The Cure

Chapter 2

" My heart begins to pound as I groggily turn to face the intruder with my weapon. To my surprise I realize that I’m staring into a full-length mirror. What’s even more peculiar is that the girl staring back at me is the same one I saw in the pictures, only ten years older…"

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Chapter 2 

I reach out to touch the reflection before me. My hand misses the mirror by half an inch and I stumble forward, hitting the glass and distorting the image. Even as the vibrations calm down, I notice that my reflection is still unclear. I squint my eyes, attempting to focus on a point of my face in the reflective surface. But the more I try to focus, the blurrier it gets. My stomach churns as the nausea returns. My knees buckle as I feel myself passing out, dark spots clouding my vision. I try my best to crawl back into the kitchen. Water, I need water. I open the fridge again, using all of my strength to pull myself up and open a second water bottle. I gulp it down quickly and the haze in my mind clears momentarily.

I try to remember where I am… who I am. My palms start to sweat and my chest tightens. Every time I try to reach into my mind for some clues, I begin to panic at the emptiness I find. All I know it that my name is Arabella… and that I am in my home. But I don’t know where anyone is and why I was in that hidden hole in the wall. The nausea and fog that threatens to take over me tells me I’m not well. Something is very, very wrong. I sit down on the floor, leaning my head against the cupboards. The coolness of the wood sooths my overheating neck. I run my hands through my hair, trying to clear my head.

The sound of my breath calms my heart rate and I begin to weigh my options.

You can stay here and wait for someone to find you? I begin but the deserted home feels dangerous and hostile. I shake my head. I need to be proactive, get out and look for help. For answers. I decide, taking another sip of water. Forcing a deep breath I pull myself up off of the floor and take a look around the room.

 The nausea has subsided and I begin to distinguish items that might be helpful to me. My vision narrows towards a backpack by the door; I pick it up, open its largest pocket and shake it out. A couple of cents fall from it, along with a granola bar. Collecting the change and the food, I continue around the kitchen. I decide to take a small knife and put it in my belt, sheathing the larger one in a washcloth and placing it carefully in the bag. Then I head to the fridge and take the remaining water bottles and throw them in as well. These items make the school bag significantly heavier and I worry I might not be able to carry it in my weakened state. I rummage through the cupboards, finding some aspirin, dehydrated apple chips and a few more granola bars, which I save for later. The emptiness of the kitchen only confirms my worries about the danger I’m in. Clearly, no one has lived here for a while… I remember the pictures on the fridge and decide to take a few, just in case. There, I think to myself. All prepped.

Suddenly, I hear steps coming from the outside of the home and muffled voices shouting. My heart begins to beat faster. The noises are coming closer and fast. I hear them at the doorstep,

“In here! I saw something moving in here!”

“Move it!”

 Their tones are menacing, brief, and military. I know that I am not safe. I get on my hands and knees, entering the dark crawl space. My hands fumble with the backpack as I stuff it under the covers. I hear them knock the door down. I grab the small knife from my belt with one hand and close the latch with the other.

I can hear them storming into the home, but their words are muffled again. My heart it beating so loudly, I fear they’ll hear it through the thin wall. My ears are filled with noises of breaking glass, overturning tables and yelling. I breathe deeply, suppressing the sobs caught in my throat. What is happening? Why are they doing this? I lay my head against the floor and close my eyes, willing them to leave. I clutch my knife so tightly my knuckles begin to hurt. After what seems like hours, the noise begins to subside. Until I hear their footsteps right outside my hiding space. I catch my breath, holding it as I listen to their conversation.

“Dammit. I must be losing it” I hear him bang his fist on the wall and I almost yelp from the sudden noise. I close my eyes tightly, praying that he didn’t notice the hollowness of the sound. 

“It’s all right, we’ve been doing this for a week. My mind’s playing tricks on me too” another replies. 

“Lets get out of here, the chief will be wanting us back to file the report” The first one groans and I hear their steps move further away.

I let out the breath I’ve been holding in. As I hear them leaving, my mind begins to fog up again, the adrenaline leaving my system. I can still feel the knife shaking in my hands as they tremble, when, my eye lids droop and I let myself fall into another deep sleep.