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8. One Of Many Bad Memories

Three months ago...

Screaming. Never-ending screaming pierced the stale panic soaked air. The sound was unbearable and no matter how much I told her it wouldn't help, she continued. I couldn't think. Every one of my thoughts sliced midway by her shrill voice until she'd abruptly stopped, not out of choice, a loud thud had been the cause.

The silence would have been blissful if the ringing of death hadn't replaced the screeching. I preferred her high pitched wail.

A faint speckled light was visible through the tiny perforations of the bag over my head. My wrists were bound by thin plastic ties behind my back. My nose itched; the stench of sweat and urine was unbearable. Another aroma started to add itself to the mix, metallic and sharp.

Crammed into the back of a large vehicle, I could feel we were on the move. The cold floor, the knocking of fleshy parts against me, the ragged gasping for air. I wasn't alone although we were now one person down.

I still couldn't believe I ended up in this mess. Teddy had phoned in sick, my tasks had suddenly doubled. Rushing, that's what I'd been doing. Not paying attention.

The back door to the building was ajar and if I'd simply taken my time, thought it through, I would have realised it was a warning sign. Back doors aren't left open on purpose, not in places which are trying to hide their illegal activities.

Walking up the stairs and into the open foyer, the busy silence had hit me first. Around me, wordless people were crowded together surrounded by individuals holding guns.

My initial reaction had been Officials but the lack of green and gold outfits and no circular skin markings made me realise my mistake.

Not Officials. This was a takeover of commodities. It doesn't happen often. Yet, bad feeling, not paying what you owe or just someone on a power trip can mean an illegal thriving business one day is gone the next.

Whatever the reason, this place was being closed down and the goods seized, unofficially of course. My presence meant they acquired me too. It didn't matter I wasn't directly part of this business, places like this don't have employee records or registers.

That's the problem with illicit activities, you can't explain your way out. No amount of reasoning or pleading would have resulted in me being allowed to leave.

Sitting in the back of the vehicle, I'd waited. It was all I could do. There was a guard with us. I know because someone delivered the blow to silence the screamer. There could be more than one. I'd sat still. My body ached, blood and adrenaline pulsated through my vessels; making me alert and aware of every sound.

The vehicle stopped, voices murmured to each other. I need a piss, a smoke, fresh air. It stinks in here. We'll stand guard outside.

The doors had slammed behind us and I shuffled onto my back, slowly hooked my bound wrists under my feet whilst bashing the people surrounding me. I was lucky they hadn't secured my ankles.

What are you doing? A throaty voice had whispered. Escaping, we need to get out of here. I'd urged. You're mad, no way someone had replied. I pulled the bag off my head, breathing deeply. A thick putrid smell hung in the air, I wanted to wretch. A dim bulb lit the space, bodies crammed in like cattle to the slaughter.

Others who wanted to be freed called out in a whisper. The rest sat silently, too scared to come or maybe they had nowhere to go or quite possibly an entirely different reason, one I did not understand, would not comprehend until I'd experienced their life.

Listening at the doors, we waited with bated breath. The guards talked on the other side. I don't remember the words, just the pungent smell around me. All our wrists were still bound but we managed to unlock the doors and swing them open.

I ran away from the vehicle, the blur of figures, the shots and the screaming. I didn't look back or stop or help. I ran as fast as my aching legs would go.

Of all the events my memory could have forgotten from that experience, it chose to block the three days it took to arrive back home. Occasionally, I remember a snippet. A smell or an object causes a flash of déjà vu; a brief return to those three lost days so quick it stabs me like a knife to the gut before it vanishes again.

I'll never know how many of us escaped that vehicle. I'll never know their names or who they were. The only thing I am certain of is the stragglers, the slower scared ones who hid at the back of the crowd are the reason I am alive.

Their fear and hesitation blocked me from the cascade of bullets fired. Their deaths meant my survival. My encouragement to escape killed them and now their blood soaks my hands but then that is nothing new. My hands were already saturated.

On my return, Teddy didn't question my story of visiting my fiancé. He didn't pry when I shut myself away for a few days refusing to move and talk. He brought me food, sat with me, took on all the deliveries and continued as though everything was normal.

A few days later we had our first awkward kiss. A kiss I had initiated because I wanted to be in control. I wanted to decide what happens in my life for once.

Author's note

Hopefully, it's clear that this is a flashback to a previous time she was captured. Let me know if not and I'll try change it up xx