Sorry it took me so long to update! I meant to post this yesterday. So as an apology this chapter is a lot longer than the first two.
Normal disclaimers. If you don't them by now, then go look at the previous chapters.
The days past quickly, Dani and her guest spending the days not leaving the shack; in fact, the guest never got off her cot, much to her dismay. Dani was able to find different books for the woman to read, most of them included information about a collection of cultures, generally Native American. Of course, it took her about two days to go through all of these books. Most of the information was familiar to her, though she wouldn't admit it to Dani. Dani often mentioned that she should try to relax; maybe even take a nap since she was recovering, both physically and her past. But she grew tired of that rather quickly.
So far, no new information about her current life or the man with warm eyes had floated through her mind. But did not mean she hadn't remembered several things over the past few days. The second memory she remembered was her being enclosed in a dark place that she couldn't escape from.
She was alone and afraid. Her body was shaking violently, and the usually strong female was letting tears fall at a rapid rate. It wasn't that she was claustrophobic, but being trapped for hours at a time in this small of an area was unnerving.
It was a rough material under her. Actually, it surrounded her. And the space was in was too small for her; she shouldn't have been able to fit in the enclosed area, at all, but had been forced in. Her legs were aching to be stretched, but there was no room for her to move. Her throat felt as though she had not had anything to drink for a while, and it had been even longer since she had eaten. She had barely gotten home from school and begun her chores before she had… She must have been here for a several hours.
When they had first dragged her she had been screaming, "I'm sorry! It was an accident, I swear!" It was a challenge trying to keep the tears and terror out of her voice. They had warned her of the punishment, but she didn't think they would seriously do it. It was a barbaric concept to punish a teenager- anyone- like that. But they did, and were planning on leaving her in here for God knows how long.
She had cried out for help for a while, but decided that her captures weren't going to take pity on her so soon. She spent the next several hours listening for any sign of someone coming to release her, and eventually fell into a restless sleep. When she woke, she began to push against the top of her container to see if she was free from this torturous imprisonment yet. The ceiling would move a little, but it never broke open. After what seemed like hours of pushing against her roof with no luck, she surrendered.
She began praying to God, but here prayers were not answered. No one came to her rescue as she pleaded. As each moment passed, her already feeble faith began to dwindle away. What type of god would let people who have already lost everything suffer even more and give them no way to escape the torture?
"Please. I didn't mean to drop the dish! I'll pay for it! I'll do anything, but please let me out." She tried yelling, again. She was pretty sure a day had passed, since the little light she had available had already gone dark and was now returning. She continued to scream similar messages, hoping her captures would show her mercy and let her go. She wasn't sure if she could afford to miss any school, since she was new to the area and had started late in the semester. "It was just a dish; I'll work to replace it. It won't ever happen again! I swear! Please, let me out!" But eventually her voice became too raw, and her shouts for help became whimpers.
"Please," she quietly cried. "I just want out."
She had woken up with fear and anxiety after that; what type of horrible childhood did she have, where she was locked away against her will? Had no one been worried about her then? No one had noticed that she was missing? She began to wonder if someone would be missing her now. Of course, the brown-eyed man came to mind. He must be looking for her; he had already saved her once. He meant something to her, (he had been a major component of her first dream) so it would be logical for her to mean something to him.
The night after that brought back a much more relaxing memory.
She was in a field, and by the looks of the few trees around it was late fall. Looking around, she saw a couple, mid-thirties, sitting and talking about ten meters away. They were sitting on a blanket, removing food from a picnic basket, and apparently having a very intense conversation. She instinctively knew they were fighting and that it was not a good sign. She wanted to hear what they were saying, but was too far away. She did however hear someone approaching her from behind.
"Marco," he said, and she jumped and turned around. A college age boy in a leather jacket was standing in front of her now, with a football in his hand.
"Polo," she said, feeling a smile stretch across her face. She felt comfortable with this guy.
"What are you looking at?"
"Mom and Dad. They look like they're fighting."
"Mom and Dad never fight."
"I know," she said quietly.
"You're imagining things. They're probably talking about Thanksgiving or something."
"I don't know. Dad looks really unhappy."
"It's probably nothing. Relax."
It was then their mother turned and looked up at them. "Are you guys going to eat or just stand there all day?" she called out. The brother and sister ran towards them. Her mom was wearing a dolphin belt that both she and her daughter adored. Both the teenagers sat down, her brother dropping the football.
"Drinks are in the car," their father informed them.
"I'll go get them," the daughter said.
"No, we'll go," the mother said, as she and the father stood up.
"We don't want any beers to go missing," their father said, clearly in the direction of his son.
"Come on, Dad. I'm nineteen."
"You're not legally allowed to drink. Just wait two more years," the girl said.
"Have you ever broken a rule?" her brother retorted, somewhat sarcastically.
Both parents rolled their eyes at the sibling banter before going to get the cooler of drinks. Once they were out of earshot, the brother turned to her. "They seem to be fine to me."
"I guess."
"You over analyze, you know that?"
"Shut up!" the sister laughed, as she pushed her brother who rolled over at her not so rough shove.
