Page 121 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

He smiles back shyly. “You’re not lying?”

“No. I can take whatever you carry.” I pull him with me, and suddenly, the darkness blows to the side and we are standing in a sparse forest between spruces and birches. The sky is bright blue, northern-sky blue, without a single cloud.

We’re still holding hands. A mild breeze ruffles my hair. I look down at the boy and see a smile. I can feel it on my face. It is not an echo or a reflection. It is my own. Carefully, I take the boy into my arms and hold him tight.

And his body becomes my body and I feel myself being held. By Lou. And by myself. I am the boy and the boy is me.

“I won’t leave you, Bren,” I hear Lou whisper against my chest.

“You’re crazy.” I feel dizzy, not just from her words, but because it suddenly feels like my memories mingle with the boy’s. I’m realizing again how dangerous it is for Lou to be here with me. I try to free my arms from her grip, but Lou resists.

“You can hit and kick me in your madness, but I won’t go. You can push me away, but I’m staying,” she says with grim determination, purposefully wrapping her arms even tighter around my waist.

“I can’t let that happen,” I choke out.

“You have no choice. You said I was merely pretending, but that’s not true. I love you.”

I groan. Now is definitely not the best time to talk about it since the flash isn’t over.

As gently as I can, I take Lou’s head in my hands. “I know, Lou,” I whisper. “I know.” I gently stroke her cheeks and they get wet from the blood on my hands and her tears. “I honestly was considering letting you go. Deep down, I was probably searching for a reason not to. At that moment, I wanted to believe you were playing me the entire time. I wanted to be mad at you.”

She laughs and cries at the same time. Crazy. How is this supposed to work?

“Hey, Lou, don’t cry,” I scold affectionately. “Shh. All is well. I’m sorry for what I said.” The feeling of foreign images in me intensifies and sends a chill through my limbs. Something is happening to me, but I don’t know what. I quickly free myself from Lou’s arms. “You have to go, quick!”

“No, I’m staying!” Lou says without taking her eyes off me. “And the next time you’re in that place you dread, imagine if I were there, too.”

“Lou…” Sweat pools on the back of my neck. I want to tell her it’s a bad idea because I don’t know how it will be this time, but she’s faster.

“Please do it! Just try it!”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if I attack you?” My body trembles as if electrified.

“I’ll stay anyway.”

When did she wrap her arms around me again? I have no idea. Suddenly, it feels like I’m standing at the bottom of a well. Something rushes toward me from above. A flood. Images race through my mind in quick succession. A chocolate-covered birthday cake with three white candles, blue pirate balloons on the ceiling and confetti on the table. “Blow them out and make a wish,” I hear my mom say happily. Her cheeks are flushed, but her right eye is bloodshot and swollen. I puff out my cheeks and blow, and hot wax squirts onto the paper tablecloth. Smoke rises. “Hey, that was great, Brenny. All three in one go!” My mom laughs and wraps her arms around me and lifts me up. I inhale her scent. Vanilla lemon. “And your wish?” she asks in a whisper. “I want to get away from him. With you, away from him,” I whisper back.

The memory fades. Other pictures follow. My mom’s gone, I’m in someone else’s house, in a shabby kitchen made of patchwork cupboards. Everything is unfamiliar, dark, and eerie. Before my feet is a lake of spilled milk. The man Mom called my daddy approaches me with a wide leather belt. The corners of his mouth turn down, his eyes narrow like sickles. I sense the danger, run away, and crouch in a corner, but it’s in vain. His hatred rains down on me. The leather hisses through the air, exploding with a smack against my skin. The burning is all-encompassing, blinding me. The man yells that my mom left me because she didn’t want a shit like me for a son. That burns even harder than the leather. Pain shoots up behind my eyes, into every cell of my body.

My torso convulses under the weight of the memory. I don’t want to feel this. Red mist fills my head.

“Scream already!” I hear Lou whisper piercingly. “Just scream, no one can hear you. Just me. And I can take it. I’ll stick around.”

More images fill me.

I lie in the dark, hands braced against the thick wood, but I can’t get at the six clasps. My upper arm muscles are burning. “Mom!” I scream in my head. “Mom! Come back!” My fear is mixed with blazing pain. “Why did you leave? Why did you leave me behind? I wanted to go with you. I wished for it!” Nothing happens. Everything remains quiet. So quiet. Even my own heart grows as quiet as the dark. I can’t take it. The pain is so great. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, Mom, it’s so dark.

Seconds tick by. Minutes. My fingernails are wet, probably bleeding from trying to scratch a hole in the lid. But that’s useless. Everything hurts. My broken skin is blazing from the beatings, on my back, stomach, arms, and legs. I feel a pang of thirst and the deafening noise of silence. Hunger eats away at my stomach and my pants are cold and stiff. Someone is crying. Suddenly, the lid opens and it gets so bright, it’s like I’m standing in heaven with a thousand angels.

But only he is there.

He pulls me out of the box and throws me to the ground.

“You’re crying.”

“N-no, sir…” But I am crying.

“I should kill you,” he hisses horribly. He bends down, grabs my throat, and slams me against the basement wall.

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