“Alright.” I nod, then slide the night vision goggles off of my face before removing the mask. Instantly the cold air hits my heated skin, and I breathe in the fresh air.
“Just one more thing to do.” Eli speaks before a deafening blow radiates across the open space, the ground vibrating underneath us. The night sky glows with a burning orange as flames fly high, plumes of smoke circling like a tornado above us. I watch on as the warehouse blows to pieces, once again.
“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” I say through a snigger, my eyes bouncing between Eli and the now flattenedbuilding.
“The wife said to burn this fucker down, and I’d hate to disappoint her.” Eli says with a shit eating grin on his face then proceeds to climb into the truck.
Turning on my heels, I give the building one last glance before climbing into the passenger seat, then Eli quickly steps on the accelerator and hightails us out of there.
The smell of rotting flesh permeates the air around me, settling heavy into my skin like a thick blanket, covering me in its sour embrace. Copper floods into my mouth like a tidal wave, the crimson liquid seeping between the gaps in my teeth as I lay next to my dead friend. I think she’s dead but I can’t be too sure, she hasn’t said much to me but I can hear her voice somewhere, it sounds far away and close at the same time, like it’s spinning around in my mind.
Emily’s hair is soft in between my fingers as I thread the brittle ends between the pads of my fingers, twirling the strands aimlessly.
“Is everything okay?” I croak out, my face planted heavily against the concrete floor. Emily’s gaunt, pale face stares back at me and I think she blinks, she must have blinked, I saw it. Her thin eyelids close over the orbs of her eyes, but instead of closing in a downwards motion, her eyelids slide over from the side instead, kind of like a reptile’s eyes.
I shuffle closer to her now, our noses inches from each other and I place my hand on her cold cheek. “Dean will be here soon, he said so, he told me.” I say with a promise and Emily smilesback at me, her mouth pulled wide, almost inhuman. I stare into the abyss of her mouth, noticing that all her teeth are missing, just the pink fleshy gums line her cave like mouth and like my hand has a mind of its own, it slips away from her cheek and slides into the blackness of her mouth. It’s warm and wet, and I can easily slip my whole arm inside her face until I’m elbow deep.
The sides of her mouth begin to split open the further I push my arm inside, the thin skin fraying open like the seams of old jeans, each stitch breaking under the strain and I swear I can feel her insides against my hand. The warmness of her lungs beneath my fingers, the ridges that travel across the organs are like the cracks of a desert floor, dry and deep.
Emily’s eyes snap open and an ear piercing cry splits the air. Immediately, I fall backwards, scrambling fearfully away from Emily’s corpse until my back hits the wall with a thud. In a frantic state I lift my hand in front of my face, noticing that it’s dry and free of Emily’s insides.
What the fuck was that? What the fuck is happening to me? I begin to panic, my chest heaving with strained breaths that seem to struggle for air in this tight room. Lifting my other hand, I plunge them into my greasy hair and tug at the roots tightly, using any sort of pain to ground me, to stop me from slipping into that dark abyss. It doesn’t do much, but it does enough as I feel my erratic heartbeat begin to slow down to a regular rhythm, the blackness that threatened to cloud my vision crumbles away.
I need to get out of here. I don’t even know how long it’s been since Ricky left me here, probably to die, and yet, death still hasn’t come for me. It never does. I somehow seem to avoid it at every chance it gets to take me and I can’t take it anymore, it’s cruel and torturous, leaving me hanging by a frail thread.
And Dean, God, my soul aches every time he slips into my mind,filling my brain with memories that should make me smile, instead they have me doubling over in pain and each time they arrive, I’m ready to take a screwdriver and ram it in between my eyes just to cut the vision off, to sever the frontal lobe. I’d give anything to be near him again, to feel his warmth and smell his woodsy scent, to hear his rough baritone in my ears. I’d sell my soul, but I fear I don’t have one left to sell.
How many days has it been now? Or weeks? I seem to have lost count, but the smell in here is getting worse by the day and my stomach grumbles in pain. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten but my stomach definitely knows it’s been too long. I’m starting to miss my daily meal of stale bread and water. It wasn’t much, but it’s better than this.
