Page 5 of Strange Love

The man’s voice is harsh and demanding. “You were supposed to grab the younger one,” he growls.

“I tried,” the woman stammers. “This one got in the way.”

“This is a big mistake,” the man says. “He’s going to be furious when he finds out.”

“What will he do with her?” the woman asks, her voice trembling.

The man sighs heavily. “Who knows? I guess it depends on if she cooperates.”

With each passing minute, the weight of fear and uncertainty crushes down on me. I’m desperately trying to become invisible, hoping that if I stay quiet, they’ll forget about me. But how can I ignore the pounding of my heart and the racing thoughts in my mind? Every breath feels like a struggle as panic threatens to overtake me. Why did they take me? What do they want from me? Am I going to die? My mind flashes to memories of my family, and I nearly choke on a strangled sob that threatens to break free from my throat.

The van jolts and swerves, throwing me against the rigid metal walls. The impact rattles my bones and churns my stomach further. With each turn, I am reminded how vulnerable and helpless I am.

The bumpy dirt road seems endless. My mind tries to escape into memories of happier times with my family, but all I can see is my sister’s face as we were torn apart.

Abruptly, the van jerks to a stop, bringing me back to the present. My heart races even faster as I wonder what horrors are awaiting me at this mysterious destination. Is it worse than being trapped in this van? A cold shiver runs down my spine as I realize that whatever these people have in store for me can’t be good. I shut my eyes, hoping that when I open them, I will be back home, comfortable in my bed. Instead, the back doors fly open, and bright sunlight blinds me momentarily. As my eyes adjust, I see the couple staring at me impatiently.

“Wake up!” He roars. The sound of his voice makes me shake with fear. His hulking figure stands at the van’s entrance, and his dark eyes contemptuously glare at me. “Come on,” he snaps, “crawl on out, ya hear? We have someone for you to meet.”

The woman stands beside him with my backpack, worn and heavy with memories, slung over her shoulder. A jolt of emotion pulses through my chest at the sight of it. A piece of home is here with me, shining like the brightest star in the sky. It’s hope, and it’s all I have. As I reach for it, desperate for its comforting presence, she pulls back and delivers a fierce slap across my face. The force of the blow snaps my head to the side, pain rippling from my cheekbone down my jaw. My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I’m too terrified to let them fall. An instinctive sense, something from deep inside my gut, tells me that showing any weakness will only invite more abuse. So I stand there, trying to hold myself together as the weight of fear settles around me like a suffocating blanket.

The man towers over me, filling the space with menace. His stomach protrudes from a tight, white undershirt, the fabric stretched taut as if it’s fighting a losing battle against the circumference of his soft belly. His shoulders are defined and muscular, evidence of the strength that could easily snap me in two. His hands are calloused and stained, and his facial features twist into a cruel sneer, revealing tobacco-yellowed teeth when I gaze to meet his face. Thin wisps of graying hair escape his ponytail, and deep crevices line his weathered face. He maintains his composure, but a slight twitch in his jaw betrays his mounting frustration.

Meanwhile, the woman paces in the dirt with restless energy, kicking up dust and rocks in her wake. Her hands twist and pull at the hem of her threadbare blouse. Upon closer inspection, I notice that she’s very skinny, and her clothes hang off her body. Her collarbones protrude prominently from under paper-thin skin. She appears older than she likely is, lines etched deeply around her eyes and mouth like scars from a long-fought battle. Her hair hangs limply down her back, and an unkempt braid struggles to contain it.

“Now listen up, Girlie,” the man says gruffly. “You come with us and don’t make a peep. Sit there and keep your mouth shut, and maybe we’ll all walk away from this alive.”

I nod, and my heart continues pounding as I scan the terrain. A seemingly endless expanse of dried-up grass and dirt is punctuated by a few withered trees that stand beyond a barbed wire fence. My gaze shifts, and I’m met with an imposing view of enormous snow-capped mountains reaching high into the sky.

There are several standing buildings within the confines of the fences, but my attention is drawn to the one we are walking toward. It’s the most prominent building in the cluster, situated in the center. It’s impossible to miss, with its vast windows and dome-shaped roof coated in reflective glass. It’s giving off an eerie, almost extraterrestrial vibe.

We trudge up the front steps, and my throat tightens as we reach a giant door. The man pushes it open without hesitation, and I follow him tentatively. The woman walks close behind me, her acrid breath is hot and heavy on my neck.

The room is large and sparsely furnished; a single desk sits in the center, and a brown-haired girl sits behind it, wearing a baggy, plain beige dress that reminds me of oatmeal and her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She appears young, like my babysitter, Mandy. Mandy is sixteen, and this girl can’t be much older than that. Her hands are folded atop the desk, but there is nothing else - no pen or paper to indicate that she works here.

“We need to see Auron,” the man says, glancing at me.

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” she replies, standing up and walking away. The sound of her hard-soled shoes clacking against the brown terrazzo floor fills my ears, reminding me of something my mom said recently about wanting this kind of flooring in our home. The thought of never seeing her again makes my chest squeeze so tightly I can’t breathe. Everything I’ve been pushing down all day breaks free in one loud sob. Hot tears start to course down my cheeks, stinging the raw area where I was slapped earlier.

“Quit your crying,” the man whispers in my ear. I do my best to adhere to his command, once again choking back tears and wiping the remnants with the sleeve of my jacket. Footsteps sound behind us, and I see the brown-haired girl from before walking toward us.

“He can see you now,” she says. Her smile never falters as she leads us down the hallway, but there’s a deadness in her eyes.

We follow her into a spacious office with a window to the left and a comfortable seating area to the right. Everything about this room is cold and uninviting. Behind the sleek desk stands a tall man with brown hair beginning to gray at the temples and a sharp, hawk-like nose. His skin is tan, and his face is clean-shaven. He could pass for one of my friend’s dads, except for the coldness behind his eyes.

He strides over to us, his polished leather shoes clicking against the floor. His gaze is steady and confident like he’s used to wielding power and control. His eyes flicker towards me before settling on the man standing beside him with his arms crossed and a scowl.

“Peter,” he speaks in a smooth, even tone. “It appears we’ve encountered a small issue.”

Peter clears his throat before responding. “Yes, Auron. It was going according to plan until she came along.” The way he spits out the word “she” reveals his disdain and resentment.

Auron’s eyes shift back to me as he asks, “By ‘she,’ I assume you mean this young girl?”

“Yes,” he says with a nervous nod. “She helped the younger one escape.”

The man, Auron, towers over me. His intensity is palpable, and it makes my body shake with fear. He takes a step closer, and I shrink back, trembling.

“Did you help the little girl escape?” he asks, his voice low but firm. I know I have to tread carefully with my answer. If I tell the truth, he may get angry and hurt me. But if I lie, the consequences could be even worse. My throat constricts, and I nod, too afraid to speak.