Behind The Glass Eye

Chapter Three

Something is always better than nothing. Emptiness, holes, and blankness invaded my brain. Memories are priceless...they make me who I am. Losing a memory is like losing part of myself. How do I know what was lost if I was never whole?

I was jolted back to the present when I felt my bare feet connect with the cold concrete of my rented warehouse. The throbbing in my ankle almost rendered one of my legs useless. The harsh wind finally stopped tossing my short black hair and I was greeted with a musty scent as I slipped through the rusty door that led inside.

I adjusted my carpet-wrapped burden on my shoulder to a more comfortable position.

Since darkness shrouded my eyes, with memorized motions, I extended my left hand out and felt along the dirty wall until my fingers recognized the protrusions from the wall as light switches. I flipped the first three I could reach upwards and watched as they illuminated the warehouse.

Emptiness stretched out in front of me. I was home. It was what I considered home, but how was I to know the difference between a house and a home? Two words that are so similar, but yet so different. The meaning and emotion behind the words was foreign to me. I had gone from house to house, but I never found a home. I didn't have a true family, a home, and I certainly never obtained peace.

I let a deep sigh escape my mouth as I plodded across the barren expanse of the warehouse. As I reached the far corner, where a small yellow chair was located, I pulled my hostage off of my shoulder and placed her on the floor. I slowly knelt down and gripped the carpet's edge in my fingers to unroll her. In a quick motion, I managed to reveal the tiny girl from her cover.

Her hair was matted to her forehead and her pink clothes were rumpled. I lifted her small body into the chair to my left and let her head lull to the side. She looked utterly pathetic.

With one last glance down at the unconscious girl, I popped myself to my feet. My strides were quick as I walked over to my personal room. I pushed through the red door and entered the tiny space.

My eyes glanced over the unmade bed, hideous pottery lamp, and the dying fern plant, before landing on the things I originally intended to find. A video camera and tripod rested next to a pile of rope and a black mask.

In quick steps, I clutched the items to my chest and returned to where I had left the girl. I dumped everything to the floor except for the camera which I placed on the tripod a few feet away from the girl's position.

I ran my hand over the sleek silver camera and looked for the record button. My fingers eventually found the little red button and I pressed it down forcefully. It let out a shrill beep to announce that it had started filming.

I backed away from the camera and knelt down to collect the rope and mask that I had dropped on the floor. My hands guided the black fabric over my head where it fit tightly. It smelled of sweat and I desperately wanted to peel it from my face. I parted my lips to breathe without encountering the scent of the mask.

While reducing the weight I put on my left foot, I strode over to the girl and in front of the camera. With quick motions, I untied the rope and wound it around the torso of the child which attached her to the chair securely. I bound her delicate wrists together as well before tossing the rope behind me.

I pivoted on my feet to face the camera and knelt down next to the sleeping girl. Even though I knew that it was not visible, I smiled darkly through the thick fabric covering my face.

I turned back toward the girl, but ensured that I was not blocking the camera's vision. I raised my hand and slapped the child's face harshly, causing her head to slam into the other side of the chair. The red imprint of my fingers was clearly visible on her pale face.

The pitiful sound of a wounded cat emitted from her parched lips. A little tear streaked down her cheek and her eyes opened slowly. Her pupils dilated in fear when she saw me.

I said quietly, "Hello, Dear, remember me?"

A couple more tears slid down her reddening cheeks and her body started trembling. Her squeaky voice was shaking in fear as she said, "What do you want? Please don't hurt me; my parents will pay you."

I glanced back at the little camera while saying, "I have no interest in money, Sweety. Money is replaceable...love isn't. Your precious parents took someone very dear to me and they will pay in the worst way possible."

Her small green eyes blurred with tears as she responded, "Please no."

My lips quirked up in a smile. I placed my hand on her plump red cheek and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear while I retorted, "People aren't compassionate or caring, Darling. Humanity is cruel and abusive. There are no fairy tales or happy endings. I used to be one of those delusional people who believed they could change the world. I realized that happiness is a lie that is spread around like an infectious disease that has corrupted the earth."

She flinched away from my touch and her face pulled into a disgusted grimace. Her voice shook when she eventually responded, "You could be rich. My parents will pay you. Please."

I let a sinister laugh echo through the expansive warehouse. I shook my head slightly before responding, "No sum of money can appease me." I inhaled a deep breath before removing my hands from the child's cheeks and clutching the black cover that disguised my face. I slowly lifted it revealing my pale complexion, raven black hair, and stormy eyes.

Even with my injured ankle, I stood gracefully and I sauntered toward the recording camera until I was close enough for anyone to see the hatred that burned in my eyes. My voice was cold and full of anger as I said, "You took someone I love...now it is my turn to return the favor. Don't play a game you can't win."

I moved behind the camera and pulled the handgun out of the holster that still rested on my hip from the uniform I had been wearing. The metal felt cold in my hand as I adjusted my aim to the child's forehead.

With the pull of a trigger, the revenge for my brother's death would be fulfilled.

The Kimins would watch the video silently as they saw that it was I, their adopted daughter, who slaughtered their own child. Family meant everything...and they would never be, and never were, part of mine. Blood runs deeper than loyalty.

They would pay the price for taking the only person in the world who could ever fill me with the fake feeling of happiness. They robbed me of love and now I would do the same.

Then I would run...I always run.

My hands shook as I slowly closed my finger around the trigger.