She was tired. She was hurt. She opened her eyes, it was night. She hurt every where. Part of her was in the water. The other was on sand. She looked to the right, there was a body. He was gone. His eyes were glassy. His wrinkled skin was blue. He died in the water, he was washed with her. She was not gone. She slowly got up, her entire body throbbed in pain. She walked away, towards the land. Away from the man, away from the water.
Twelve.
Suddenly there was light. Too much light, directed towards her. She couldn't see. People were running, they were screaming. Screaming for her, at her. She didn't understand. They finally removed the light, they saw her. She didn't look well. She was bleeding, she was hurt. Someone came, it was a woman. She was talking. She didn't understand. They brought her to a car. She followed. They were gentle. They tried to touch her, but she flinched. They stopped. They drove her somewhere, she let them. They brought her to a police station. It was different here, she noticed. She was sitting in a room, she remembered. There were twelve. But no more. They were four.
Two people came in. A man and a woman. They were grim. She waited.They tried to talk, but she couldn't understand so they showed her. Twelve pictures. Twelve girls. She wondered, they weren't supposed to be twelve, not anymore. They were only four, plus one. Her. She was not part of them. She looked at the pictures. She placed them in a circle. A clock. Twelve. Once a month, he sends them away. They never return. Once a month, that's how he likes it. She looked at the girls. She was not supposed to see them. Not again. She reversed the pictures that were not supposed to be seen. They were gone. Face down. Four left. She was not there, never there.
The woman showed her a piece of paper, they were desperate. She looked at the paper, it was a drawing. A compass. She knew what that was. A compass points to a direction. A compass points to a location. The woman pointed at the compass, then at the girls. She understood. She shook her head, she didn't know the answer. They drew again, this time they were stick figures. A long figure taking a smaller one in a car. Kidnap. She understood. She took the paper, she took the pencil and she drew. It was picture she often saw. They were stick figure's., A tall figure, another figure with a triangle for a dress and a little figure in the middle.There was no happy sun on top. Not for her. She pointed to the little figure in the middle and pointed herself. They nodded. She pointed to the figure the triangle for a dress and pointed and faced down picture. He sent her away. They nodded. She pointed to the tall figure and then pointed to the other one on the other paper. The kidnapper. They nodded. They smiled at her, there was hope. She didn't smile back.
She waited. She waited by a police desk. They were angry, tired. They looked. Finally they found something, they were happy, . They left in a hurry. She waited. She knew how to do that. They were four. She was not part of them. Suddenly there were cries. Cries of joy, cries of happiness. Laughs. They were there. The four. They were crying they were happy. She never saw them happy, she had trouble understanding. They looked around, they saw her. There faces brightened. They knew she helped save them. That was why she left. They ran to her. They hugged her, it was weird. Except one. One she liked, she always liked. They hugged tightly. She stared and for the first time she was kissed. A kiss she liked. A kiss she loved. It was slow, it was gentle and passionate. They were synchronized. Her head buzzed and her stomach was tingly. She loved it. She never understood what love was. Now she did. She loved her. They broke apart, breathless. They hugged, the others joined She smiled, she never knew she was part of them. They were all broken, all five. If they stuck together like they did before, they will be okay, she hopped. Hope. A beautiful word for a beautiful meaning.The girl in her arms spoke:
"We made it" she whispered with a smile. Her, she understood. She always understood her. Their forehead pressed together and all their arms were around each other holding the circle tight. They will be fine. And for the first time she felt like talking. She felt like using her voice, her song. And she did, she spoke. It was raspy and unused but she did. It was time.
"We did"
