Beyond the Bounds

Prologue

JASPER

May 4, 2016

If there was anything I could hear that night, it was probably the voice of my own mother screaming.

I was locked in my room, inspecting my old overused camera, when I heard banging outside my bedroom door. Smashing of doors and shattering of glasses echoed from the outside. It was a noisy mess joined together with voices of men relentlessly calling for my mother's name. I instantly sat up my bed and snuck in my little camera in my pocket as my fingers trembled with utter fear. I thought it couldn't get any worse, my heart was starting to rip its way out my chest.

But then there was the scream. My own sweet mother's screech echoing throughout the house like we were trapped in a gigantic enclosed room. I slowly creaked the door open and watched helplessly as my own mother's body was being dragged on the floor and out of her room.

It was a scream of pain.

A scream for mercy.

A guy instantly held me down when they saw me peaking through the door. He smashed my head into the wall, hard enough for me to black out for a second. Without hesitation, the guy had gathered all his strength to force each punch towards me. One after another. I fought back for the sake of our lives, but most importantly, for my mother's. He tried interlocking my arms together behind my back to prevent me from fighting back, but as soon as I found a way to loosen out of his grip, I forced a heavy punch to the guy's face.

I thought I was strong. I thought I could defend myself. However, when he struck me back with a punch greater than my best, I knew I was helpless. I could still hear my mother's unending struggle. "Jasper!!!" Her desperate call for my help sent shivers throughout my body. But I was nowhere near helping her; I couldn't even help myself. I then heard a loud smash.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

There was silence.

I couldn't tell if I was just getting knocked unconscious, or if it was just the soul leaving my mother's body. All I knew is that my world went black and I fell severely to the ground.

I woke up later that day to a cold and dim place. I was laying on the cold, hard floor like my body had completely given up. I found the impossible strength to lift myself up using only a hand and my other arm for support. My eyes, still adjusting, instantly scanned through my surroundings like a prisoner's first time in his cell. I was unfortunate to discover that I was inside a room. Locked? Probably. The room was poorly lit with only a light bulb at the top of the room. No beds, no furniture, nothing. The walls enclosing me looked like unpainted cement with pipes running down then across the walls. It felt like this place was worthy of crumbling down if someone wanted it to. I couldn't help but wonder why I was brought to such a location.

I sat there, leaning in the corner of the room, while my body ached with nothing but severe pain. As I finished examining the place, a shadow had caught my attention at the far end of the room; a figure which was unusually present and difficult to make out. I tried adjusting my vision to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the other side. Unluckily, I couldn't quite identify it from where I was sitting. I held onto the walls and lifted my weight up with the help of my hands. I immediately felt a sharp ache darting through my head as I stood up. The pain shot tears into my eyes and I tried holding it back by swiftly blinking. Looking at my trembling self, it was obvious that my knees were weak and the bruises on my arms and legs were starting to dry up. What in the world happened?

I shrugged the misery away and went over to the shadow that was calling for my attention. It was a terrifying walk since my mind hadn't completely grasped what in the world was going on. As soon as I came close however, I swear I physically felt my heart shatter inside of me. I literally felt it break into two. How could I not recognize that sweet and loving face? The face that had carried me in her womb for nine months. The face that had raised me all alone. My mommy. I walked a bit closer--hopeful for a hug from home--but as soon as the distance between us grew closer, I could instantly point out that she was stiff. She was pale. She wasn't breathing. My mommy's dead.

How could a person do this?

I instantly backed away with trembling hands and tears easily finding its way to my eyes. My mommy's gone. She's gone forever. And I wasn't able to do anything.

I sprinted back to the corner of the room in fear, opposite from my mommy's. My body was facing the corner of the wall as I allow my body to sink back to the floor completely. I wrapped my hands over my head, pulling my hair angrily. No no no no no. She can't be gone.

Why not me? WHY?

When our attackers came in later that day to sprinkle Rose petals "in honor of my mother," I couldn't even gather the strength to lunge towards them and maybe kill them myself. I was crying, I was broken, I was helpless. They were mocking.

Instead, I took out the little digital camera I had snuck in my pocket and snapped photos of them when they weren't looking at me. I don't commonly take pictures of dreadful memories. But this was a different story--this was a tragedy.

They spat at me before leaving, leaving me red and shaking with anger. But that wasn't the worst.

They left her with me for two days before taking her out. I was trapped in a room with my mother's lifeless body and the air smelling like rotten roses.

When she departed, I was trapped alone.

My mommy's gone.

I assumed it was my turn.