Two more days have passed since we’ve been in this dungeon-like room. She hasn’t become conscious still, and I am worried. Our captors have come and gone once each day, once cutting deep my unhurt palm, and the other day just making us plead stridently on the phone to someone at the other end. I think it was our parents. Today morning however, they unshackled us, knowing we’re too spent to try and escape.
She stirs slowly with as the morning’s first light comes through the window. I cannot see her face, but her unwary eyes are conscious of danger; fearful. I see them through the Jack-o-lantern’s eyes, and tears sliding down her cheeks. She tries to stand up, but she’s weak and falls to the floor in a heap. I slide off the bed and crawl to her side. I push the pumpkin shell off her head, and she gasps urgently for more air. The blood around her lips has dried, and there is some dappled on her wrists too, possibly from the tight handcuffs. Her pleated skirt is torn in some places. Unable to talk, I just hold her close and lean back on to the side of the bed, knowing it is not over, but relieved to see she’s not lost to me.
We get up together, gingerly, and go to the window. There is a baseball pitch on the other side of the compound; near the church. There is a game on, Little League I think. The baseball suddenly flies toward us and lands on the dried grass in the garden. We hear shouts of delirium; the game seems to be over. We turn around to drudge back to the bed, but a dull thud greets our ears. We look back to see Natalie, my neighbor’s daughter in the garden, retrieving the ball. She’s in good spirits, having won the game I suppose. She throws the ball into the air, and swishes the air with her bat. She looks up, and sees us at the window; then starts to run off.
We watch as seconds later, a masked man runs out the door and catches her. As he drags her back into the house, she emits a piercing scream. Our momentarily reignited hopes are once again, snuffed.
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| The Sunday Whirl #28 |
Vinay Leo R.
Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.
How many more parts? I am so curious you know. Every part I read makes me want to read more. Do I need to say more?
How many more parts? I am so curious you know. Every part I read makes me want to read more. Do I need to say more?
damn it man, again continued:(Eagerly waiting:)
damn it man, again continued:(Eagerly waiting:)
Well that is spooky and a bit more nail-biting – hair-pulling genre! Keep writing.. Ur posts are becoming more like those weekly serials, that we used to wait and watch every week.. 🙂
Well that is spooky and a bit more nail-biting – hair-pulling genre! Keep writing.. Ur posts are becoming more like those weekly serials, that we used to wait and watch every week.. 🙂
nail-biting dude.. Love it..Someone is Special
nail-biting dude.. Love it..Someone is Special
It truly has become a wait for more parts. As it gets more interesting and scary.
It truly has become a wait for more parts. As it gets more interesting and scary.
How clever of you to weave the words into such a cohesive story. Tell us more.
How clever of you to weave the words into such a cohesive story. Tell us more.
I'm still loving it, Leo. I'm hoping for escape. 🙂
I'm still loving it, Leo. I'm hoping for escape. 🙂
You have us hooked, Leo. I hope you keep playing with us.
You have us hooked, Leo. I hope you keep playing with us.
I love a good mystery, Leo! You have wordled your story well!
I love a good mystery, Leo! You have wordled your story well!