Gasping, pleading, running, screaming!
As soft as butterfly wings, the eyelashes upon my eyes caressed the tops of my boney cheeks while in a slow, fluttered motion, my eyes opened. I knew death had failed me, for I could feel the beating of my own heart against my sore and aching ribs. That realization alone was depressing enough to want me to die more, I mean, it wasn't like I was some saint that deserved to live. I've cussed more than a sailor, drank as if I was an alcoholic, and oh, I was angry. Wrath seemed to be the only thing I felt these days. Besides pain, of course, but the pain I felt was only fueling the wrath within me like a fire that was too strong to be put out. I suppose the only thing I did right was save my virginity for marriage and serve God for twenty-one years. But those days were long gone, seven-hundred-and-thirty to be exact.
Why would I still serve a God who took everything from me? He stripped me of everyone and everything that loved me and left me to die emotionally as if I meant nothing to Him! He abandoned me when I needed Him the most, even though my heart was once placed upon His hands. And yet, He treated me as if I never meant anything to Him. He left me to drown in my own pain, and so like He did to me, I turned my back on Him.
My mind was screaming at me that I was in some kind of dangerous situation, and it was showing me image after image of the things it had recorded. But truthfully, I didn't care, for I wanted to die as much as a single woman wanted to be married. It didn't matter how I died. Truly, I just wanted to be it. Like a teenager trying to get their first taste of beer, I wanted death like it was my last breath, for it was the only thing that clouded my mind these days. It was my first thought in the morning and the last thought before my head hit the pillow at night. Yet it avoided me and denied me the taste of it's everlasting freedom.
I was angry with it as well.
I sighed and weakly lifted my hands to brush the loose strands of hair away from the dampness in which was forming along the skin of my forehead. But as I did so, my eyes were drawn to the strands for they had changed. Their once lively caramel brown complexion has now taken on the form of discoloration and a filthy texture. I cringed at the mere sight of my hair for it truly didn't even appear to be human hair at the moment, no, instead it looked rather fit to be the fur of a filthy animal in the forest. It currently housed sand and leaves. It truly appeared as if a cat had been sucking on my hair.
Nevertheless, I had no strength to deal with it, so I simply flicked the hair over my shoulder and glanced around the strange room. It was small, and I suppose it would only take about fifteen steps to reach each one of the four walls. The ceiling was high and was made of steel which I found odd for a room, but I shrugged it off and allowed my eyes to dance around the room some more, taking in the concrete floor and tall wooden door that could only be opened from the outside but as if luck was on my side, it was cracked open and the early morning light shined through like a beacon of hope.
What a rare occasion.
As if I was being dragged from the bed by an unknown force, I felt deep within me the push of strength that I needed to escape this room. However, the idea was easier than the action for as I shoved the blankets made from animal fur off me and attempted to stand from the bed, my knees buckled and I fell to the dirty ground with a yelp of both surprise and pain for I was not shocked that the action happened because if I had just tuned out my racing thoughts then I would've realized that there was not an inch of my body that was not in pain. But I didn't have time to chasten my mind for distracting me as the sight of my bare thighs made my eyes widen and breathing come to an abrupt stop.
What the actual heck?!
Seeing my own pale skin bare before my eyes wasn't unfamiliar to me, but it was the fact that even though I member faint memories of two brooding men speaking to me, I did not remember at any point taking my gold dress off. As my eyes drifted slowly up my body, I froze as the sight of a large red flannel cloaked the upper half of my body from view, it did a nice job of hiding my lower body as well. But it appeared to have pooled around my waist in my fall.
Against my will, I had no time to spare to panic over my exposed body for the mere smell of it had me turning both my head and eyes away from the sight of it for the smell in which was flowing off the shirt did not smell like pollen in the early months of summer. No, it smelt as if a cave man who lived in the woods and who hadn't showered in years was the owner of the shirt.
Oh, the smell could kill knee-high cotton and knock a buzzard off a gut wagon!
