Marked: Chapter 23

“Girls?” Mom’s hoarse voice wakes me from what light sleep I’ve been able to find.

Rolling my head back, I try to focus on her. It’s been dark for so long now; I can see pretty well through it.

“Yeah, Mom?” My sister’s voice is getting weaker. She’s getting weaker as the time passes. I reach over to her, sliding my hand through the dirt and grime covering the cement floor. When our fingers touch, she flinches.

“It’s just me.” I cover her hand, squeezing it. She’s taken so much more of the abuse. They consider her the pretty one.

Between the two of us, everyone’s always thought she was the prettiest, and I’ve always thought it was my curse.

“I don’t think they’re coming back,” Mom says. “We should try to get to get these chains off again.”

“I’m tired,” my sister whispers. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, sweetie, but we have to get to the door,” Mom directs us. “Maybe if we all grab hold of one chain, we can break it?”

“We tried that already,” I point out. Mom’s tried to keep us talking, to keep us aware, but it seems her mind has started to slip.

Going this long without any light. Not knowing what time or what day it is. It’s bound to mess with our minds.

“It’s been days, I think,” I say, squeezing my sister’s hand again. “But we’ll be okay. They’ll come in and give us water.” I’m not so sure about that anymore, though. They’ve never gone this long without bringing us at least a peanut butter sandwich, and a bottle of water.

“We’re no good to them dead.” My sister repeats my words back to me, and tightens her grip around my hand.

She’s gotten so weak.

“How is your side?” I lean toward her, trying to feel down her ribcage, but she’s too far away. We’re only able to touch hands when we stretch the chains out to the max.

“It’s fine. I promise.” She laughs. “I’ve been meaning to lose a few pounds anyway.” The little joke gives me hope she’s not too far gone. They haven’t beaten her soul.

“I’m so sorry, girls.” Mom’s sob breaks her sentence. “I don’t understand why this happened. I don’t understand.”

“It’s all right, Mom.” I let go of Jackie and scoot over to my mom, reaching as far as I can until I can touch her. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” She pulls her hand away. “It’s my fault. I can’t believe this happened.”

My spine stiffens. We’ve been locked in this awful place forever, and she’s never spoken about this. “Do you know these guys?”

“No.” Her sniffle breaks through the darkness. “But one of the names, Jimmy. I heard of him. Steve did this.”

“Steve?” Her current boyfriend. “How did Steve do this?”

“He’s always losing money, borrowing money, and he took money from some guy– Jimmy. Steve said he had to put up a lot of collateral for the loan, but not to worry. He’d pay it back.” Another sob. “I think it was us. I think we’re the collateral.”

“Steve told these guys to hurt us?” Jackie’s voice gets a little stronger.

“I think he let them.” Mom yanks on her chains. “If I can just get my foot out. I can get to the door. I can get us out. I can save us.” She’s hysterical now. Metal scrapes along the concrete. The chains jangle as she fights with her bonds.

“Mom. Mom. Mom!” My throat aches when I yell. “Stop. You’re just going to make your ankle bleed again. There is no getting out of these chains.”

She continues to struggle with them.

“Just let her.” Jackie’s voice is a whisper now. “I need to close my eyes for a few minutes.”

“No. Jackie, stay awake. We’ll sleep in a little while. Mom’s going to calm down. We’re going to find a way out. And then we’re going to find fucking Steve.” There. We just need goals. And finding Steve is mine.

“Just a few minutes, Charlie. Just a few minutes.” Jackie’s chains jingle as she repositions herself, lying down with her head away from me. I can’t reach her now, she’s too far.

“No. Don’t fall asleep yet. Mom’s going to calm down. We’re going to get out of these fucking chains.” My fingers curl into my palms, digging my nails into my skin. “We are getting the fuck out of here!” I scream into the darkness.

I’m tired too.

Bone tired.

But we can’t sleep.

We might not wake up.

I scream again. I don’t scream for help, because no help is coming. I don’t scream anyone’s name, because they won’t hear me. I just scream.

A wretched sound that stretches my throat until I can almost feel it splitting.

And when I’m done, and my throat burns like I’ve swallowed a lit match, and my chest heaves searching for air, I lean my head back against the wall.

“Please,” I whisper into the blackness of the room. “Please don’t let us die like this. Not like this.”

Mom sniffles.

Jackie makes no sound.

A bang draws my attention. Metal being hit with something hard, like a hammer.

No, bigger.

Another bang.

I squint my eyes toward the door. No one’s there.

It gets louder.

And louder.

Until the door flies open and light, bright as the sun itself, floods the area, blinding me when I look toward it.

Oh, no. They’re back.

Jackie’s asleep. She won’t be able to fight them. She’s too tired.

Mom’s crying gets more intense. She must see them too.

“Oh, god! There they are!”