Held [Completed]

Nine.

Nine. 

With my arms crossed, I stare at the scattered pictures on the concrete floor. My eyes roam each Polaroid while my mind spins like a pinwheel. 

There are five photos of the same two people. A teen boy sitting across from a woman with long, chocolate brown hair. I notice that the one in the middle is the only photo with words on the back. Those words replay in my head like a broken record. 

'My favorite teacher, Mrs. Walters'

Could that be what M.W. stood for?

Pulling the slip of paper from my pocket, I trace the words with my fingertips. 

                                   'Soon.' 

                                         M.W.

it reads in a much neater handwriting than the photo.

I continue biting my lip while in thought. If M.W. means Mrs. Walters then that's just that. Nothing more. The woman in the photo is not my mother. She's just a person who looks similar to her with the same last name. 

With a small, agitated sigh, I lift the box  and chuck it across the room. It slams into the wall, making a small huff. With my fingers entwined in my hair, I close my eyes and slowly trace over my face. I need sleep and if I don't get any soon I'm bound to pass out. With that thought, I make my way over to my spot. Once I chain myself to the wall, I pocket the pin then lay down. But before I can close my eyes I hear the door opening.

My eyes open quickly when he exhales heavily, fanning my nape. A sudden shiver provokes my exposed arms, making goosebumps appear.

With silence encompassing us, he begins to un-lock me. I don't need to question what he's doing because I already know. It's time for breakfast. My stomach is growling because I haven't eaten in two days. But my mind, now that's a different story. My mind is full like a glass of water, just waiting for the chance to pour all of these unanswered questions out.

"Rich?" 

"Hm." He stands to stretch his arms. I notice another tattoo on his left arm. I can't see it because part of his sleeve covers it. 

"Are you the kid in the pictures?" 

His stance is hesitant while he stares at me in awe. The expression on his his face is one of shock before he looks around him. I'm staring at the dark ring around my ankle while awaiting his response. 

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, impatience gets the best of me.

"Why can't you just talk to me! I listen to you without back talking and this is how you treat me? Like I'm some-" 

"If I ignore you then that means shut the hell up." His dark eyes hold resentment while penetrating my soul. I should be terrified, but because he's only glaring at me, I feel safe enough to speak my mind.

"I'm not going to shut up when it comes to my mother. You knew her and I need to know how...or why." I say with firece conviction. "I deserve to know if I'm stuck here." I'm now standing up, mere inches from his intimidating stature.

"What stopped you from questioning me before?"

The question catches me off guard. I did not expect this, especially since I'm speaking up for myself.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" He's looking at me with scolding brown eyes. They're narrowed while his thin lips remain tight. 

"You-" I close my eyes to block the tears that are about to pour out. "You threatened to cut my tongue out."