I was pulled from the smelly trance the shirt held me in and groaned as I forced myself back onto my feet. I could feel my bones cracking, and the skin around my ribs felt itchy, as if the skin was sewed together, but I knew it was pointless to check, for there was nothing there. Those guys, whoever they may be were just being nice, they probably found me wandering around the lake and discovered I was half-intoxicated, so they did the gentlemen like thing and brought me back to their house to sleep off the wine. Yes, this is just some situation that is probably going to turn out to be a misunderstanding, and soon enough, I'll be on a plane back to Texas, and this will all just be faint memories. Embarrassing memories, but memories at that. But even I doubted those thoughts as panic began to raise within me like the wind and water were racing one another.
Mumbling underneath my breath, I remind myself that this is not the time to decide to become some sissy without a backbone, no, I need to put my big girl panties on and stop being dramatic, if I wanted to be dramatic then I could take up acting lessons later on, but this was not the time to start rehearsing. I pushed myself closer to the door, while every part of my body was moaning in pain, but I forced my mind to tune it out and to focus on the door for my pain was not going to let me out of this cobweb infested room, only the door was.
With each step I took, it felt as if my legs were going to crumble beneath me, and I wondered just what I did to feel this much pain. My memory was spotty, and as I could remember certain details, others were still blurry, I could only blame that on the bottle of bourbon I chose to drown myself in. I didn't even want to imagine what Aunt Joe would say about my new lifestyle, I knew she would be scolding me about how I should be drinking more water and less bourbon. I rolled my eyes at that thought, for I'll drink more water as long as it's frozen and surrounded by bourbon. Plus, it didn't matter anymore what Aunt Joe felt or yet alone thought, for time stole her away me nearly two decades ago. Why worry about what the dead thinks of you when they couldn't even stick around to love you a little longer?
People who die are truly selfish. They don't even allow us to have a say in the manner. They simply pack up their souls and leave with our hearts...
Unladylike groans and gruffs escaped from my lips as I stumbled like a drunken sailor across the room, leaving footprints in the dust in which lays upon the floor, like a cloak shielding it's true complexion from my eyes. Shoving the door open, my body fell forward, causing me to stumble into the bright light of the sun. Air filled with the scents of fresh apples and Autumn leaves filled my dry lungs and through the burning light of the sun, I caught sight of a tall red barn with white trim in which stood proudly only a short distance away. However, it appeared to have seen better years for the paint was chipping away due to the harsh elements. Like a fishermen's net, I cast my eyes further, past the barn, and caught sight of the silhouette of a two-story log cabin. It nearly was an enter high school football field away, and I wondered why the men left me here, in some old shied instead of in the comfort of their home.
I sighed and shook my head for I knew it would be rude of me to ask such a question, it was nice enough of them to bring me here at all for they could've just simply looked away from a drunken woman. But they didn't, and they somehow found it in their hearts to help me and that is enough to make up for sticking me in a shied like a hound dog who didn't kill the fox who robbed the hen house.
As my eyes drifted to the right, the view before me was four-rows of apple trees. It appeared to be a small apple orchard. While as I turned my head to the left, I was met with the view of a large pastor that hosted many horses of various coats and heights. The pastor was so vast that I could not make out where it ended. It was filled with lush green grass, and the fence was painted a snowball white, but it was in the same shape as the barn was, the paint defiantly had seen better days.
Heck, it probably has seen better years.
Ignoring all the man-made things, and truly only taking in what God created, this place was beautiful and if I was in a different position than the one, I am currently in, then I might even have asked for a tour of the place, but as I am half-dress and in so much pain, I simply just want to get my clothes back, say a quick thank-you, and then empty half of a bottle of Tylenol and forget this ever happened.
Like a zombie, I stumbled away from the shied while my feet dragged against the ground as I found it too strength consuming to lift my feet with every step. Truly walking was over-rated, and I pondered if it should be added to the list of things I hate. Sighing, I shook my head and focused back on the task at hand, which is finding those brooding men and demanding to know just to what happened last night.
With which step I took, it felt as if I walked a hundred, and by the time I made it to the back of the barn, I was breathless and panting. Leaning one shoulder against the tall outer wall of the barn, I once more glanced around to see if there was anyone in sight, and to my dismay, there was not even a sound. It was eerily quiet, like in a horror movie where something truly bad is about to happen, but the main character doesn't even have the faintest idea of their ending future. But I knew that was a foolish thought for things like horror movies don't happen to real people, trust me I know, I spent eight years writing fiction, it was my life. When you have a job creating outrageous story lines, the mere thought of them coming to life is nothing more than a laughable and unbelievable theory. But that's all it is, a theory saved for books and movies, but nothing could ever come true.
