Crazy

Specks of light and colour splash in my eyes as I try to peer through the thick blindfold. I try to thrash about in the chair I'm tied to, wishing I could just get up and run away from whatever it is that's going to happen to me. I sit still for a moment, trying to quiet my heaving breaths, trying to pick up any hints of sound that might float in the air somehow. I hear nothing, save the pounding of my own heart. I try to scream in rage but come up with only a slight squeal. Stupid gag in my mouth is nearly choking me! Who did this to me? What do they want?

I remember lying in bed, trying to finish a book. Just one more page to go...and suddenly I'm very sleepy. The words blur and I just feel like collapsing. In fact, I think I did collapse then. But now I'm wide awake, and it all seems so odd, as if I had been poisoned or something. Who would want to do this to me, and why? I know not everyone likes me, but hey, no one can please everyone. As far as I know, I don't have any serious enemies.

Didn't have, I think pointedly to myself. Apparently I do now, for what reason I'll never know! What I do know is that I had just better find out, and soon, because I have no idea what'll happen if I don't!

"What should we do with her?" My head snaps up at the sound of the tiny, menacing voice that has drifted in so suddenly and unexpectedly. I strain to hear more, but the voices are faint, like whoever it was is walking away. I groan. They must've done that on purpose. The suspense is driving me crazy! Then again, maybe it's better to be feeling the suspense than to be wishing I didn't know...

Hours have gone by since I heard that voice, maybe even days. Well, I'm sure hours have passed, though maybe it's just that feeling everyone talks about where every minute turns into an hour...I wrack my brain trying to find a way to figure it all out, but I get no where except frustrated. And insane! Honestly, I can't stand not being able to see where I am, who I'm with, what's around me. I'm tied to a chair and my arms hurt because I've kept them pinned by my sides too long. I'm nearly wild from the pain! And I'm hungry...my stomach is growling. It's the only sound that interrupts the silence that reaches from hour to hour. Man, I hate that silence. But I hate my stupid stomach even more for interrupting it! I want to make it all stop! And I can't even move. I groan, and the sound fills the air, lingers in my mind, sings a mournful song. It echoes through my head, over and over. "Stop it!" I try to scream to the unending chant, but it comes out too muffled to be understood. A throb of dryness pulses through my mouth, down my throat, into my stomach. It resonates through my whole body. It's definitely been more than just hours. Pain. Thirst. Hunger. Silence. Voices. Nothing to keep me company but my own thoughts. I can't take it! I feel myself shutting down, letting go of something. I am slowly drifting away.

Time no more exists. I hang my head, drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness. A voice has been coming and going every once in a while. Was it real? Or did I just imagine it? Maybe both. It uttered unearthly things, sayings that struck fear into me. But now, I barely hear it. I notice nothing. I hear it, but I can't listen. I'm going crazy, a small voice inside me says quietly. But already I'm fading away. It's all fuzz. The conscious me is disappearing.

"Wake up. Come on, wake up already! Yoo hoo, hello. Somebody, please, tell me, what should I do?" Somewhere in this sea of fuzz that doesn't make sense, this little bit from the real world sinks in, slowly, little by little. But like everything else, it too disappears.

Movement. Motion. I'm moving, going somewhere, held tight by someone. Like a cocoon. Wrapped up. Protected. Sleep, hazy sleep, catches up to me again. Peace.

Something hot touches me, tingles my lip. I moan soft and low. What does it mean? What am I, a honeycomb floating all day long? That's how I feel. The hot liquid has a sweet flavour. It sails down my throat. I tip my head back and moan again, relaxed. Someone groans, and I follow. A symphony. That's what I am, a part of a symphony. The heat sinks deeper into me. Is it a key to my soul? Then let it free, please. I sigh, and something wet dribbles out of my mouth. My weary body goes limp. Sleep is again claiming my wild mind.

Something is changing, awakening in me. I don't know what it is...

I sense this again and again.

And again.

Motion is not normally tangible. But at this moment, it is. Must have been hours since we stopped...but how should I know? Didn't I lose time back in that room, or whatever it was? Something is different now; I'm far more aware than I was before.

I lie still in someone's arms, soaking in the slow, methodical movement. Where are we going?

Something in my mind is waking up. I am no longer tied stiffly to a chair. The gag is gone. I feel a dull pain in my throat and a hollow feeling in my stomach, and recognize it to be hunger and thirst. I moan softly and hear a responding sigh. I no longer think of it as symphony. Now it has a real meaning.

"Water, please," I whisper hoarsely. "I'm so thirsty."

The motion stops so suddenly that I'm afraid I'm going to fall. I open my eyes in fear of what I'm going to see. I see a man's wide eyes staring down at me.

"Oh!" he exclaims, and bends down, setting me gently on the ground. He pours something yellowish-green from a thermos into a Styrofoam cup. "Sorry, but I only have tea."

The minty aroma fills the air. I try to drink, but my parched lips, mouth, and throat throb with a burning pain. I wince with the pained effort of swallowing, wanting to drink it all at once but barely able to take a sip. He watches me, his face long and unsmiling.

