The Taking of Eleanor Ainsworth

Chapter 9

Matthew had thought that death had come to claim him the moment that blade had pierced through his skin, he was convinced that the impact between his skull and the hard cold floor was enough to crack the bone open and leave him concussed.

He had lost consciousness on that day and he had hoped that when he did wake up, he would be standing on the white clouds way above the ground, in a different dimension, patiently waiting inline to enter his final resting place. The golden gates of Heaven standing tall ahead of him.

But death played a cruel joke on Matthew that day, he granted Matthew another chance at life when in reality Matthew wanted nothing more than to die and be relieved of the pain he was feeling. Instead of those beautiful golden gates that he had hoped for, he was presented with ugly off-white wallpaper and a flickering light.

He turned his head and looked out the window, listening to the steady beeping of his heart rate monitor, and the low murmurs of those around him.

"Mr Jones ?"

Matthew ignored the voice, in fact he had ignored everyone since he had been admitted, deeming everyone be background noise, serving no other purpose than to annoy him.

"Matthew !"

"What !" He groaned, turning his head.

The man cleared his throat "I'm Detective Mitchell and this here is -"

"Are you hear to tell me that you've found Eleanor or are you just waisting both yours and your partners time," he looked over to the blonde who was standing nervously at the door, a notebook tucked under her arm. He sighed and pushed the white sheet that was covering his body away from him.

"Mr Jones, I must assure you that we are doing everything in our power to get Miss Ainsworth home safe." Detective Mitchell breathed. Tugging at the front of his collar and swallowing. Matthew inhaled through his nose and leaned back, wincing as his skin stretched around the wound, creating a pulling sensation beneath his bandages.

"In order to get Ella home safe, you have to find Ella." He said, tilting his head up to the ceiling, examining the polystyrene tiles, and watching as a fly buzzed around the room, occasionally bumping into the large glass window.

"So." The blonde cleared her throat and stepped further into the room. "Do you remember anything else besides what you have already said to our colleagues ?" She asked, standing beside detective Mitchell. Matthew kept his eyes fixed on the fly and sighed as it repeatedly hit the window.

"I only remember being stabbed multiple times and watching helplessly as my girlfriend was dragged out of my car by her flipping feet." He caught his breath and began to cough frantically, strings of saliva and blood falling from his mouth as he leaned over the side of the bed gagging. The woman ran to his side and rubbed his back as he dry heaved.

"I couldn't do anything," he whispered, silent tears falling down his face. Anger was boiling deep in his system, It churned within, the pressure of this raging sea of anger building up within him, he was ready to burst but he suppressed it, biding his time, waiting for the moment when he would come face to face with Theo.

Detective Mitchell cleared his throat. "We looked into this Theo Wilson guy but nothing has shown up on the system so far, at the moment there is no record of him anywhere."

Matthew sat back up and stared at Detective Mitchell. "What do you mean theres no record him anywhere?" Matthew asked, clutching his stomach.

"Exactly what you think it means. We are still looking, he either comes up deceased or lives in a different city." Mitchell raked a hand through his brown locks and sighed. Getting up to open the window, releasing the fly from its prison. He turned back round to face Matthew and Pc Carter.