Pointed Gun

If No One Fears. . .

My heart pounded the moment the silence filled the air and I was escorted to a location by an unknown hand. Cold fingers that felt far too strong to belong to Ida, and not as delicate enough to be someone who didn't hate me.

The echo of crunching rocks and leaves beneath my feet got replaced by the hard surface of the pavement. A harsh draft quickly followed by the stale stench of rotting drywall and dirt that swarmed at a dangerous rate.

Where ever we were sure as hell wasn't up to code.

From one unknown journey to the next, contained more walking and silence. Long. Heavy. Scorching silence. My palms sweaty with anticipation mixed with a nice helping of collecting fear.

These moments sparked a tiny match then threw it on a stack of hay. I could feel it slowly burning through me the more the silence and my surroundings contained a mystery.

Everything stopped once other sounds besides my breathing were audible. Ida's voice definitely among many. A few others that weren't remotely recognizable for the first time encountering them holding half of those conversations.

Something spoken about a package. Not as much of a materialized things as it was flesh and bone.

"Sit her over there." To my right, a strong stern voice established its dominance over the other smaller unimportant ones. I was unmistakenly in place of the 'her' they were talking about, clearly. And with even knowing that, I still felt like I wasn't the only one held hostage in the room.

They knocked me loose as my bottom met the freezing feel of a chair. Right after, my arms cut loose only to be wrapped around said chair for a bit more security on their part. I wasn't sure as to how many others were on the other side of the blindfold. How many guns were pointed to my skull and how many more watched and judged the show from the shadows for entertainment.

I held my breath, too afraid to make a sound and be drawn out from the crowd. There wasn't a crowd. Just me and silence. Heavy enough to break my back and leave me whaling.

And still, nothing was worse then what I went through. With Boston. With Ida. With Blair. I would take what was coming any day over what I had to face once it was all over. There's just no place for me.

"How you feeling, princess?" A voice interrupted my conversations with my thoughts

My vision shaken and on edge as the darkness surrounding it was stripped away and replaced with a bright blinding ray of light. The blindfold collecting around my neck.

"I would be better if there wasn't a bright light shining in my eyes." Smug and irritated. Exactly what that was. Such irritatingly unnecessary interrogations to last me for the remainder of my life.

"You guys hear that? The lady has an attitude." Multiple voices erupted in laughter around me. Not one matched a face. None visible from the shine in my eyes.

"Oh please. If you think this is an attitude, then you clearly haven't seen anything yet." Where on earth did that come spiraling out from?

"Oh yeah? How about you show me then." A hand caught my throat. And with it, a face. A very familiar and angry face. Gavin barring his teeth and tightening fingers. I gasped. Recalling a similar moment like this one.

I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't prevent the thoughts from overwhelming. From blinding me. Why does it always have to come back to this?

"Get. . . your goddamn. . . hands off of. . .her!" A failing scream took Gavin's attention as he released me, my struggled gasps and choked coughs being the only sounds audible.