Silent, For One Week

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic


A Brief History Of Time.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Day One

Submitted: March 14, 2019

Reads: 156

Comments: 4

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Submitted: March 14, 2019

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What a beautiful day, to wake up normal, how under-rated becomes the simplest of moments: wake up, stretch out in the sheets, fall back asleep, hit the snooze button; fast asleep against the snore of our bedtime companion.

I did not hear the "snore". Yet, I still rolled over. Maybe she had finally attached that sleep apnea mask, like a menacing nostril plastic monster and this become our reprieve, for her and for me.

 

Two hours later.

I hear nothing. No snore, no rustle if the sheets from any restless leg syndrome, ( oh, so she had  so many problems that somehow became my own, yet I still loved her, for better or for worse ), no screaming from the nightmare that always haunts her, a childhood of nightmares that became her day to day person, always chasing after her, nothing. Silence. For once, silence.

 

I figured she got up early and had gone to rejuvenate in the shower, a refreshment of scents and comfort brought upon by the joy of just be cleansed. She had secrets I knew about and I understood her private moments of solitude. If I knew anything beyond what she has revealed to me, then I know could change her past if she gave the chance. She was kind enough to not allow me to take such powers into my own hand, and chose to live with those demons; whom was she protecting? Myself or her?

Someone had left the bathroom sink water running and shut the door . They were smart to add such details.

I went downstairs to feed cat. Her purring seemed to tell another story as though she had seen something, but then again, she is always the last witness to things in the moments in between our lives.

Collecting the trash, I step inside my slippers and venture outside. The air is fresh and full of childhood memories, and the long walk down the driveway remind me of the chores my parents had once given to me; responsibility and care, that is how we live nicely to go bout our day to day existence.

 

I walk back up the path, into the house, the coffee set to brew before my exit ready, so I sit and relax, one last time.

 

She doesn't come down from upstairs; usually the aroma brings her arrival, as time becomes habitual.

 

I think nothing of it, letting her rest, and get dressed, not disturbing her apparent need for a much wanted slumber.

 

I go to work. And, my normal day continues, but only for a brief time, in this history.

If I had only known she was never even there when I awoke on that day; me, leaving the house so casually, I would have doubled checked on her, worried a bit more, made sure everything was alright.

Now, I am the one to blame for her disappearance, the 'number one' suspect with them, the "officials".

So, here I am. Her protection has become no more for myself to live behind.

And, there I was, realizing all the wrong things I didn't want to see or hear, or talk about; woke up.

Tied to chair, bound and gagged, hands roped being my back, breath searching for air through a gurgling cloth, for these are not really "officials". I am with the same captors that have taken my captivated one, locked up, tied away even more than I, in some far away caged and pent room, in this moment, and used against me to keep silent. I know why they took her, and I am the only one that knows why.

They tell me I have a choice, a decision to make: If I want her to live, I must stay silent upon my release, not say one word, share one answering emotion, or give one clue away knowing I could free her at any time.

I know what to do.

I will find a way out.

Its just another beautiful day, to wake up normal.

Day one.

 

 


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