She had a smile when she woke up. She knew this was her family; she wondered if her brother or parents were looking for her. Of course, she couldn't help but wonder where they were when she was in the dark place, because the family she had at the picnic with would not have left her there. She knew that the brother who protected her and her loving parents wouldn't have done that. She knew these things, but didn't know how. But she at least knew she had a family; not that she knew any names. But for them not to have come to help her, they would probably have to be dead. Maybe it was best she didn't remember that memory.
Her fourth memory had occurred when she was taking a nap, and it had included the man that she had concluded she was in love with several days prior.
They were in a nice apartment. The warm eyed man was looking through a collection of CDs.
"Wow, a world of music… There's a shock…Tibetan throat singers. Rock on, Bones," he added the last part with sarcasm.
"That's mostly for work," she weakly defended, knowing that it was still unusual music for anyone to own.
"Kanye West, Captain Power… Uh, oh whoa, alright. Look at this man, lots of jazz. Wow I think all that free form stuff can be a little unpredictable for you."
"No, I love it! The artist has to live within a set tonal structure and trust his own instincts to find his way out of an infinite maze of musical possibilities and the great ones do." She then noticed a smile that made her knees feel slightly weak, though she didn't let it show to him. "What?"
"Oh nothing, I just… I just never expected that you would. You know…"
"That I would love music? Well, I don't usually get to talk about it but since you brought it up I thought…" she trailed off. Maybe that music was fairly out of date. She didn't really keep up with that sort of thing. It didn't usually bother her, but if he was going to judge her for it, maybe she should just stay quiet. There was a reason she talk about pop culture much.
"No, hey. I didn't mean to make you feel self conscious or…" he began to apologize, but his attention was quickly diverted. "Whoa, what's this? Ha."
"What is it?"
"Nice."
Suddenly a familiar tune began to play and he began to bob his head. She wasn't sure what to do; it was one of her guilt pleasure songs.
"Uh, how did that get there?" she asked, slightly worried. If he had questioned her taste in jazz, what would he think about this?
"Oh, please, everyone loves Foreigner. Hot Blooded? Talk about guilty pleasures. Check it baby." He began to start playing air guitar, and she couldn't help but smile at his juvenile behavior. She slowly began to get into the rhythm as he began to lip sync with the music and he started to sing. She could no longer control the urge to join him and threw her leg into the air and started dancing and singing with him. It had been a while since she had let loose like that, and she enjoyed it. Unfortunately, an ringing sound went off like a telephone in her dream.
And as she awoke, she heard a similar ring echoing through Dani's home.
"Hey, Ben…Everything's doing okay. But I've got a favor to ask when you get back-… Why will it be a few more days?... One of them who helped you find me?... And no one's heard from her?... Why are you involved if she lives in Washington?... And the FBI is sending people to come look for her? She must be really important to them… Angie's coming down to look for her, too? I'll see if she wants to crash here. Me and Roxie and take the living room, if it's okay with her… Roxie. The woman I found on the side of the road…I told you about her last week… Well, she can't remember much. That was what I was going to ask you to help us with. I thought maybe you could find something out from the missing person database… Angela can? She's an artist, Ben… Really? Guess it won't hurt to ask her. When will she be here, anyway?...Three days is enough time. My house is actually fairly clean right now… Okay, thanks, Ben… Bye."
Apparently Dani was worried the phone woke her up, since she came to check on her. "Did the phone wake you up?"
"No," she lied. She decided to change the subject. "Who was on the phone?"
"Ben was checking in. He's going to be another few days. A big author disappeared in the state, and they want everyone following leads. FBI is even sending people down from other places. But my friend is coming down from Washington DC to look for her. She and her husband called Ben, but since he won't be in town he wanted to know if I had room. I haven't seen Angie in ages. Her boyfriend died while visiting a few years ago, and she hasn't been back since."
"Why is she coming down here?"
"She's good friends with the missing author."
"Ah…"
"Speaking of missing people, any helpful dreams?"
She sat there for a moment trying to remember anything from her latest dream. She had shared all of her memories with Dani so far, though no useful information had come through. "My job has something to do with Tibetan throat singers. And I like jazz music and the music group, Foreigner. Though, I highly doubt that either of those will help determined who I really am." She decided to leave out the man with the brown eyes. Clearly they were good friends, which gave her a comfortable feeling. She knew that she was safe when he was around, no matter what.
"Any information is better than none at all."
"So far all we know is that I have almost murdered, have a brown eyed friend who saved my life, I have at some point had a brother, mother, and father. And I have an unusual job related to Tibet in some way."
"And the names Roxie and Tony mean something to you."
"None of that is useful in a missing person database, except the names."
"Well, I need to go clean. Angie and her husband will be here in a few days."
"I can help!" she quickly sat up (and regretted the speed at which she did).
"No. You're still recuperating from your accident."
"I don't like just sitting here."
"Maybe tomorrow, Roxie. I'll go get you some more ibuprofen." Dani left the room with that, leaving a restless woman on the cot.
What do you guys think? Love any comments you want to give. :)