Besides a heartbreak, now that is something no book or movie could ever truly get right...
My eyes pulled me from my never-ending thoughts as I catch sight of smoke evacuating from a tall, red brick chimney that is connected to the log cabin, the mere sight of it made me crave to be in the cabin for the air was crisp and with winter not far around the corner, I knew there was no hope of the weather getting warmer, only colder. Like tiny sewing needles pricking my skin, goose bumps formed along my skin and from my spine vibrated shivers from the harsh chill in the air that even though the thickness of the flannel still chilled me to my bones.
With my teeth chattering, head throbbing, and ribs moaning in pain, I forced myself to push off the barn and to continue on against my body's wishes. With one hand on the barn and my bare feet against the lush green grass, I walked alongside the barn wall until it came to an end. My eyes drifted to the right of me, and I was met with a thick tree line that was the entrance into an autumn forest. With a sigh I knew going in there in my current state would be a death sentence, and at the moment I would be a nice juicy snack for a pack of wolves, and with my luck, a big bear.
However, that could be my free ticket to freedom... no, I was too salty for any creature's taste. They would spite me out and run away screaming.
Lacing my spare arm around my ribs to try and ease the pain, I turned my head to the left and was thankfully met with the sight of the entrance into the barn. The large sliding barn doors were pushed to the side, and the sounds of hay being ruffled around filled my ears. I knew there must at least be someone in there, and where there are people, there is help.
For the most part.
Groaning once more I forced my pain riddled body to hobble into the barn, truly I felt as I was aging and instead of being an exuberance twenty-three-year-old, I felt as if I was pushing one hundred with every bone in my body creaking like an old house.
The barn was littered with hay scattered on the dirt floor and chickens, pigs, and even a donkey wandered around freely without a care in the world. I wobbled further into the barn and was surprised to see hay bales stacked neatly lining most of the walls on either side of me. However, the further I dragged myself into the dimly lit barn, the view of serval empty horse stalls came into view as well as the figure of a tall man with coffee black hair that was filled with tiny curls. His back was to me, while he was angrily using a pitchfork to shovel fresh hay into one of the horse stalls.
From his hair alone, I knew he wasn't either of the men who I saw last night, confused my eyes dragged down his form, and I was amazed by his physique. He was built like a gladiator from ancient times, for his body was the home of many tight and well-built muscles that my eyes could make out even through the white shirt he wore. The man, whoever he is, was not as nearly tall as the man who was referred to as Malachi, but this new man must be only an inch shorter. More shivers ran throughout my body, for this was the type of man you didn't want to run into in a darkened parking lot. Being alone with him now arose feelings of fright from within me that I haven't felt sense I left foster care.
Forcing a breath into my dry lungs, I bit my lower lip and forced words out of my mouth before I could allow fear to control me, "Umm, excuse me, Minster? But I'm as ill as a hornet, and if you would just, please point me in the direction of my clothes that would be mighty kind of ya."
As the wind carried my words to the man, he didn't even flinch or act surprised as if he already knew I was in the barn with him. However, his knuckles turned white as his grip on the pitchfork tightened while he roughly threw more hay into the stall.
"We burned them." He mumbled through gritted teeth.
The moon and sun could not compare to the size of my eyes as they widen and just as my mouth nearly fell open from shock once more words escaped from my tongue, "Well why on earth would you do that?!" As my voice raised, I held in a moan of misery as the mere action caused burning like pain to shoot from one rib to the other and I wondered if perhaps I had broken one or two in my night of mystery filled events.
"Because they were soaked with blood...it wasn't even your coat." He shook his head as if he could not understand my confusion.
However, like rockets being shipped off to the moon, my eyebrows shot up, and I nearly screeched, "What is going on?!" I hollered like a cat fleeing from a bath.
Before the man could answer, another creature did for him...
A deep growl echoed throughout the barn, and my body was consumed with fear.