I lie silently in my cell, when the lock on my cage door clicks. My stomach plummets and before I get a chance to react, my captor slips a blindfold over my eyes. I wish he weren’t so ninja quiet, I could have prepared myself. His hand grips my matted hair while he drags me out of the cell and up the stairs from the basement. I wonder where he’s taking me. Terror causes my legs to freeze in fear. Being blindfolded, it’s a challenge. Tripping about three times cause cuts and bruises to keep building on my skin. Each bump, I’m certain, brings another to the surface. A scream bursts from my throat.
“Shut up, or you’ll end up dead before I want you to be,” his deep monotonous voice growls. He doesn’t stop, just keeps powering toward something. It feels as if he could take the clump of hair right out of my scalp, the pain is so excruciating.
My feet burn with every step, the cuts he sliced into them still bleeding. I remember my parents burning the soles of my feet one afternoon because I was five minutes late home from the school bus. Still, I survived.
My knee connects with the corner of something, maybe a doorway. I bite my lip to hold back the scream threatening to erupt from my throat. The metallic taste of blood hits my tongue. I believe I know what’s coming now… I’m about to die.
The fresh night air hits my dry face, and I inhale deeply. Pine scent fills my nostrils. I’m dragged down another set of stairs, only there aren’t so many this time. My feet hit the ground, and sharp rocks cut their way into my open wounds. Dying would be better than receiving this agony all over again. The only problem is I want to live. It’s not in me to give up.
I’d hoped Roman would have found me by now.
I should have died many years ago, but I survived. I fought so hard to get away from that life. Now, I’ve been here for what seems like months, but going by my markings, it’s been about seven days.
They say your life flashes before your eyes as you’re about to leave this world, but in my case only sadness fills me. My life hasn’t been anything special. It became something great, and that’s all thanks to Suzie, and now maybe Roman. A vision of his sexy grin appears behind my closed eyes. If that’s going to be the last I see of him, at least it’s something that brings a smile to my lips. Oh, the thought of his lips on mine… My heart stutters. Too bad I’ll never feel them again.
This worthless man can hurt me all he wants, but I’ve decided to live, and live I shall.
My hair is released as I slam face first into my reality once again. No more happy thoughts. My captor’s rough hands grip the blindfold, ripping it off along with a handful of my hair. A cry of hurt I can’t hold back calls out into the black of the night, which results in a kick to my stomach.
He stands above me. His breath is heavy. The darkness surrounding us is quiet. It’s just us. Looking up from the ground, I’m met with an open field about the size of a football oval. Large trees skirt the area. If I could somehow get out there, maybe I could escape. I know I’m not strong enough to fight him—his strength is unbelievable. I’m sure he could snap my neck in an instant.
Maybe that’s how he’ll kill me… quick.
This is a beautiful final sight to see. The stars are twinkling, and the moon is casting a blue light.
My thoughts turn to Suzie once again, and it’s as though I’ve received a sucker punch to my gut with those feelings. She was, and has always been, my everything. I wish I could tell her again how much I appreciate and love her. All I can do now is hope she knows.
The captor says nothing, simply stands there, looking down at me. His gaze is scorching. “Write your goodbyes.”
Write my goodbyes?
He pulls paper and pen from his back pocket and shoves them in my direction, and my shaky hands take it.
A hard lump gets caught in my tight throat. My stomach turns at the thought that Suzie will read this. It will break her. I can’t write it to her, or even Lewis. What if I wrote it to Roman? Let him know it wasn’t his fault he didn’t find me in time? I wouldn’t want him to break himself up over this, either.
Does he care about me like that?
No. Why would he, we only just met.
Why am I planning to give in to my captor?
I may have been weak when it came to my parents and their ill treatment. I can’t be weak now. It’s not who I am anymore. I learned to grow. I learned to live, and live I will. Taking the pen, I start writing, a wry smile on my lips.
She does nothing. No tears are spilling down her cheeks like they did on others before her. They were blubbering messes. It made it so much fun watching the sheer fear in their eyes. With her, there’s nothing. Did I not cause her enough pain?
I watched her on the monitor a few nights ago, and she sobbed. Now she sits on the ground, me standing over her, and she doesn’t respond. Her hand scribbles over the paper. I’m eager to read her goodbyes.
My hand instantly goes to the gun I’ve got tucked in my jeans. The same as always. Ready to use. Although, I do enjoy telling them to run. The pop of the gun and the sensation coursing up my arm arouses me.
Sometimes, I wonder why I can’t be more like everyone else. This darkness swallowing my heart and soul is so depressing. The big question is, can I change? I’ve done this since I was inducted by my father. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. And when I didn’t do something to his standard, I’d be punished, and I’d witness the enjoyment radiating from his eyes. Those black-as-night eyes haunt me every time I close mine. Do mine torment these girls, like his did for me?
She holds up her completed letter. Taking it from her steady hands, I look at her. They shook when she took it from me—what’s changed? Has she accepted her fate?
My gaze drops to the neatly handwritten letter. No wobbly letters, and no tear stains on the paper. What is with this girl?
My mouth drops open at the sight of her words. Anger roars within me like a lion about to pounce on its prey.
Dear Captor,
You’ve stolen me.
You’ve spilled my blood.
You’ve brought me pain.
But what you’re yet to realize is… I’m a fighter.
I’ve been broken before.
I’ve at one point even lost the will to live.
So now you know… this information I gift to you.
I’m ready for you, so do your worst.
Sincerely,
Elenore
My hand lashes out, gripping her hair. “You think you’re so unbreakable. Everyone crumbles in the end. They fall to the ground unmoving, and you’ll be the same.”
Her blue eyes have a depth to them as if they could swallow me whole if I allowed them. I hold her gaze. Her stare feels as though she’s burrowing right into my soul and delving into my deep, dark secrets.
Quickly, I shove her back to the ground, hard. I hear the wind escape her, but not a yelp.
The voice in my head, his voice, screams at me to finish her. If he were here he wouldn’t hesitate, so why am I? Screw this. She’ll die just like the others.
I yell into the night, “Run!”
The volume of my voice causes her to jump away from me in fright, but she pulls herself off the ground quickly and bolts toward the trees along the border of the forest. She’s a smart one, and it’s as though the cuts on her feet and the previous beatings haven’t waivered her. She doesn’t even limp. She’s different.
I reach around behind me and grip the familiar gun in my hand. Looking down at the letter once again, a mixture of emotions sear through me, some known and others very foreign.
Shaking my head from whatever it is taken hold of me, I look up and notice she’s made it farther than any other girl has. She’s a fighter, that’s for sure. She warned me.
Lifting the gun, I run a little to get closer, stopping to take aim. My breathing is unsteady. What the hell is happening?
Another forceful shake of my head, and my finger presses on the trigger. A loud bang ripples out into the night air.
She falls.
Thank the devil. I lower the gun and wipe my brow, surprised at the sweat I find. It’s over. Another one, done.
Then why don’t I feel the joy I usually do?
That’s when I realize.
It’s because she never gave me my songs of the night.