The Tears I Shed For Him...

Chapter 22~ Torture

"Crying out in pain but no one knows how to find you. You're lost in darkness. Crying out in vain, but no one knows how to reach you. You're lost in darkness again. She cries for help with a gun to her cheek, but no one comes, nobody listens. Her blood runs red all through the street."   

Chapter 22~ Torture

            It took hours to get to the destination they had in mind. Long, arduous hours that involved my restrained body rolling around ceaselessly in a smoky trunk; by the time we arrived, I had accomplished to attain three new bruises due to the many tools wedged in the tight space with me. They didn’t waste time afterwards; yanking me out of the trunk and ushering me roughly toward some unknown route, I cried a little but mostly yelped every time I walked on my injured leg. The bullet wound was too much for me to handle; I was losing too much blood. Lightheaded; at any moment I knew I might collapse—I couldn’t exactly see either since I was blindfolded, and had a musky smelling sack over my head—as a result I ended up tripping a handful of times, it was enough to aggravate the guys to the point that one of them hauled me over his shoulder and carried me the rest of the way there. Inside, a variety of smells saluted me with putrid force. I wrinkled my nose as my carrier set me down roughly on what felt like a rickety bed. The springs within the thin cushion cried out in protest against my weight, as my leg tensed painstakingly; the air in the room was stale and cold, biting into me as if wanting to eat me whole.

            A pair of new hands got hold of me, nimble yet ginger, smoothing themselves over my exposed arms then continuing down to the hem of my shirt. There was the sound of fabric shredding, along with a sudden cool chill that penetrated into my torso. He was stripping my clothes! Instinctively I squirmed away, catching him off guard and pulling free. I rolled off the mattress and onto the hard ground with a muted oomph! Blinded from the world around me, I didn’t get very far before the same pair of hands got hold of my shoulders, yanking me off the ground and back onto the dusty mattress. He removed the sack over my head and slapped me, hard, across the face. I was stunned mostly, but as the stinging sensation started to get to me, I whimpered and cried. By now, I was consumed by consternation over what was to come next; I knew I was in no condition to fight—not that I could even throw a proper punch in the first place.

            Even though I was gagged, I still made feeble attempts to get words around and out, I was this desperate. “Please!” I implored, it sounded more like ‘fleesh’ but I’m sure he understood nonetheless, “let me go. Please.”

            He was in the middle of removing my underwear when he paused. My hope skyrocketed for a mere second in thought that he might actually consider my proposal, but I was wrong. What came next was far worst; he got hold of my bounded wrists and poured something over my biceps. I’m not sure if I imagined it or not, but I swear I heard as my skin sizzled away on contact with this toxic fluid. I let out a wail of agony—which again was muted by the gag—as the liquid doused around my bare skin, dripping down onto my legs. Some of it even got into the bullet injury at my lower thigh which only caused more afflictions.

            “Shut up.” He growled, letting go of me, “or next time, I’mah pour acid all ova’ that pretty lil’ face of yours.”

            He went back to work soon after, leaving me to my sniveling as he removed the last scraps of clothing I had left. He didn’t really go into the whole groping spree as the others had, just unbound my wrists only to bind them again to the headboard; the material was cool, leaden: handcuffs. The ropes that had once been on my wrists, he took down to my ankles. He left after that, without another word…not even a blanket. I began to shiver and struggled against my restraints, this wretched situation was again aggravated by the galling of the cuffs against the burns on my wrists. Wincing, I continued to kick out while crying. I had to get out, my brother needed me! I couldn’t leave him. What is he was injured? Or worst…no, I shook my head vigorously to dissolve such an atrocious thought. Hopefully, by now my parents were home and helped aid Bryan, I’m sure he was fine now. I repeated those last four words over and over in my head, a silent prayer as well as a reassurance that I needed, yet my body denied to believe my futile lies and I found myself sobbing for my beloved brother. My breathing came out in galvanized pants, and involuntary sobs shook in my chest. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that my heartbeats were being counted as of now. I was relying on my auditory senses to pick up any peculiar movements.