September 15th, 11:36 am,
Bella
It's the next day. A new one. A fresh start. Except it's exactly the same as yesterday. On the same couch, in the same room, with the same people. After the discussion between the three of us, we sat for another half an hour. When I say we, I mean me. I sat there for another half an hour, doing nothing. They went on their phones, leaving me out of it all. I tried to get up. Go outside. Get some fresh air. But they wouldn't let me. Told me I can't go yet. I am not allowed out of the room, let alone the building. I was scared. Having no recollection of the past 12 days freaks me out. More so that I am on a road trip I never agreed to come on. Or did I? I can't remember.
It's intimidating, not being allowed out. The only view I have is from the second-story window. When I looked, there was only a road, and a very graffitied wall opposite us. If I looked down, I could see underneath us. We are on top of what appears to be a bar. Broken down now; was once a bar. Dead LED lights hang off the walls. Countless words are imprinted on the walls, illegible from what I could see, though they were hard to read upside down. They are in all sorts of colors, mostly ranging from yellows to blues. I'm not a fan of vandalism, so being on top of such a place is scary. It's inside too- the graffiti. Lots of it. They didn't answer me when I asked if this was a hotel- but I suppose I already knew from the broken glass and bottles everywhere.
I feel trapped, both mentally and emotionally. For the entirety of last night, I didn't let my eyes close once. I spent the hours trying to piece together my forgotten life. If I think back far enough, I can recollect few events. I can only, however- remember going out with the two once. To a party. Only one time. I find it really hard to believe that they are the only friends I made. Though I am not a social person, they would be the last people I would choose. We are just so. . . different. Both of them are borderline alcoholics, and me. . . well, I am me.
The party is a vivid memory, the one that my brain keeps shuttering back to. I remember having the best time ever, though most parts are a haze. I have no idea how I got there and back, nor where I actually was. Like the rest of my visions, it was like I was placed in a room and left there, not having a clue how I got there.
The shadow is still there, haunting me. I know them. I know I do. They follow me everywhere, always at my side, but when I turn to look at them, they are never there. Like a ghost. It's like they are a massive part of my life but, for some reason, just got cut out. Leaving me clueless with only a black mist to help. I keep trying. Forcing myself to recognize them. But it's just a faceless voice.
''Bella, you awake yet?'' My eyes widen as I am thrown out of my thoughts. Mel enters through the one entrance, a small wooden door. I woke up about an hour ago, with no clue where Mel and Liam were. I wanted to try and leave, to get the bus and travel back home. But even if I tried to get out, I have no clue where I am. I know they aren't telling me on purpose, though. It must be for good reason. Maybe a surprise of some sort?
Nodding, I murmur a reply. ''Yeah, I'm awake.'' I sut my body up on the couch. I did sleep a bit last night, though I tried not to. The position I laid in was uncomfortable, leaving me with a sore back. I had to sleep sideways as to not hurt my hand anymore. I didn't want to tell them, but I think I broke my hand in the car crash. I would expect — going on a road trip — to spend the nights in hotels, not some derelict building. I don't even get the pleasure of having my own bed, which just adds to the mystery of it all. My body aches and I groan as I release the words, ''When are we leaving?''
''We have only been gone two days. We are going back on the 18th.'' One side of her mouth tilts up into a half-smile. ''For now, we need you to stay in here,'' She says sinisterly, now fully smiling. Not in a nice way. Grabbing onto the side of the door, she steps out, locking it behind her. ''And don't think about jumping, you'll die.''
What? I jump up instantly, running towards the door. I try the handle, hoping this is a joke and shaking it wildly. ''Mel, very funny. You can open the door now. . . please,'' I say, voice wavering. When there is no reply, I continue to shake the door frantically, harshly attempting to open it. I stand still for 5 seconds, waiting patiently for Mel to open it back up. I hear the slam of a door and then silence. I put it down to Mel's act. ''Ha Ha, you got me. Now can you let me go please?''
I am serious now, my nerves rising. I am in no immediate danger, at least I think I am not, but my anxiousness overrides my other senses. I repeatedly slam my body into the door, trying to break it open. After what feels like an eternity, I realize she isn't coming back. ''Please,'' I whimper, though no one can hear me. It's no different from how I have been the past 20 or so hours- sat in the same room, but never locked in. I feel claustrophobic, my body closed in between the four walls. It's a gigantic room, but so, so small right now. I am nowhere near strong enough to break through the solid oak, but I still attempt to, my shoulder reverberating with pain. I can practically feel the bruises forming under my skin, turning purple with force.