"Are you okay?" he whispers. I wonder if there was really a twinge of guilt in his voice, or did I just imagine it? I stare into his deep brown eyes, and smile a little.

"I think so. I'm not sure yet." I frown, my whole face contorting with confusion. "What happened?"

In the dim light I can't tell if his cheeks really redden, but it seems that way. "Umm... Well... You see..."  His face twists as he tries to find the right words, but finally he says and relaxes into a look of defeat.  "Honestly," he finally continues, "I'm not entirely sure myself."  He hesitates for a moment more.

"Me and Jim, my..." He pauses, searching for the right word. "Not friend...accomplice, I guess. Well, more like an employer. Now I guess I should call him my enemy." I frown but say nothing, and he continues. "Anyway, we were talking one day, and he told me that he had a job for me. Wouldn't tell me what, but it paid good, and I had, at that time, nothing to loose and no reason to care. So, I took the job." Here he pauses again, seemingly troubled.

"I didn't - and still don't - know what he was really trying to do. But after we kidnapped you, he told me not to bother to bring you any food or drinks. I didn't understand, but kept silent anyway. After several days, I could tell that his plan was drawing to a close. I didn't know what he was going to do or why, but I was sure that he either wanted to watch you die or wanted to watch you go crazy. Maybe both. And I was afraid he had nearly succeeded already! I realized that if he was going to do anything else, he was going to do it right away. I knew that had to act before he did."

I don't know what to say to that, and we descend back into silence for a few minutes.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

He looks up at me with a deep look of concern and quickly replies, "To the nearest town or city and straight to the hospital. But we'd better hurry, because Jim is probably close behind."  Looking down, he shakes his head.  "Who knows what a sick person like that might do."

I hand him my empty cup and try to stand up. He watches closely. My mind apparently isn't fully functioning yet, and I can't seem to get my legs to do anything I ask them to. A numb pain shoots up my left leg and it gives way, toppling me to the ground painfully. I groan and start to cry, a quiet cry in an almost silent forest. He picks me up gently and cradles me securely in his arms. "I'm so sorry," he whispers softly.  I let my body relax, again enjoying the rhythm of his walk. I wait for sleep to come as it has so many times before, but it doesn't. Instead I stay awake, listening with closed eyes to the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, and his steady, strong footsteps. I open my eyes and watch the never-ending twinkle of the night stars, glad to once again be able to appreciate them.

After a while he looks down at me. I turn my head a little and smile for him.

"How're you doing," he asks solemnly. I try to give him the "thumbs-up", but my movements are clumsy. He offers me a smile just as forced, and I feel a little better. Eventually my breathing steadies and my eyes close.

I yawn and roll over, then open my eyes. Where am I? My face is buried into a soft, warm pillow, and my arms cling to a thin white blanket.

The air smells sterile, and the only noises are too faint for me to understand. I roll over onto my back and turn my head around, surveying the room. There's not much to see. A small white night-table sits to my left. To my right is an IV machine. I follow the long spindly cords with my gaze and see them reaching out to my hand where the clear liquid drips into my veins. I look back at the night-table and see a little piece of paper resting on it. I slowly pull and prop myself up until I'm sitting almost comfortably. I pick up the note and read it, struggling to make my eyes focus.

I'm so sorry for what we did - what I did. I wish I had acted sooner. Actually, I wish I hadn't been a part of it in the first place. I'm with the police. I turned myself in and the lawyer I found said they may go easy on me, but either way I don't think their justice will be enough to make up for what happened. The thing is, my life was just so empty before.  I didn't care about anything, I had no reason to care. But watching you suffer and knowing you were scared and in pain, for the first time in my life, I cared what happened to someone.  And now I can't stop feeling guilty; I can't stop caring. My only hope is that you are able to move on from all of this and get your life back. I know my life will never be the same.  I can never erase this; but I hope that you can. These few days mean nothing compared to the days and years you enjoyed before, and many years to come. So forget about me, forget about Jim, forget about these few short days and move on. Please.

Max

I stare at the note for a long minute and just let everything sink in. All the thoughts and feelings that were so locked up before pounce on me with a force I would never have imagined. The surreal feeling of the last few days, the shock of having my life change so suddenly, fear, confusion - they consume me all at once. I close my eyes helplessly and shake with quiet sobs, my chest heaving, my fists covering my eyes, the corner of the paper gripped in my hand. I sit here like this until my heaving slows and I can think again. And as my mind clears I realize that Max is right.  What was done to me will never go away, but it doesn't have to matter if I don't let it.  I look at the words again.  Memories float into my mind, soft, gentle memories.  I see the deep, caring concern in his eyes when he looked at me; I hear the sincerity in his voice as he whispered, "I'm so sorry." My eyes close for a moment and I can almost feel the methodical movement of his steps as he tenderly cradled me in his strong arms.  I open my eyes and smile a little as I realize that, strange as it may be, I miss him.

Yes, I will be okay, but I will not forget about him.  And I will not move on. For it is here that my story is really just beginning...