Taken

Chapter - 6

Amyra got out of the bathroom, feeling more relaxed and clean than before. Although the headache was still just as bad, now she felt like she could deal with it. The fruity smell of shampoo and shower gel was refreshing and soothing and she felt better prepared for the day ahead. She turned on the hairdryer and started drying her hair. The heated air from the dryer caressed her skin softly behind her ears and neck, comforting her with its warmth.

The comfort was short-lived though, as her mind soon started wandering again, running back and forth between the recent events. The frustration that she felt was driving her nuts. She turned the dryer off and shook her head slightly, willing herself to get out of her thoughts and be unassuming of anything, though it was difficult to be that way in a situation like this. She held her hair up in both hands in a kind of messy ponytail before releasing it along with a deep breath and then walked over to her closet. She tried not to think about anything; thinking was doing her no good at all except intensifying her headache. She took out the hanger which had her plain blue T-shirt and jeans pair right from the front section of the closet.

It was then that she noticed a white plastic bag which was partially hidden in the organised cluster of her closet. She frowned, what's that? Without giving it much thought, she threw the clothes on the bed and pulled the plastic bag out. It wasn't too heavy and it had a brown cuboidal cardboard box inside it. She ran her fingertips over the soft, plain texture of the box. She tried to remember when exactly had she bought something like this - her closet was filled with trashes she usually bought on the spur of a moment if she liked it - but she couldn't remember anything about this one. And why was it kept in the clothes apartment? It wasn't here last night when she was getting ready for the night, was it? A troubling thought came in her mind and settled in her stomach as she gulped, making her uncomfortable and apprehensive.

Has someone kept it here? Maybe Riya. She scoffed at the idea. Who was she kidding, by the way? It didn't take a genius to guess where it could come from - not after all these events, anyway. What disturbed her the most was the possibility, or maybe fact, that someone might have been here. In her house, in her room - without her knowledge and a single trace of presence. How can anyone get inside without breaking the lock? Key. She blanched at the thought of someone having the keys of her house. She looked down at the box in her hands again.

She let the plastic fall to the ground and opened the lid of the cardboard box and for several blinding moments her world stopped, her heart skipped several beats and her head felt too light to hold a coherent thought. The box had a small doll and some white orchids in it. Amyra was frozen in her place - both physically and mentally - momentarily thrown back into a swirl of old dreadful memories and total confusion. Several images and scenarios unfolded themselves in her head, accompanied by the desperate screams of agony and pain. She touched the doll and orchids that were kept on the top of it with trembling hands. She quickly sat down on the bed, not trusting her legs to hold her up anymore. Complete confusion took over her entire being and rattled her senses.

The doll... Her eyes were focused on them. It felt as if all her old nightmares were coming alive in front of her eyes...

"Don't you think you are too old to play with dolls?" The question came in a smooth voice, which was poised and peaceful. There was a stillness in both the voice and the eyes of the person who had questioned the odd habit of a 16- years old girl who loved to get new dolls whenever she could.

"I don't play with them. I collect them." Amyra had replied while looking at the face of the man. His eyes stood out, no, nothing special in them physically. Those were the light brown eyes, too common to stand out for their colour. What made them stand out was the way he looked. And again, it wasn't dirty, wasn't provoking or filthy, or even intimidating- not for her. Those eyes were both intrusive and understanding and no matter what the world may say, being understood was both boon and bane. Amyra always craved to be understood and she was always scared that someday, someone would understand her...

She snapped out of the memory, suddenly too scared to think more of it. It wasn't like she has not once thought of those days in all these years.

Sometimes memories came back without reason or warning, without any external trigger that she could blame on. And in those days she would brood, overthink, go over things again and again. She used to stay up several nights in a row to prepare herself, to remind herself that nothing like that would ever happen again. And that used to be enough to bring herself out of it.

But today, she couldn't convince herself. It seemed like she was facing that very nightmare again without any way out this time. All her fears were coming true. She looked down at the doll and then at the bunch of white orchids and a thought flashed through her mind- clear, strong and self-evident. Someone knows.

And this thought was not a question, not a doubt or a result of her overthinking mind. This was a fact. And this doll was proof. Her world tilted and she found herself drowned and resuscitated from the sea of past and now her self-preservation instincts were kicking in. She looked down at the toy again and panic filled her.

It didn't look like the same exact dolls that she used to collect, but still very similar to them. It was so long ago. How was this even happening? He's dead. And it's been so long. Who would want to open the pages of that incident after such a long time? And WHY? She shook her head vehemently. No no no no no! Not making sense, not making sense.

And then her eyes were scrunched in confusion as she looked at the half-dried white orchids. But how...... How are these here!? How can these flowers be here? With this doll! The confusion and loose ends were perhaps going to give her a haemorrhage! She breathed in deeply to calm herself down, and just like always, this did not help. She waited for the initial shock to pass, like always, and then she can sit down and think through this slowly. But nothing was helping at all.

There was a sound coming from somewhere, she realised in the back of her mind, but the major part of her brain was just flummoxed and punch-drunk. These orchids...

She didn't even realise for a few seconds where that sound came from; all she could hear was the heavy sound of her own breathing as she tried to process everything. Then the doorbell rang again and her head automatically shot towards the direction of the main door. She stared towards the direction of the sound for a few seconds before regaining her composure and got up slowly. She took small steps towards the door, buying herself a little time to centralise her thoughts.