The Gifted [INDEFINITE HIATUS]

6 • Rel

TRIGGER WARNING: I tried writing something kind of intense in this chapter, and although I'm pretty sure I failed, I'm warning you anyway just in case what I did write is enough to trigger something. And if I really messed up in this scene, please tell me how I can improve it.

Standing, frozen, with a gun pointed at my face, I can't even think. I'm paralyzed with panic, unable to move a muscle even if I wanted to.

A gun. They're practically nonexistent nowadays outside of law enforcement, because the government is so against violence. I've never seen a loaded gun in real life. It's just my luck that the first time I do see one, it's about to blow my brains out.

Calm down, I think, but the panic is rising inside me. I've been in near death situations before, and I was able to get myself out of them. But I've never been this helpless before. I'm not even armed.

"You're going to come with us, young lady," the police officer says, giving me a look that left no room for protest. "And for your own sake, I hope you come quietly."

Try and make me. That's what I open my mouth to say. But all that actually comes out is a mumbled squeak that sounds more like "tenmekee". The man seemed to get the gist of what I was trying to say, though, because his finger twitches towards the trigger. "You're going to do exactly as I say," he says in a low, dangerous voice, "or I will not hesitate to blow your brains out."

I barely hear the last part, because suddenly, I'm not in the elevator anymore.

I'm standing in a dark, narrow street, dimly lit by distant streetlamps. I don't know how I got here--only that not too long ago, I was walking down a busy street with the older teens who had taken me and some of the other little kids out shopping, but somehow, I'd gotten separated from them, taken a few wrong turns, and ended up here. I'm cold, my flimsy coat doing little to keep out the wind, and I'm terrified, with absolutely no idea how to get back to the orphanage. I'm only five years old.

And then there is a man in front of me, and he is grinning wickedly, and I'm screaming for help but he doesn't say anything because he knows there is no one near to hear me. And I'm backing up against the brick wall of the building behind me, choked screams echoing through empty air, all alone, and the man is coming closer and he's undoing the belt holding his pants up and I don't know what is happening, only that it is really, really bad.

My ragged screams tear through the air again as he comes closer, and then his hands are on me and I'm screaming and screaming for help with nobody to hear me. Screaming for him to stop, screaming for someone to please walk in on this and see what is happening, screaming for him to get away. Tears stream down my face as I writhe and kick out, trying to get him off, but I am tiny and he is huge and it's useless. My voice is hoarse and raspy, almost gone. But I still manage to shriek out that whatever he wants, I am not going to give it to him.

His voice grates against my ears, his hot breath nearly suffocating me. "Don't be ridiculous... you're going to do exactly as I say."

And I'm back in the elevator, the metal digging into my back as I press myself against back wall, images from a decade ago flashing in front of my eyes. 

You're going to do exactly as I say. The words ring in my ears over and over again, accompanied by a strange buzzing. I try to tell myself that this is not the same situation, but it doesn't quell the rising panic that is choking me off, making me gasp for air, causing the haunting images to swim through my mind.