My throat was so dry. It felt as if I hadn't drank in days. I'd spent every ounce of energy left screaming my lungs off. And now my body couldn't take it any longer, it had failed me, it was giving up on me.
Everything was clear now. I remembered what had happened. I knew where I was.
I also knew that getting out would be impossible without help. If Dean didn't save me, I was doomed.
But he would save me. He was there. I heard him. Of course, it could've been another dream. But I doubted it. I woke up to a loud bang. With nothing happening after that I settled back down again. And then...
I'd heard footsteps. Then I heard that familiar voice that I loved so much. It was so faint though, I had no clue what he said.
The footsteps had come from above me; as did his voice. Then, like a pounding wave, I figured everything out.
I couldn't find a door, because it wasn't on the wall.
It was above me.
My left side hurt so bad because I'd been dropped unto the concrete. When I threw my shoe up to see how far up the latch was, I discovered it had to be at least eight feet high. There was no way I could reach it.
So I did the only thing I knew. I began screaming. I yelled Dean's name louder and louder. I even threw my shoe back up there a few times, to try and make as much noise as possible.
But when I finally stopped my ranting, and heard silence from around me, I knew Dean had not heard anything. He'd left. I was literally right under his nose and he had no idea.
Falling to my butt, I pushed back yet another set of tears. It seemed lately all I did was cry. But there was no stopping the salty liquid. My mind had finally registered that I was in serious danger and had no way of getting out.
I tried to keep quiet. I didn't know why, no one would hear me. But I guessed I was too afraid to really let it all out.
That, too didn't last long. Years of pain, and fear, and anger poured out of me. Covering my face with my hands I really began to think that that was the end for me. That my life would stop short and I would never get to accomplish all the dreams I'd made. My sobbing increased. By that point my entire body was shaking, my wide shoulders moving up and down in a rythmic motion. All that money Dean had spent on me was a wasted cause. I'd be dead.
All the years of wanting, of wishing so hard that my mother had still been alive, and praying Dad would change his ways, and Dean, holding me tight against the big bad world, were the images that played in my head as I cryed. Unfortunatly, Dad was too wrapped up in his own world to change, and Mom was gone and was never coming back. And Dean couldn't protect me from the world all my life. I had face it eventually. And, as I looked up, I failed when I did.
I continued to cry, letting all the things that had hurt me rush out. Not caring what was happening at that point.
-----
The next room was a bathroom. And, of course, it had wallpaper. The Franklins were paranoid about wallpaper.
The sink and toilet looked fairly new, but the tub was an antique. It was one of those claw footed tubs, with a large basin and gold spickets. There was no telling how old it was. But I assumed the pipes were pretty damn old. I would never want to fix them.
Finishing the tour of the first floor I had found nothing that caught my attention, besides the locket. And it was pissing me off.
Turning back into the living room, I stopped short, my boots making echoing sounds through the empty hallway. Peaking around the corner, I caught a glimpse of the back of a girl. She was moving fast, rummaging through the paperwork on the side table. She was grumbling, and her voice sounded extremely deep.
I wanted to rush her. I guessed she was an accomplice to whoever had Sam, and I wanted to know what she did. But her pissed off attitude and the way she was moving so fast, made me hesitate. It was apperent she was searching for somethng, I just didn't know what.
She turned around and I got a better look at her. She had long blonde hair that sparkled in the rising sun's glow. Her body showed she was in pretty good shape. But she looked different. She couldn't have been older than eighteen. Just a kid. But I'd never seen a kid with that much ferocity before.
Holding my breath every time the chick looked up, I started to think over my options. Sam was nearby, if not in the house, and that girl knew where. She'd obviously lost something important. Maybe if I found it before her I could cut a deal with her. But what could a teenage chick be looking for in a deserted house?
My fingers traveled to my jacket pocket and felt the cool jewelry. I smirked. That had to be it.
My spirit lifted alittle, I focused my eyes back on the room. I was so self absorbed in creating a good bet, I never felt someone sneak up behind me and throw their hands over my mouth.
-----
Panicking, I tried to grab my attacker's wrist and push them away, but it was unnessisary. Taking a long look I recognized the person as Anna.
She pressed her finger to her lips in effort to keep my silent. I answered with raised eyebrows. She used the same finger to point down the hall.
As she led me away from the other girl, I was able to get a better look at the teenager. Her curly dark hair was matted to her head and her face looked hollow. Her body was worse. Both arms and legs were covered in everything from bruises, to deep gashes, to dust. Her poor tank top was ripped in multiple spots.
We continued walking, down to the other end of the hall, up the wooden stairs, and into the farthest room on that floor. Once we were safely locked inside a study, I turned on Anna.
"What the fuck is going on? How the hell did you get here? Where's Sam? And who was that?" the questions came one after the other. I tried to stop them, especially after seeing the girls alarmed face, but I was fed up playing hide and seek with whatever the hell I was hunting.
Anna let out a long breath. She looked close to tears. I felt guilty, I'd never meant to make her cry.
Guiding her over to a chair, I apologized, knelt beside her, giving her a chance to gather herself together again.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," she said softly, her face had turned cold. She was most unlike her mother in regard of holding her emotions. From the look of it, she had experience with keeping her emotions hidden.
I wanted to say she reminded me of myself, but shook the thought away. I didn't hide my feelings, I just kept them from certain people. Who cared if it was the people I loved most.
Besides, I promised myself back in the woods I'd never keep another thing from Sam again. That was, if I found him.
"You didn't scare me. I just really wanna know whats going on," I answered, placing a hand on her shoulder, in hopes of her speeding up her speech.
Swallowing, Anna looked at me. She knew I was lying. "I'm so sorry Dean. I didn't mean for her to take Sam. I got scared and called for his help. I-I never knew this would happen." the tears were completely vanished; her somber face scaring me a bit.
"Anna, where's Sam? Please...I need to help him." I pleaded.
"I-I don't know. I've searched every inch of this house and can't find him. They have him in a hidden room somewhere."
"How do you know he's here?"
She turned that chilly face to me. "He's here. I watched them. They thought I was conked out. But I was stronger than Dave."
I pretended like I knew what she was talking about. "Okay, well, where would this room be, do you know?"
"I might. But if he's there...it's going to be a miracle if we can save him without being caught."
"Why?" I was ready to shake the girl. She knew where my brother was and wouldn't tell me. I thought I would die of impatience.
Looking deeper into my eyes, the girl replied. "Because, once you enter the cell...you don't leave. It's a one way ticket to hell."
"Please, Anna...please...just show me it," I was practically groveling. The need was becoming too great.
Without speaking, Anna got up, took a quick galnce at me and sighed, opened the door, and walked back downstairs.