Monster III

Monster III
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/7/10

With the slightest bump, my head seemed to crash against the steel pillow in the trunk that now jailed me. Nothing I did would release my legs or arms from their bondage. The tape over my mouth was suffocating and I had to remind myself to breath through my nose. I had to shift off my side and the tire they had thrown me on. My broken ribs couldn’t take one more hit.

The car began to slow and I stifled all movement. Then came the laugh, that maniacal laugh. All movement ceased. Car doors slammed. The trunk opened. I was lifted and thrown to the ground. A dog came and sniffed me. He was called away. I was left on the dirt behind the car.

I’m not sure how long I remained on the ground. It was still night so I knew we hadn’t driven far from where I lived. I was thankful that I fell asleep, because that was the only thing that kept the pain away. When I woke, dawn was making its presence. The dog from before slept less than a foot away. I tried to inch my way onto my back. Any sudden movement would reintroduce me to my broken parts.

Before I turned completely over, there was a swift shattering kick to my back. The dog scurried under a truck as I was heaved into the air. My screams didn’t make it beyond my taped mouth, but I couldn’t take the hefty shoulder that was stabbing my fractured ribs. With a deep rooted evil, he made a quick jump up with each step.

The walk took us through the woods to a clearing, which held a shack of some sort. We entered and descended down a stairwell into the same darkness I had experienced at my house. I couldn’t focus beyond my pain, but there was an soft audible crying coming from the pitch blackness that surrounded us.

I was thrown onto a mattress and introduced to a dim light from the corner of the small space. My arms, legs, and mouth were set free. Within seconds the door shut and the locked turned. I protected my pain by staying in my fetal position. There was no where I could go, so I decided not to irritate my wounds.

There wasn’t much I could see from my position, but then there was that crying again. I wanted to answer it with comfort, but I couldn’t withstand another blow of any kind. I was not sure how close or far my captors were. My consciousness refused to remain consistent, so I lost track of time. Minutes, hours, or days could have passed without my knowledge. I just knew movement equalled pain, so I remained in my little ball.

Awoken again, this time to the sound of the lock being undone and the door opening. There was a scuffle of feet. I don’t know if I was dreaming or if my eyes were swollen shut, but now that faint crying was sharing my space.

The cry spoke to me, “Linda? Linda is that you?” Shit! They had her too.