I keep myself firmly planted in the corner of the basement, away from Emily’s rotting corpse. Her graying skin has started to crawl with insects, maggots like walking grains of rice slither and slide under and over her decomposing body, her thin skin rippling, almost like it’s alive even thoughsheisn’t. The sight alone has me retching and dry heaving but nothing comes out, not even saliva can be found in my mouth anymore.
Turning away from the sickening sight, I try to crawl across the floor towards the small window. My bones ache and crack as I drag myself across the floor, feeling the small stones dig into my abused knees. With each movement, the slashes across my stomach pull and sting. They could be infected but I’m not sure, no one ever came to check. I pass by Emily’s corpse that’s justbeginning to melt into the floor, her stomach bloated, the bluish veins threatening to burst free from her skin. I should look away, but I can’t. I can’t unsee the vision of my husband gutting her with that barbed baseball bat, the noises it made as it hit her skin, splitting it wide open still haunts me, the sound of a never ending nightmare.
I manage to reach the wall that has the window, but it’s too far away to see out from where I’m kneeling. I hang my head in my hands, the feeling of failure and exhaustion biting at my ankles but I can’t just sit here and wait to die. Lifting my head from my hands, I grip hold of the wall and use the edges of the bricks to pull myself up right. Hours and hours of lying on my side on the cold hard floor has my muscles screaming in pain. The moment I manage to stand up my legs begin to tremble, threatening to collapse beneath me and I use the wall to keep me steady.
I can do this.
Ineedto do this.
Tipping my head back to face the window, I try to calculate how high it is. It’s definitely lower than Dean’s height and if I can manage to climb up the wall, I should be able to take a peek outside. This is probably the stupidest idea I’ve ever had but if I can see outside, maybe I can take a guess at where I am.
Inhaling deeply, I press my bare foot into a small crevice in the wall and then find another one to grab a hold of with my hand. Once I feel like my footing is secure, I use all the strength I have to pull my weak body upwards. The rough edges of the bricks cut into the sole of my foot as I push myself upwards, the window almost in reach. Keeping my left hand in place, I lift my right hand upwards and find another ledge to grab.
Each step, and pull, and lift is agonising on my brittle body but I continue, pushing through the pain until my hand reachesthe metal bars that cover the window. I use those bars to hoist myself up higher, my toes barely finding purchase on the bricks. One of the sharp bricks crumbles under my weight and I slip, my body smacking against the wall, effectively knocking the wind out of me but I don’t let go of the bars, I can’t. I’ve made it this far.
I take a moment to catch my breath and shuffle my foot along the wall to find a better crevice to slip my foot into, all the while my jaw aches from gritting too hard and my arms begin to burn from holding on tightly. Once my foot has found a better ledge, I push with everything I have and use the bars once again to hoist myself up until I can see the outside world.
The moment my eyes land on the blue sky that’s covered with wispy clouds, they flood with tears. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sky or felt the wind against my face. I can almost imagine what it feels like.
My legs begin to tremble as they struggle to hold me up but I keep a firm grip on the metal bars and scan across the open space outside. The window is eyeline with the gravel floor which means I’m being imprisoned under a building, but what building I don’t know. Dense green trees are packed tightly together across the outskirts of the area and that’s when I realise, I’m not in Rockford anymore. I recognise those trees, I’d spent years looking at them from my golden cage, wishing that I could escape and fly over them like a wild bird.
My husband has well and truly taken me from my home, and back to my original prison cell. Dean is never going to find me here, I never told him where I’d run from when I escaped from Ricky, I just arrived with a bag on my back and a beat up old car.
Realisation hits me like a ton of bricks at the thought that I might never actually escape from here, and I can feel what’s left of my heart cracking wide open at the memories that I never gotto make, the experiences I’ll miss out on.
I always wanted to dance in the kitchen, listening to classic rock music. To feel the cold tiles of a kitchen floor under my bare feet as I sway to the rhythm. I wanted Dean to take me book shopping, to go swimming with Lyla in the lake, maybe a wine night with Cecilia and the girls.
All of these opportunities, stripped away from me by aman.A man who I’d vowed to love in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I can safely say that love no longer exists and I can only hope that death takes him first.