I don't stop for the next half an hour, smashing my body until weeping with pain. My body's energy is all used up, with no food to revive me. Thinking of it, when was the last time I ate? I am so hungry. God, why did I have to think about food. My stomach churns with sickness. My wrist somewhat immobile and my shoulders shattered, I give up. Stalking towards the window, I shove my head out of the hole, taking care not to cut myself on the shards. I could easily jump out, but Mel was right, I wouldn't live to tell the ale. There isn't a tree nor a gutter to climb down.
I am trapped.
Why did they do this? I groan as I sink my head into the pillow on the bed. It's much more comfortable than the couch, and it will have to do for now. Closing my eyes, I shut out all the pain and worry.
September 17th, 7:53 pm,
Two days. Two whole days. That's how long it has been. I have counted every second, every hour. Pain. Utter confusion. Helplessness. My body started to conjure up the bruises almost instantly, and now they have deepened into dark purple circles coating my pale skin. The cold air from the windows only made me even colder; paler than before, causing them to protrude out of my flesh. There's no heat inside or out, only the duvet I snuggle into. My wrist is even more pained, getting larger by the hour as the swelling gets worse. Red. Swollen. Broken.
I am starving. Ravenous. Like a wild animal. I could eat anything. Anything. I haven't had a proper drink in days. I got lucky yesterday. It rained. A lot. Finding the nicest bottles from the floor, I collected the rainwater. I drank one in seconds, but managed to restrain myself from the other four. I knew I would need them later. And I did. Only one bottle lays next to me.
I look terrible. I can see myself in the shards. My body smells awful. Like roadkill. I would willingly eat that right now. Three days without food. I once read that you can survive twenty-one days without food, and only three without water. I sorted out my water, but unfortunately for me, there were no packets of food falling from the sky. I just hoped they wouldn't leave me here for much longer.
All of a sudden, I hear a loud crash, and footsteps heading toward me. I stumble up as fast as I can, which is slow. My body has shut down these past few days, using up what's left of my food supply. I can remember exactly what I last had. Pineapple pizza with Ashton. I remember everything. I had the time to remember, and I am guessing Necro only works part-time. I am weak, so I move towards the corner of the room, protecting myself as much as I can. My feelings are heightened to the max.
''Bella. . . We're back darling,'' I hear Liam's voice say. It is muffled through the wood. The lock clicks, and the door creaks as it is pushed open. My body jerks at his voice. The fire, the pain, it all comes back.
I am terrified.
They both enter at the same time, practically stumbling over each other in excitement. Straight away, Liam sets his gaze on me and heads over. I jerk away, trying to back away further into the wall. It doesn't work. I just trapped myself. Liam takes this opportunity, pushing his hands out and keeping me flush against the wall. I can't escape out of his grasp. My hands attempt to reach up and attack his face, but he has them pinned against my stomach. Bringing my knee up, I only hurt myself.
''You ready, darling?'' Liam questions, his free arm pressed against my chest.
''For what?'' I spit, clueless of his intentions.
''Your second dose.'' His voice is borderline demonic. I don't react, still struggling against his grasp. Shaking my head rapidly, he laughs, his chest vibrating against mine. Mel, pass me the needle,'' Liam utters, taking the hand against my chest and holding it out to his side. She pulls out the familiar syringe, placing it in his hand carefully. Holding it between our heads, he squeezes the pump, releasing a small spurt of the liquid out. He then brings it towards my neck, smiling as I wince. I would struggle, but I don't want the needle to tear me apart, so I stand still, accepting defeat. ''No doubt you probably remember everything that has happened to you. . . We need to keep you topped up. Once every day. We can't have you remembering again, can we?''
I wince as he pulls the needle out, returning it to Mel. She takes it, exchanging it for a second one. I gasp. ''Please, Liam, you don't need to do this.''
''Don't look so nervous. This one is going to make you feel so good.'' Placing the point in my vein. ''We just have a few things we need to do with you before we get you back home.'' I breathe, reassured that I will be going back.
''What?'' I ask, now struggling.
''Well, first we have to sort your wrist out. It clearly isn't healed, and we don't want you to remember Ash's name is on it.''
''We might even break it more,'' Mel laughs. I can't decide if she is serious.
My body stops struggling as I feel the liquid enter work its way around my blood. My bruises don't hurt much, nothing does. I can't even feel my legs. Hands grapple onto me, carrying me to the sofa. I hate this.
September 18th, 11:23 am,
Ash
5 days. 122 hours. That's how long Bella has been missing. 98 hours since the official declaration. I had to wait an excruciating 24 hours before she could actually be classed as missing. Wasted. 24 hours gone. The pain didn't get any less harsh, every second feels like my skin is exploding with emotion. I must have been around the whole county a hundred times searching for her. It was pointless. I knew she wouldn't be within a hundred-mile radius of here, but I checked anyway. Peter helped, as well as half the other police I forced into helping. This is way more important than a drug bust. Peter called every day to assure me that she would be found within the week. He told me to just get some sleep, she would be next to me in the morning.
