I opened my eyes to see white dots as they slowly drifted down from the dark and clouded sky that had been hovering above me for that entire week. They were cold, but gentle as they slowly fell from the heavens and onto my skin. I began to feel a bit too chilled, so I stood up and started to walking home the four blocks down 16th and Carter towards my home. The snow was only about a quarter of an inch deep, so it wasn’t that difficult to walk in thankfully; considering I had made the brave choice to wear sneakers that day.
As I’m walking I find myself caught in a battle between the cold air and each step I take as it berates me and howls at me to get back. The snow begins to fall quicker and as it does the world seems to have slowed down and even the wind that had been such a great advisary seems to have tapped out of the great battle. It’s a wonder that something such a snow, a thing I must’ve seen nearly a million times has baffled me with its beauty once again.
It’s nice to be able to admire the world in this way, it’s been such a long time since I’ve had any free time for myself. Outside of school, I have two part time jobs to help my mom out with the bills. I wish I didn’t need to work so hard, but how can I not when I see how much she struggles to put food on the table. It’s been just the two of us for as long as I can remember. If I can contribute even a little, and relieve her of some of that burden I’d be grateful.
I was about two blocks from my house when it happened. As I passed the Night Hawks Café, I faintly heard a strange, but familiar tune being carried by the wind and then everything went black. The last thing I remember was sinking into a slumber as the tune echoed through my mind...
“At the end of this life, at the end of this day What’s there left to do
Oh, what’s there left to say; and Is there no Was there not a better way, at the end of this life, of this day.”
When I woke up I was tied to a bed frame standing up, it must’ve somehow been bolted up against the wall because it wouldn’t even wobble when I began to struggle, trying to wriggle free from the ropes around my wrists and ankles, but in the end my struggle was to no avail. The more I pulled the tighter the ropes became. The room I was in had a single light bulb dangling from the vaulted ceiling, and a tiny stained-glass window; from which light would shine through. It seemed to be an attic...
She walked into the room, she was a tall petite, seemingly young in her late 20’s if I were to guess, with curly red hair and brown eyes. She walked over to me and smiled as she grabbed my chin and tilted my face side to side; as if she were examining me. I yanked my head back and yelled “Who are you, why are you doing this to me?”, but she only smiled at me before pulling a syringe out of her pocket, yanking the cap off before injecting me with it. It was some type a muscle relaxing paralyzing drug because it left me fully conscious, but I couldn’t move a muscle. The lady then walked over to a trunk across the room. From the trunk she pulled out some knives, a barbed whip, a handful a metal devices that I didn’t recognize -but she slowly taught me what each one of them did- and a handful of acupuncture needles, setting them down on a table across the room. She grabbed a weird device that looked similar to a pair of plyers and walked over to me. Grabbing my wrist she began to rip out my nails, I could feel the tears running down my face as I internally screamed for her to stop. I could only watch helplessly as each of my nails were one by one slowly bent backwards and peeled from each finger. After she finished with my nails she went back to the bench and grabbed the knife and began to make shallow cuts all over my body she would count out loud each cut she made in a loud and sweet voice. “73, 74, 75.... “eventually I passed out from the pain.
I was woken up to a bucket of water being poured on me, I still couldn’t move my body. The lady smiled as she walked over, stood by me, and played a video about me from the local news network WOW.J. Omaha on her phone.
“17 year old Elizabeth Morelli, went missing last Friday night, three days have past since then. Police suspect that Elizabeth is a runaway and if seen you should contact the police.”
That was the beginning of my hell, every day the lady would return and practice new ways to torture me. Wednesdays were for waterboarding, she’d jokingly say. It wasn’t until months later that she killed me, and by then I yearned for it, for death, for an end to the pain. However, as luck would have it I didn’t stay dead I came back, but I wasn’t me anymore... I was in someone else’s body, so in a way I guess I did die. I’m not quite sure how this happened, but one moment I was gasping for air as warm blood began to pool around me and the next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed, in a unfamiliar body, and surrounded by unfamiliar people. The sound of that strange song once again reverberating through my mind...