Alphabet Soup

Traumatized

Traumatized

        Rebecca trembled as she hid in her home. All of the doors and windows were firmly locked, preventing anyone from entering the house easily. That didn’t stop the horrid sounds of the battle raging outside from pummeling Rebecca’s ears. Screams and gunshots seemed to fill every corner with a symphony of pain and misery. They chased away any illusion of safety the eight year old might have had, leaving behind dread in its place.

        The violence had started shortly before sunrise that morning. The entire city had been thick with tension for many weeks before then, as if everyone had been holding their breath in anticipation of the day when the populace would finally lash out at the city’s largely corrupt government. Rebecca was too young to understand such issues very well; all she knew was that her family often showered her with new toys and dresses whenever the taxes were increased.

        What she did understand was that the other children at school didn’t seem to like her. Rebecca always tried to make friends, often offering to share her toys with her classmates. She was always turned down. Even bringing candy for the other kids never worked. They would just frown at her and say that she was just showing off because of how wealthy her parents were. As harsh as their comments about both her and her parents could be at times, Rebecca never held it against the other students.

        It was hard to be upset with people who always looked so worn out. Very few of the other children owned clothes that weren’t dirty or torn and even they usually got stuck with hand-me-downs. Rebecca’s classmates were usually stuck trying to force down the unappetizing mush the school served for lunch every day. Between having no alternative to what Rebecca firmly believed should only be fed to criminals as a form of punishment and struggling to make their tattered notebooks and clothes last as long as possible, the other children had plenty of reasons to be grumpy around the much more privileged girl.

        Raising the taxes to previously unheard of levels had been the government’s final mistake. That single action was like a lit match thrown into a keg of gunpowder: everything exploded because of it. Riots erupted throughout the town less than a day after the tax increase was announced. If the city’s children disliked Rebecca and her family, their parents despised them. Luckily for Rebecca, her parents had willingly deserted the house after making sure their daughter was secured inside.

        Unbeknownst to Rebecca, neither of her parents would be returning home again. Mr. and Mrs. Hutchinson had only managed to hug only child goodbye and to remind her to stay safe before being swallowed up by the pandemonium outside less than an hour after they had locked the front door behind them. They had known without a single shadow of a doubt that the furious mob of citizens would not hesitate to kill and possibly torture Rebecca if any of the adults found her. It was best to lure the enraged crowd as far away from their house as they could so that their daughter would at least have a chance to survive.

        Someone tried to open the front door, rattling the knob for a moment. Rebecca fled to the other end of the house as quickly as she could. She was more than ready to dash out into the sea of screaming outside if it became necessary. Loud booms echoed throughout the house as a fist pounded mercilessly on the oaken door. Rebecca fumbled with the set of keys her parents had given her. They fell out of her sweaty grasp and onto the floor with a chorus of clinking. Rebecca hastily picked her only change at safety back up and began testing each key on the lock.

        The front door’s hinges screamed in protest as something slammed against it. Finally, the person managed to break down the door with a well placed kick. A falsely sweet voice called out, sending icy waves of fear shooting up Rebecca’s spine. “Come on out, sweetie. I’d love to help you reunite with your parents.” Rebecca let out a small sob as she frantically tried out each individual key. The man’s heavy footsteps thudded throughout the house. The relatively quiet noise terrified Rebecca even more than the deafening gunshots outside.

        At last, one of the keys fit snuggly into the lock. Rebecca heard a yelp of triumph as the door unlocked with a thunk. She caught a glimpse of a haggard man wearing a filthy brown coat with long tears in the fabric as she risked a glance over her shoulder. A gunshot sounded behind her like an overly loud clap of thunder. Rebecca’s ears rang so much after that single close range shot that she couldn’t hear a thing as she raced away from the only home she had ever known. Bullets tore through the air around her until Rebecca felt like she was surrounded by a colony of angry black bees.

        Smoke billowed darkly against the light blue sky, obscuring a few puffy clouds as they floated lazily overhead. Rebecca sprinted through the bloodthirsty crowd of people around her. Waves of people crashed into her from all sides, shoving her until she was covered in bruises. Gunshots cracked through the mass of frantic people. Rebecca saw many strangers and some of her parents’ friends fall as bullets tore through their flesh as if it were made of tissue paper. Rebecca herself felt a burning hot bit of metal blaze its way through her thigh.

        Screaming in pain, Rebecca was only aware of her desperate need to escape. The strange, animalistic noise ripping its way out of her throat was little more than a tingling sensation to her. She barreled through the violent swarm as forcefully as her injured leg, elbowing anyone who got in her way against other members of the mob. She didn’t stop her flight from the city until she was far beyond its borders. Completely drained both physically and emotionally, Rebecca curled up into a ball and sobbed loudly despite her raw throat. Her crying echoed in her slowly recovering ears until her fatigue forced her to sleep.