III. Despair
Third
POV
Once
both of them were out of the room, Ángeles was finally able to let a sigh of
relief out of her mouth. She tried getting a bit more comfortable over the bed
she was sat on and laid the side of her head on the wall. She still couldn’t
find the reason why she was kidnapped. They had no money, no contacts or
nothing of the sort… what did those men want from her and her mother? Anyhow,
she knew that she wouldn’t find the answer until she was set free… if that time
ever happened… Would she ever get to see the sky again?
She
laid over the bed to rest for a bit while they
weren’t around her but couldn’t let herself relax too much as she wasn’t sure
when they were going to return –and she couldn’t possibly be asleep when they
came back… she still didn’t know what they could do to her.
Silence
All
she could hear was nothing. And this didn’t help with the fact that her brain
started to think over and over again the worst possible situations. She had
seen way too many movies about kidnappings; and some things she’d learned from
them were that they were always planned either for the ransom or to sell women
as prostitutes. Would they do that to her? Would she see her mother ever again?
As
she turned, her back facing the door, she couldn’t help but start realizing how
tired she was. It was difficult for her to keep her eyelids from closing and
falling asleep. The cloth around her eyes weren’t of much help, since it was
bothersome, making her itchy.
- Don’t fall asleep,
Angie…d-don’t fall as-leep… - She kept murmuring to herself.
Even if she was trying really hard,
it was in vain. She couldn’t fight her body’s needs. She was too tired and couldn’t
do anything about it. She needed to rest, whether she wanted or not.
Her heartbeat started slowing its
pace; her breaths were now harmoniously even.
She wasn’t snoring but, evidently,
she had fallen asleep. At least she could now dream and escape the real word
that was crushing her.
Fifteen minutes have passed and she
was still asleep. Some noises could be heard from the other side of the door
but Angie didn’t seem to notice. It seemed that they had come back from wherever they had gone to.
Afterwards,
they started heading to the door. The door that led to Angie’s room.
- So? - One of them
asked from the back of the door.
- Ev’rything’s
a’ight, man. She was blubberin’ somethin’ all da time. ‘see when they start
talkin’ to ‘emselves? - The man who
apparently had stayed to watch her answered with a deep accent.
- Hm, it’s always
like that. -
- Yeah, but never had I seen a chick talk to ‘erself
that much, man. She’s cray-cray! ‘been affected too much, don’t’cha think?
-
- I don’t really care
to be honest. You can leave if you want, I’m staying with him. - The man
brushed the cold man’s words off and left them alone. A car’s engine roared
alive and gravel was heard as it pulled away from the driveway. - Let’s see how
daddy’s girl is doing. - He chuckled
of his own joke and entered the room followed by another man.
The man who seemed to be the leader
analyzed the room and quickly realized that one piece of cloth was on the
table. He moved towards it, and grasped it with so much force that he almost knocked
the lamp that was next to it, to the floor. Clearly annoyed, he turned around
and glared at the other man.
- Brock, isn’t this
supposed to be tied over the girl’s mouth? - He spat, clearly raged.
- Y-yes… b-but you
came in a hurry and… w-we left in such a rush-h that I… - he paused and gulped
- that I forgot… sorry…-
- Sorry? What would have happened if she
had cried for help and alarmed the neighbors!? - The raise in his voice was so
unexpected that Brock flinched and took a step away. He looked to the floor,
still scared.
- It won’t happen
again. - He tried sounding convincing but wasn’t still able to speak loud
enough, and it came more as a whisper.
- No, no it won’t. -
He turned around and focused on Angie once again. After looking intently at
her, up and down, he finally said choosing his words wisely: - The lass is
eye-catching, don’t you think? - A grin materialized on his face.
- I guess so. - He
replied on a whim afraid to be yelled at again.
- Don’t stress
yourself out, Brock. It was merely a comment. - He laughed out loud and patted Brock’s shoulder. For a couple of minutes all you could hear was his laugh and
Angie’s even breaths. Brock looked back at him as he couldn’t really comprehend
what the joke was about. - Let’s talk to her for some minutes. - He smirked
maliciously. The man started approaching the bed, so that he could have a sit
next to her, but Brock was faster and stood on his way. - What the hell is
wrong with you? -
- She’s sleeping… -
- Yeah, so? - He inquired with a clear look of
annoyance in his face as his eyebrows furrowed closer.
- Yo-our talk can wait. - Brock swallowed
hard, trying to hide how he was really feeling at the moment, and the leader, a
bit stunned but still mad, answered:
- Okay. I’m hungry
anyway; I’m going to eat something. - He shrugged and threw his hand over his
shoulder as a goodbye gesture, leaving the room. Brock, still shocked by the
way both of them had acted, felt his heart beating so fast and with such power
inside his ribcage that he thought it was possible for it to actually make its way
out.
He walked towards the far end of the
bed and sat on the floor, against the wall. Laying his head on both of the
palms of his hands, he furiously grasped his disheveled strands of hair. He
was in such a desperate state that he couldn’t stop the tears coming out of his
eyes.
