Prisoner's Podium

He stood at the front of the room, speaking freely in front of the other inmates. A guard stood off to the right behind him, another by the door, but he could tell nothing was going to happen here. There was that air of calamity. Everyone in the room was hanging on every word of the prisoner. He looked a smart man, a positive one, didn't look like he really belonged here at all, but Thomas had said there were wrongs in his past, just as there was with everyone here. Even himself, although they were not the same reasons that got himself locked up. He shook the thought from his mind and focused on the inmate, Nick the others called him. For a flicker of a moment, their eyes met and he could swear there was a hesitation in his spoken words, but he looked away quickly and Damien dismissed it as part of his imagination.

"You are only as good as what you let let yourself be."

Absently, Damien found himself nodding slightly, agreeing. He could listen to those uplifting talks all day, if there weren't people out there wanting to kill him.

[195 words]

The Kill

Cameron shoved her easily against the wall, slapping his hand across her mouth and silencing her screams. She was looking wide eyed at the person in front of her. That person being me. I cringed, looking away and around the apartment. Clean white tiles and cabinets in the kitchen. They'd be a bloody mess by the time we left, I was sure. I turned back to the pair of them. Damn it, we had to leave! I wasn't going to kill this woman. Not with those happy snaps taped to the refrigerator, the frames along the wall.

"Cameron," I insisted, "let's just go."

He gave me a look and I turned to address the scared little woman. She was fighting all her strength against him, but she was wasting her time and energy. Cameron was too strong. Always was.

"Listen, you were a witness to the Henderson case 16 years ago. We're here to remind you not to get involved. You don't remember those days very well, your word hasn't changed in the years gone by. You can be of no help to any recent investigations. You won't tell anyone about this visit, and life we carry on as normal. Got it? You can stay quiet, can't you?"

Cameron let go of her, shoving her back into the wall again as he turned on me.

"Get your gun out now."

I gave in, taking it out to please him.

"Now, kill her."

"No," I repeated.

He took the woman by the hair and dragged her over towards the kitchen, taking a knife from the top draw. She whimpered, over and over. I won't tell. I won't tell.

"Kill her painlessly with a single bullet. Do that and she won't suffer for hours, waiting for the blood loss to spill from her helpless body..."

He bought the knife up to her chest, making a slice through the material on her top. The tears were streaming down her face. I looked her in the eye, then had to divert them to my gun. Fuck it. Fuck Cameron. The knife was bearing on the tips of her shoulder blades. I'd seen the photos of those kids. Seen them squirm in pain for hours...

I bought the gun up level and felt the tears mirroring hers in my eyes. I fired.

[387 words]

Before the Kill

"You know, we don't have to do this," I insisted as Cameron found a parking spot, completely at ease with what we were about to do, "I mean, it was almost two decades ago, she won't be of any help to the investigation. She'll stay quiet if we ask her to."

He didn't appear to be listening. He was loading his gun.

"Cameron-"

He interrupted, "How many movies have you watched where someone says 'don't go to the police'? They always go to the police."

He shoved the gun against my chest, and I caught it before it fell, "What are you giving it to me for?" He looked at me as if I were stupid, "No. No way. I ain't killing her."

He was already getting out of the car and I shoved the gun hastily away into my jacket. I couldn't believe this. I jumped out and followed him towards the elevator. "You're a bastard, Cameron. I didn't travel borders to come and do your bidding."

"You were destined to do my bidding the instant we met!" he growled, shoving me forwards as the doors opened. I held my tongue as we traveled to the top floor. My mind was racing unhappily. Yes I'd done some bad things in my life, but I'd never killed anyone, least of all a woman. I cringed as he led the way to a door on the left and knocked before I could get a word in. I stood there hysterically. We hadn't planned anything. This was not a part of the plan. Heck, me holding the gun wasn't a part of the plan. I didn't have time to think, to gather my thoughts. I desperately wanted to back out. My heart was beating too fast. But before I could turn and run, the door clicked opened.

"Hi," Cameron greeted, "Do you mind if we come in?"

The woman was slightly younger than me, blonde hair, nice face. Very nice face. Pretty. She looked speechless at the pair of us.

"Um, sorry," she stammered, "no."

She was closing the door on us. My getaway was in reach. Then Cameron's foot landed in the gap between the door and the frame, and he shoved it inwards, darting inside. I cursed. No backing out of it now. I followed him, shutting the door behind us. The woman screamed.

[394 words]

Slow Death

15 June 2010

I couldn't breathe. I needed air. They were going to suffocate me. A slow death. A miserable, slow, effortless death. I wondered what they'd do to my body. Leave it here to rot, let the crows have me. Maybe slice me to pieces, or put me on display. I stopped thinking. I could breathe again. I wasn't going to die just yet. Then they pushed me to the floor and I fell hard, unable to get to my feet again. Maybe I was wrong. They still had the chance to kill me then and there. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to die.

