It was weird for me when I had that dream....But I think that it's so totally awesome that I should write it down.
The ending was kind of cliff hanging...if I want to continue it i might..but Checkmate is my major project at the moment so...maybe later?
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I woke up in the dark room.
It was at night. Although that assumption may not be correct. Since the window was blinded by some black heavy curtains.
After a minute of blanking out in space to make my eyes get used to the darkness surrounding me, I realized that I was not in an empty factory like I expected to be, like in a dramatic action movie, with the heroine exhausted and filthy and waiting for some prince on a white horse to save her.
Ha. Please.
The room I was in was small. It could be described as a little wooden hut that people live in on a farm or a prarie.
This hut had a refreshing smell that people would not be able to find in cities. It was certainly pleasing my lungs. They had too much toxic gas in here.
It was obvious that this hut had a residence.
A bookshelf was visible in front of me, with its back pressing against the wall on my right side. Then there was a dining table in the middle of the room, still wooden and small. I guessed that it was only capable of holding two people,otherwise there would be too little space. Under the table was a thick carpet, but the color could not be identified by me because the absorbant color of black sucked the glory of all the other colors. However from the fuzzy fiber, I could tell that it was made of some type of fur. It seemed like there was more things ahead of me, though it was too dark for me to see.
My head was drowsy as if someone had dosed me with a million liters of mercury. Putting that problem aside, I had the urge to screech in the highest pitch possible in order to obtain some kind of assisstance from any random people. Random people who were not reluctant or dispicable to help me. Random people who were genuine enough to not kidnap me for their personal gain.
Unlike the ones who brought me here. Desparate to get fame and fortune by threatening my parents.
I did not meddle or disrupt anybody's private life. Why do they have the right to interrupt mine?
More importantly, how could I LET them interfere with my life?
Right now, I was as ashamed as a criminal in prison, who caught his entire life flashing by him but not capturing a single sight of the colorful world.
My parents raised me and tucked me to bed everyday. I was determined to make them happy.
There was no way that I was going to be stuck in here. I could not waste my life here. I had to make my parents happy.
Hearing the creaking of the door on my left, I temporarily put a pause in my tension and pretended I was still unconscious.
Before closing my eyes, I saw sparkling stars on the nightly sky when the door opened.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to keep her here?" One voice said. It resonated in the room like thunder. I recognized the voice. It was one of my kidnappers. The one with a brunette buzz cut, wearing a leather jacket and a skull belt. He was very tall and had a crooked smile on his face when he approached me. "I mean, there is a small town down the hill. It's not even that far away. Look, it's not even half an hour for us to go to the local store and buy some food. And I swear, we picked the food for 20 minutes."
"Do you even know the name of this town?" Another voice complained. This one had a higher pitch. I remembered it as well. The hooked nose person. He shaved his head so his nose stood out for me even more. His eyes were pointing outwards. He was the type that always looks menacing without even trying to be. "Pfft i bet even the police is lame here. Besides, this house is completely empty. Nobody is gonna know. I think the owner doesn't have a habit of locking the doors though, this place looks new." From that cynical statement I amended the frightening image of the man.
"What if the owner comes back then?"
"Relax!! I have a car hidden somewhere near here. If anything happens we just cut leave the girl and go. The dad is gonna hand us the cash immediately anyways. His precious daughter just turned twenty-one and she has a boyfriend. And before he comes with the money. You and I can enjoy some ecstacy with the beautiful daughter over here huh?"
And other one joined in the diabolical laughter to make a harmony.
I suddenly had a rush of adradeline due to the impulse to beat these two people to death. Nonetheless my rational thoughts restrained that urge. There was no possible chance that I would win against two muscular, strong men. Retaliating would be a catalist to imminent danger.
My eyelids wanted to open and see. But I forced them down.
Something vibrated against the wooden floors. It sounded like farts.
"Hello..?" The man with the huge nose picked it up casually and spoke. Although the indifference vanished the next second along with my ration:" What ?! What do you mean the parents are dead?!?!"
Then clamors of the two people's voices exploded in the room, yells of rage. Nevertheless I could not hear what they were saying anymore. They did not matter to me more than that simple sentence.
PARENTS. ARE. DEAD.
DEAD.
D-E-A-D.
OUT OF LIFE. MOTIONLESS. COLD. DARK.
Words blinked through my inner retina.
I felt like the world around me swiftly shattered into pieces, leaving into the void without a rope attempting to save me. I kept falling and falling and falling. But there was no suspensed heart.
No more warmth, no more of those smiles.
The next moment, tears began to flood out of my eyes. It took all my stength to gulp the pathetic weeps and cries down my throat. I remained motionless. I continued to let my tsunamis of emtion crash on the shores of my heart and brain.
