Chapter Nine
It was pitch black, he couldn't move, he could hear water dripping from the ceiling of the sewers.
Drip, drip, drip.
He tried to push out with his arm but couldn't move his hand, let alone gather enough energy to move a single muscle.
Drip, drip, drip.
His breathing quickened and he could hear his heart beat faster. He couldn't move. He was trapped.
Drip, drip, drip.
All of a sudden, he was a five-year-old little boy again, playing hide-and-go-seek.
Drip, drip, drip.
He's hiding in the closet, hunkered down between one of Mommy and Daddy's suitcases and a storage box.
Drip, drip, drip.
He could almost hear Christmas hymns wafting through the warm house. He could see the carpet that Daddy bought for Mommy from a gypsy on one of their travels when they were young. He could smell the musty smell of mothballs.
Drip, drip, drip.
No, no, no, no! He couldn't think that! He couldn't remember! Don't remember! He was in the sewers under Gotham City! It was damp and cold! He was a teenager now! He was an assassin! A freelance mercenary! He wasn't five-years-old!
But it WAS nearing Christmas.
Drip, drip, drip.
He could hear them. His parents. Giggling, whispering. Calling out softly. 'Where are you?' They know he's here. He's just waiting for them to find him. Then they can all go downstairs to the livingroom where they would all sit on the floor around the fireplace, Daddy will read him a Christmas story, Mommy will smile and hand them warm mugs of hot chocolate. They would open Christmas presents. Then they would sing Christmas carols. And Daddy would tell him the story about how he and Mommy met. How they fell in love. How they got married. He would tell them he told Santa he wanted a White Christmas.
Drip, drip, drip.
He should've asked Santa for more time with Mommy and Daddy.
He's waiting. Waiting for them to open the closet door where the treasure hunt he made will lead them to him. Mommy's pretending she doesn't know where he is.
"Is he hiding behind the couch? Is he wrapped up in the curtains?"
Drip, drip, drip.
Finally Daddy is opening the closet door. He's been hiding in there for so long that the light is almost blinding. He could only see a rod of light. But the door doesn't open any more than that. He knows something is wrong. His breath quickens and his heart beats hard.
Drip, drip, drip.
He hears Mommy gasp and scream. Daddy's shouting. He hears something heavy fall. Daddy closes the door. He's left in darkness again.
Drip, drip, drip.
He hears Mommy sobbing. He hears something liquid bubbling. Suddenly, Mommy is quiet too. He wants to shout, to ask them if they're okay. But he's scared. He pushes on the door but it won't open. Daddy must be holding it closed.
"Daddy? Daddy? Open the door Daddy!"
Drip, drip, drip.
He feels something warm on his socked feet. He curls his toes away from it but it seeps into the closet. He wants to get out.
"Mommy? Mommy? Make Daddy open the door! Mommy I'm scared! Make him open the door!"
Find me!
Drip, drip, drip.
He's pushing on the door, crying, screaming, yelling for help. Why wouldn't they open the door? Was he being punished? Was he being bad?
I promise I'll be good!
Drip, drip, drip.
He doesn't know how long he's been screaming. He doesn't know how long he's been trapped in there. Surely Mommy and Daddy have forgiven him by now? He must've fallen asleep at some time. Something smells bad. It smells strong. He can't breathe. He's hyperventilating. He can't breathe!
Can'tbreathe!Can'tbreathe!Can'tbreathe!
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
He hears someone outside the closet and tries to call out but his voice is gone. He's already screamed so much. His throat burns. It hurts so much! Whoever it is out there is moving around. What if he leaves and doesn't find me? Who is out there? Does it matter? He just wants to get out. Whatever it is on his socks has by now dried and he can't move his feet.
What if I'm not found? Find me!
Drip,drip,drip,drip.
He's tired and his whole body hurts but he lifts his hands and pounds on the door with all his might. It's only a light tapping sound. He tries to scream but can only get out a whimper.
Don't leave me here! Find me!
Drip,drip,drip,drip,drip.
The person outside stops moving, just freezes. Maybe he heard him? He whimpers again and continues tapping. He hears something being dragged away and the door swings open under his weight. He collapses flat on his face. Strange, he doesn't remember the gypsy carpet being entirely red, he doesn't remember it being so rough. But he's out of the closet. He's free.
Somebody found me!
Drip,drip,drip,drip,drip!
He tries to get up but only manages to push himself up a few inches and turns his head. He sees Mommy and Daddy. They're wearing red clothes. Did they change their clothes? Why were they sleeping on the floor? Why was Daddy sleeping with his eyes half-open? He feels cold.
Nononononono!
Can't breathe, can't move, so scared, so cold!
DRIP,DRIP,DRIP,DRIP,DRIP!
Get me out of here!
Drake gasped himself to wakefulness and choked back on a scream. He had no idea when he fell asleep or when he started crying. Usually he woke himself up when he cried. He never got to the end of his dream. He saw a faint glimmer of light flicker above him. It must be daytime up there. He wants to be up there. He blinks hard and focuses on the light. He can't think that he can't move. He'll panic again. He has to move. He has to get to that light. It will lead him out and above ground. He strained his right hand and was relieved when his fingers twitched. He could move. He shifts his shoulder and wedges his hand between the slab of stone pinning him down. He reaches up above his head and pushes. He feels the rocks shift and wobble. He pushes himself up with his feet and the rocks above him break into a wider opening. He breathes easier now. but he still can't get out. His whole left side is numb, and his right side is in pain. But he can breathe, he can move. He's so relieved he could almost laugh. But he's tired now so he'll sleep. He doesn't notice the blood dribbling down his side. He can't feel it. He's tired, so he sleeps.