[105 words]

Control

I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to think, nor to expect. My grandparents were going to kill me if this guy didn't first. Death. I was too young to die, wasn't I? No, even I knew the answer to that. My beautiful little sister... I shook my head. I wanted to get out of here. I couldn't. I was trapped. And no one knew... dammit! What happened to 'never walk the streets alone' or 'stay in a group'? I wished I'd stayed at that party now, no matter how out of control it got. At least then I had the power to stop and prevent some of my mate's actions. I had no power here, no control. And I had no idea how long it would last.

[131 words]

Out There

Her ear drums hurt as she plummeted out of the water, sending splashes spaying. Her eyes swept the dark landscape, looking for the first sign of movement as the rain pelt down on her sodden clothes. She let out a moan of frustration. They weren't going to be impressed if she let him get away. But she couldn't hear over the rain, and her torch light certainly didn't do any good.

"I know you're out there!" she screamed, not expecting her prey to make a response and give away their location. She looked behind her out onto the water. It was quite still, considering the storm that was brewing. Ah, with any luck, they'd drowned too. And she knew she'd had at least one kill today. This pleased her.

[129 words]

The Believer

Another long daily :D Don't get too excited, I doub't they'll last :P

I sat shivering on one of the park benches. It had to be… what? Six o’clock? I didn’t have a watch. To be honest, I didn’t really care. I had more pressing matters on my mind. I stared at the mobile in my hands. They were shaking hysterically, and I gripped tight to the phone. To call or not to call. I’d been debating this for the last ten minutes and still couldn’t come to the right decision. If I turned myself in, I would be admitting to something I’d never done. But if I stayed out here, they would come after me, anyway. The longer I stayed out here, the more I was putting my little brother in danger. But I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t find the courage to make that call. The only thing I could do right now was sit there, staring dumbfounded at the pavement. People would awake soon. Morning joggers. They’d see me if I didn’t hide. I shouldn’t need to hide, I have nothing to hide from, except him. And he’s now the reason I’m hiding from everyone else.

I nearly had a heart attack when my phone rang. I jumped up from my spot, covered it with my hand trying to muffle the sound, as my mind raced into new decisions: to answer or not to answer. I ran for the cover of the trees. I knew I had to answer it. But I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. It wouldn’t shut up. Either I had to start it or end it. Just one button. That was all…

My fingers fumbled with the keypad…

And I answered.

“Hello?”

My voice was horrible. Cracked, whispered. Scared. Very scared. I kept walking through the trees.

“Nicholas Briggs?”

“Yes?”

“Hi there, kid. I’m Senior Sergeant Samuel Peterson, I’m with the police. Do you know why I’m calling you?”

I couldn’t help the tears welling in my eyes. This was it. It was over. Deeper and deeper into the forest.

“You want to lock me up,” I whispered, “You want to charge me.”

There was a slight pause on the other end, “Have you done anything wrong, Nick?”

I whimpered like a little boy. Why didn’t he just say it already? You’re going to jail, tell me where you are.

“I…” I stammered. If I was going to jail, I had to toughen up. But I crumbled anyway. “I don’t know.”

“Nick, I think you’re a scared little man, and we’re all worried about you.”

“Whose we?” I choked.

“The authorities. Your step-father.”

I let out a wail. Step-father? Worried? Damn! He had nothing to worry about! He was a King of Power, someone I couldn’t overthrow. Someone I didn’t want to overthrow. Who knew what it would mean for my little brother. Little Damien…

“Nick, you still there?”

“Shut up! Shut up! If I hear about that bastard one more time—”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. Nick, I think you’ve just gone for a nice long walk to try and clear your head. Can you tell me where you are?”

“I…” I stopped. Looking around me. Tree. Tree. Another tree. “No—“

I stopped again. Taking a few more steps forward and peered ahead where the trees cleared. Yes. Yes, I knew that street on the other side. It was a half hour walk from home.

“Yes.”

“Nick. I want you to know I don’t think you killed your mother.”

“Well,” I rushed, “Wha—“

Wait. Did he just say he didn’t think I’d killed her? Was he serious?

“And you’re feeling very lost,” Sam continued, “but you don’t need to run anymore.”

I didn’t say anything. Running still seemed so much easier… even if this guy might believe his innocence.

“I need your word that you didn’t kill her, Nick. You give me that, you can come home and we can talk about it. If you can’t give me that promise, I’m going to have to trace this call and everyone will be after you in a matter of minutes. I don’t want to have to do that.”

“Why?” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks, “Why are you doing this?”

“Let’s just say this is off the radar. My partner and I are heading to your step-father’s house now, I’d appreciate it if you met us there.”

“No. No. I’m not doing anything off the radar.”

“I’m not asking you to. That would be my doing. You’re facing great charges, Nick. If I can consult your step-father before you get here, we can consult the evidence and try and find your little brother.”