While I was concentrating on calming myself down, I did not realize when the phone call ended and the noises subsided. I breathed in with my nose and slowly led out the air i took in order to make it unnoticable. My heart beat was pummeling against my bones so fiercely that they could practically crack.
And I would not feel it.
"......What are we gonna do? We have no money, a girl and in the middle of an unknown town." The buzz cut guy whispered absent-mindedly.
"Do you think.....we can sell her as a sex toy?" Said the other man. "I mean, she is pretty and no scars anywhere..I bet she can somewhat sell her for a fair price."
They were still thinking of a way to get money.
Nausea nearly came out.
"Okay. I don't care what happens to her. But first I think we need to get some fuel for the car. It's gonna be a long drive."
"Good thinking. There's a gas station not that far away from the driveway. Let's go there and buy some and then get her."
There was a sound of feet tapping on the ground. They were getting up.
The taste of hatred was in my tongue, I did not know how I did it, but it managed to not pounce on the men and scratch their eyes out.
Before they left, one of the men lifted my chin to give me some more of the medicine that doses people. They put it in a cup of water, letting it flush down to my stomach. However i stuck the pill with my teeth and hid it under my tongue. Fortunately my head was slightly tilted so it was within the reach of my teeth. I waited until their presence faded away.
I spat out the pill the moment the I felt that they were not near. My chest was heaving frantically due to the long endurance of sorrow and dispair. I was hyperventilating. Tears gushed out from my eyes and blurred my view. I was finally able to led a soft cry.
Portions of the pill must have went into my body when I drank the water. Already it was doing its work. It was not enough for me to completely pass out, but enough to make me uncapable of walking. My legs were tremoring when I tried to stand up.
I intended to run away. Since I could not, I had to consider another plan.
Slowly I made my way to the bookshelf that belonged to someone else and shuffled my across every level of the shelf. I collapsed onto the floor and hit my knee whenever my legs failed to receive my brain signal. I was not going to let that stop me. Eventually I felt a paper knife on the third shelf.
New plan: Make myself unattractive to sell to sex bussiness man.
The least they could do was to get rid of me. They would not kill me unless under demand. Murderer would bring a serious consequence. They were not ready to inflict that kind of trouble on themselves.
I was not going to give them what they want. And I was not going to commit suicide like some lame weak girls. My parents died. I bet they would want me to live. If I could not make them happy when they were still alive, I could prove to them that I could live as well as others when they were watching in heaven.
That was my weak rationality speaking.
My emotions were screaming of help, hysterical like a little puppy who got hit by a bus. It was crazy, jammed, chaos.
My desparate gasps for air substantiated that fact.
The conflict in my brain messed up my mind even more.
I stumbled over to the window, ripping the black curtains off of it. Window was big. I opened the window and stuck my head and arms out, still weeping. There was grass underneath.
Quickly I pushed the sharp parts of the paper knife out of its plastic protection. It seemed sharp, gleaming under the moonlight. Without much thinking, I grabbed my long brown hair and began to cut it short and as uneven and ugly as possible. After I have done my work, I put the sharp edges of the against the outter side of the wrist. "No scars" he said? Now my body was going to be full of fresh blood. I slowly pressed it down to my skin while sliding it at the same time, watching the red liquid seeping out from the scarlet flesh.
Blobs of blood fell onto the green grass, making a perfect contrast.
Red and green. How Christmas.
During the process of cutting, I bit on my lower lips so tight that the metal taste of blood was beginning to stimulate my tongue.
It hurted. So much. But it was nothing comparing to the death of my beloved parents.
I kept cutting. Even when the tears in front of my pupils were gradually turning red, i kept cutting.
"Claire!!!!!" Abruptly there was a sound of my name and a thud of the door flunging open behind me.
Startled, I snapped my head to the source of the noise.
There was a young man standing there.
He had an astonished yet anxious expression. His eyes were bulging out, mouth opened loosely. There was sweat dripped down his cheeks. I could make out a few heavy breathing using my incoherent brain.
His left hand was still on the door, stretched out all the way. He was wearing a beige clothing that was designed to look like a military soldier, though it was not camoflouge. I could not see his face because the blue cap on his head shadowed most of it, but a glimpse of short blond hair was visible.
He had sapphire blue eyes.
He stared at me with that face.
I stared at him.
That was how we met.
* * *
Grey That was how we met.
The minute I striked the door open, she was there.
Her hair was unevenly short and messy, almost zigzagged. Her mint green eyes were crazed with fear and bravery,contradictory but blended perfectly. Tear traces were on her cheek and there was some glimmering liquid hanging in her eyes. She was kneeling down. Blood was leaking out from her outter wrist. I heard small weeps coming out from the inside of her throat.
She was holding a black paper knife. It was tainted in bits of flesh and blood.
It was my knife.
And suddenly I did not know how to ask for it back.
