The Trapped

53

53

- B L A I R E -

11.20.16 // 3:37 p.m.

WE ARE IN A dimly lit kitchen. The brown wallpaper is peeling away, the light at the top swings back and forth, and I am sitting in a hard wooden chair. Old pots are scattered around the area, the table is sticky against my hands, and the room smells horrid.

T hums to himself lightly as he stirs some kind of soup in a pot. Across from me are three young kids, all around the ages ten to thirteen. The little boy with dark hair absently plays with his fingers under the table as he looks up at me through long lashes. He smiles sweetly and it makes me want to cry.

Then, there is a girl with dusty, blonde hair. She has soft brown eyes that are hidden behind the bangs that fall from her forehead. She bites her lip nervously as she stares at T's back.

But, the oldest girl really catches my eye. Her hair is almost as dark as the ocean at night time. She shakes violently in her chair while continuously banging her head on the table. I reach out to touch her, but the little boy grabs my hand and shakes his head. My eyes soften and my heart shatters.

I have to get them out of here.

Making sure T isn't looking, I drag my eyes across the room, looking for anything I could hit him over the head with. I spot a broom in the far back corner, next to a dusty water pale. I stand up and push my chair back as quietly as possible.

The boy's eyes widen and he shakes his head, but all I do is smile at him and turn to walk. My footfalls are silent as I pad across the room to grab the broom. When I turn back around, T is staring at me with narrowed eyes. His hands are behind his back and his head is cocked to the side. I feel like a deer caught in headlights as I freeze in my tracks.

"Children, please go to your room," he says and they all scramble to the door. "Mommy has been a very bad girl." He stalks toward me and I back up until I am flushed against the wall. He grabs the broom from my hand and twirls it around.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, closing my eyes. Sweat is forming on my forehead and my heart is thumping rapidly in my chest.

"Sorry doesn't always cut it, Rose," he murmurs dryly. "Were you planning to do this to me?" T ask as he raises the broom and swings it. I duck just in time and the broom smacks against the wall, creating a hole in the thin sheet rock. T's eyes harden as he looks at me. "This was suppose to be our first family meal! Why do you ruin everything?"

"Stop!" I say as he saunters toward me once again. Just then, the door to the kitchen opens and Joshua steps in.

Joshua?

His hair is disheveled, a dark mop tangled on top of his head. His nose is purple and still bleeding.

"Look who it is," T growls at Joshua who takes a step back on instinct. "Why are you here?"

What is going on?

"I got your call. I came as soon as possible, is there something you needed?" Joshua ask, his eyes flickering to mine for a beat before returning to T's hard glare.

"Right! I tracked your phone earlier, I haven't heard from you in awhile and it said you were at the police station. Care to explain?" T ask, crossing his thin arms over his chest. Joshua gulps, clearly intimated and nervous.

"I-I just-" T cuts him off.

"Don't lie to me, Mr.Feldman. The punishment is even worse when you lie." Joshua drops his head and takes a deep breath.

"Well, I was originally there to find out more about Sarah Longthorn's suicide. But then, I ran into the Canton boy," he says and both heads snap to me.

"What did you do to him?" I ask, anger boiling up inside of me. There is an unfamiliar pull in my chest at the thought of Sutter.

      "It's what he did to me," Joshua says, pointing to his nose. I raise my eyebrows in shock and T's face mirrors my expression. "Surprising, I know."

      "The boy's got a hand, I see," T mutters. "What did you tell him?" Joshua scratches the back of his red neck.

     "I'm so sorry, T," Joshua says. T laughs and reaches into the waistband of his pants. He pulls out a small, hand-held gun and places it on Joshua's chest.

     "Tell me what happened!" T growls.

     "I told him you took Blaire. But, I didn't tell him where you lived or anything. I just-" Joshua's voice is cut off by the loud gun shot echoing throughout the room. Joshua falls and lands on the concrete floor with a thud. I scream as tears fall from my eyes.

      "You," T says, pointing to me. "Clean this up." He steps over Joshua's body, as if he is a piece of trash instead of a human, and walks out of the door.

Just like that.

I scurry over to Joshua's body and drop down to my knees. I grab his hand and his eyes flutter open slightly. Blood is pooling all around him and the bullet wound in his chest is small.

     "I told Sutter what I could. He will find you Blaire, I know it. Don't give up," Joshua whispers and my tears land on his blue shirt.

      "Don't die. Keep your eyes open, Joshua. Stay still, I will go get tissues." I go to stand, but Joshua's grip tightens on my hand.

      "Just stop, Blaire. At least I will die knowing I tried to help. It's okay, it will all be okay," he whispers before his breathing falters and his hand goes limp in mine.

My whole body shakes and I bite my lip to keep from crying as I close Joshua's eyelids. I place his hands on his chest and push his hair away from his sweaty forehead. He wasn't such a bad person, after all.

Rest In Peace, Joshua. Thank you.

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-jayymckenziee