She wasn't.
I didn't sleep.
My nights have been wholly sleepless. If I wasn't looking for Bella, I would be sat watching my phone, painfully waiting for a sign, a phone call. Anything. She didn't even bring her phone, so I had to hand it in as evidence, but I hoped I would get one from Liam. Mel never came back. I think he took them both.
I didn't care who called, I just needed to know she was okay.
I am alone now. Noah checks up on me every so often, but I shut him out, not letting him know how I am really feeling. He knows, though. I know he does. I am sat on my bed, eyes slowly drooping as they threaten to close. I have only got a few hours of sleep these past five days. By day three, I was already hallucinating her. Just when I thought she came back, she didn't. My head throbs. My bones ache. It's hell. It was just mental at first, but now it's physical too. My mind is screaming at me to go to sleep, but what if something happens whilst I am?
I don't want to find out.
Slowly, I sink back into my cushions, them softly supporting my neck. I know it's only morning, but my sleep schedule has dissipated into nothing. My eyelids close. I try so hard to force them open, but I can't. My body is failing. Thankfully, my phone lets out an ear-piercing ring. I jolt awake straight away, my hands grappling for the phone. I widen my eyes to make out the name Peter on the screen. I falter. It could either be his daily call, or actual news. Pressing the answer button, I push the phone against my ear. ''Hi, Ash. We are going to check out the house.'' The house? Peter coughs. ''Liam's. It's the only place I can think she would be. It would be the last place I would check, it would make sense for her to be there.''
''Peter, I already checked,'' I breathe, pulling a hand up to my forehead. Pointless.
''I know, but it never hurt to check twice.''
It was the first place I went. I called her name; crawled through the pile of ash and rubble, hoping she would be there. She wasn't. ''Yeah, fine. I'll be at the station in 15.'' Ending the call, I jump off the bed. Throwing on a jumper, towards the door. A small piece of paper meets my eyes. Picking it up in a hurry, I read the contents.
My old house, you'll find her body there.
Fuck. The guys in the living room stare as I race down the stairs. I take no notice, slamming the door behind me and jump on my bike. It's a 25-minute drive to the station, but my agreement was 15 minutes. I will not be a second late. I could easily just drive to the house, but I don't. Peter would arrest me for speeding.
On arrival, I greet Peter and hop into the front. I am on edge the whole journey. The drive is silent and long. I don't bother telling him about the note. The only noise playing is Peter's radio going off every second. I don't understand a word they say, the numbers they talk about make no sense. A full-grown adult wouldn't even be able to understand. It's a good idea, though. Keep the work private.
''We are here,'' Peter declares as we pull into the once-driveway. There is no-one else with us. Just me and Peter. I'd like to keep it that way
We arrive soon after, hopping out of the car and slamming our doors. There is no one else with us, just I and Peter, and I'd like to keep it that way. Walking straight to the house, I push open the shattered door and enter the remains. Joining in the search, we hunt through the downstairs. My heart drops when we don't find her. She has to be upstairs. ''Watch the stairs,'' Peter announces as I step onto the broken planks. The building is exactly as I remember. It's worse in the day, light. I can see all the damage. I don't even know how part of the second floor is still intact. I don't even bother walking towards the master bedroom, that half of the hallway has collapsed onto the ground floor. We have to watch where we step. One wrong move. . . well, that's the end of us. It's a massive threat to us even being here, but if it means finding Bella, I would do anything.
This is the only place Bella could be. The room I first found her in. Unless the note was a joke. Stepping inside, my eyes ping onto her delicate face. Her features are soft, blue eyes closed, and beautiful blonde hair trailing down her shoulders. I want to cry, relief washing over me. The note said her body. Not her. Racing over to her, I jab my fingers against her neck. A pulse. A beat. Anything. I remember the first time I did this. She moved my hand up to the 'correct place' as she called it. Following her actions, I find the rhythm. Her skin is cold to the touch. Paler than usual. Bruises coat her shoulders and are scattered along her arms and hands. He did this to her. She is only wearing one of my black t-shirts, she must be frozen. Removing my jumper, I place it on her fragile body, moving it carefully over her arms and cast. She doesn't know.
Her eyes are closed. She looks as though she is just sleeping, but I can't be certain. Peter — following closely behind me — notifies the radio people, coming beside me to see if she needs medical attention.
I have no words to describe how I feel. All I can say is that I am never letting her go again.
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