I leapt at his words, “What do you mean ‘find’?”

“Your step-father seemed to neglect mentioning you had another sibling.”

I could’ve screamed. “I’m coming! I’ll be there in half hour.”

“Your word, Nick.”

“You have it! My word! I watched that bastard kill her! Watched him torture Damien! Experienced it first hand myself.”

I fell to the ground, weeping.

“Half hour, Nick. I’ll see you there, okay? We’re going to end this.”

I hung up the phone, sniffling like a toddler and giving myself a few minutes to calm down. At least someone believed him, right? Maybe it’d be okay after all. I picked myself up, unaware where my feet were really taking me. I had no strength left. But a little bit of that hope had returned. I don’t know how I navigated my way home when I was on such a breakdown, but I did. I didn’t know what to expect. I jumped the back fence, pausing as I landed. I had to pull myself together. This was it. It’d be all okay.

I looked up at the sound of the sliding door opening. Two officers started walking towards me. I edged backwards as they yelled at me.

“Nicholas Henderson?”

I whimpered, hand moving back to the gate. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Heck, why did I answer that call? Which one was Sam? Sam wouldn’t yell at him.

One of them forced me forwards away from the gate, grabbing my arms and pulling out the handcuffs.

“You’re under arrest.”

“For what?” I cried, wrists locked behind me.

“You know what for.”

They led me towards the sliding door. I could see other officers standing around. Many. Too many. Through the sliding door. My eyes searched the room. Our living area, which led into the dining and kitchen. My eyes instantly fell to the body that lie motionless just inside the door to the left. Almost exactly where I’d watched my mother fall, gunned down…

An officer with the name badge, “Senior Sergeant S. Peterson”.

I screamed out a cry of frustration, my legs buckling to the ground, my hair hiding my tear-strewn face. They had to physically force me to my feet again, before leading me out the door. They wanted to lock me up. I was seventeen. My sentence? Thirty.

[1155 words]

Resignation

14 April 2010

"Is something wrong?"

"Why do you care?"

"Is that a yes?"

"I just lost my brother, okay?"

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know what you must be going through."

"How could you honestly say that, Henderson? You killed your parents! I don't know why you didn't just kill your brother while you were at it, you hate this world so much, you come in here expecting to get something out of it but you don't put anything into it. You can't talk to people, you try to take a hold of situations you can't handle-"

"If you'd let me explain-"

"You've had three years to explain! I'm fed up with the question. I'm fed up with you! Just get out of this room, now!"

Nick shook his head, ridding the memory from his mind. That was the day that counselor had resigned. And he'd had a point. In three years of their sessions, he hadn't given away a single thing that told him about himself.

[166 words]

Losing It All

He swung the door open and hurried down the hall. He couldn’t take it anymore. Something was wrong, he could sense it. The silence was too much, those voices the day before had sounded so excited. Why? He couldn’t stand not knowing. Sooner or later, he would know what was causing the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was not something he had eaten as he first suspected it was. It was intuition, and it was driving him insane.

He nearly ran around the entire house, popping his head in every room only to find each one empty. Why were they empty? They never left him alone. They wouldn’t leave him alone. There were so many of them, one could always be relied upon to keep an eye on him. They needed to keep an eye on him, because his emotions were so out of control. He shook, grabbing the closest wall to him for support. He’d been round the entire house. Where was everyone? Why did they always have to keep him in the dark?

He let out a small cry of pain as he returned glumly to the room he was assigned. Hopeless, worthless, good for nothing—

He stopped abruptly in front of the door. He couldn’t remember closing it after him. The window wasn’t open, and hadn’t been open since they’d moved, so the wind couldn’t have blown it shut. He gulped. He was right. They never left him alone. He looked up from his feet to face the door now, and his heart almost dropped out of his chest as he tore the message from the door.

We’ve got her.

The tears streamed down his cheeks as he read those three words over a few times. They had her. His little angel. His reason to live. He had failed. He had failed miserably. He was supposed to protect her, keep her away from all this. What would happen to her? He knew the answer to that without question, but he couldn’t admit that. She would not die. Not if he had anything to do with it.

“I’m going to kill you!” he screamed aloud, slamming the door open and tumbling inside. A hand caught him in the middle of his stomach to prevent him falling face forwards.

“No, you’re not,” the voice belonging to the man replied, “You’re going to kill Bill.”

“I already told you. I won’t do it.”

He pushed the man away, scrunching up the piece of paper still held tight in his hands.

“Then you know what we’ll do to her.”

The man strode from the room, slamming the door again behind him. The boy ran forwards, pounding his fists against the wood, jiggling with the doorknob. He was locked in, again. He crumbled to the floor. They had won, he had lost. They wanted him to turn violent, he would. Anything to undone what he’d done.

[488 words]