Her traitorous disguise

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basement


She knew the road was steep,
But she no longer had an excuse,
For maybe she had something to hold onto earlier,
But now; she had nothing to lose.

_____________________



27 January 2011

I sat with my knees buckled below me and my face buried into my flower-like hands, licking my lips as the taste of failure consumed me whole.

These past days have been unbelievably tiring since I've been searching the entire mansion inside out.

I've even gone through the trouble of sneaking inside the servant quarters in search of it.

All this was driving me insane.

I quietly sobbed as I expected the worst.

What if mum- no,

no she wouldn't.

Would she?

I hoped not.

I could only pray that she hadn't thrown it away.

I remember craving a playstation for weeks after I had witnessed Lucas and Noah battling a humongous lizardfish, they refused to let me join and therefore, I had to play nice for 4 whole months before Santa blessed me with my very own.

Santa was my favourite; he always seemed to give me what I wanted.

As a kid, I would get sets of Ken dolls and every Christmas I would wrap them in thick red wrapping papers,

Labelling them as Lucas and Noah and place them under the tree, so that Santa would come collect them and give me a dog instead; in my defence it was quiet a fair trade.

I didn't realise that there would come a time where I'd be wrapping their bodies in thick white sheets which stained red as their blood soaked into them.

I didn't ever reckon that a day would come when I would label their graves with their initials and burry them six feet under.

I wonder if I asked Santa for my family back, would he find a way to return them to me. Even the thought of it is silly, but I couldn't help wonder if Santa didn't exist at all.

My parents were my Santa.

They bought me presents, placing them under the tree at midnight as dad would bite a chunk of the big cookies mum and us used to bake, chugging the milk in one go; and later the next morning pretend as if Santa paid us a visit the night before.

Once the dentist had warned me not to eat too many sweets right before christmas, can you believe that?

I recall begging mum for an extra cookie the night before christmas but she refused; claiming I'd get cavities so I shut my eyes and prayed to God asking him to send Santa with a whole bunch of cookies for me and me alone.

The next morning I woke up with a basket of kisses and galaxy and a several different types of chocolates, candies and cookies all wrapped up in aesthetic red and white bows and placed accordingly in the plain snowy basket.

A note was placed on the right corner inside it which read,

"Promise me that you'll be nice, cause each of those candies come with a price, learn to love instead of fight, for the real magic is hidden inside. I love you the most if only you knew, break your promise and see what I do".

It terrified me that I had to play nice with my brothers but it just had to be done.

They did try their best to get on my nerves that following week but I refused to react to their nonsensical actions and immature behaviour.

Now sitting here; all that trouble seemed worthless.

I lifted my head as I mentally jotted down everywhere I had searched and the places which were yet to be scanned.

1). Mommy and daddy's room- check
2). Lucas's room- check
3). Noah's room- check
4). All 5 of the guest rooms- check
5). Both the living and the coffee rooms- check
6). The kitchen and the garden- check
7). The library and the study room- check
8). The cinema room and the play room- check
9). My own bedroom and the store room- check
10). The artic- check
11). The basement- check-

wait no-

NOT CHECK

My insides twisted as hope ignited in my eyes,

yes. yes. yes.

I crossed my fingers as I quietly stood up and cautiously tiptoed towards the basement.

It was located just below the storeroom stairs, a couple of meters away from the kitchen.

It wasn't that anyone had ever directly instructed us not to visit the basement. It was just an understood concept in our house.

We weren't allowed into the basement and we all knew it; no one needed to confirm it.

Honestly speaking I had never really desired to visit it anyway since it never held anything of my interest but now this was a whole different scenario.

As I stood across the basement's wooden door which was crafted almost beautifully, I couldn't help but imagine how much trouble I'd be in if anyone caught me entering the basement, the consequences I would have to face.

But my curiosity got the best of me and before I could overthink the situation any further I pushed the door ajar and walked inside shutting the it behind me to ensure that no one would follow.

Darkness swallowed me as I struggled to land each step of the stairs.

I felt relief wash over me as I finally reached the last step and pressed the tips of my fingers to the wall beside me.

Whimpers which surely weren't mine echoed in my ears encouraging me to locate the switches faster then I intended.

After what felt like hours, my fingers landed onto a huge bump that hugged the wall, I flipped the first two, silently praying that they aren't burglary alarms, cause if they were, I'd be screwed.

The first set of lights ignited while I continued to flip the rest. Soon the enormous room was lighted up by circular white lights.

My jaw dropped as I registered the sight before me.

The room looked nothing like the rest of the house, instead it resembled one of those frightening rooms you'd often see in a horror movie.

The walls too were a dark shade of grey and there was not a single piece of furniture down here.

Instead it was crowded with hundreds and hundreds of boxes all piled up, one over the other.

It didn't have no windows I wondered adding it to the list while pretending to be in a horror film; then mentally slapped myself for being so unreasonable, how could there be windows in the basement when it's underground.

The muffled whimpers that had faded, once again began to echo, bouncing off the walls repeatedly.

A shiver ran down my spine as I scanned the dimly lit room in search of the dreadful sound but nothing seemed odd from the view I had set my eyes upon.

Therefore, I began to walk forward, taking slow and steady steps as I neared the origin of the noise.

After passing quite a lot of enormous plain brown boxes with numbers and names written all over them, my faith in myself seemed to flatten; if dad had hid my game in one of these boxes then I would certainly never find it.

My thoughts suddenly vanished as my feet came to a halt; the sight before me suppressed leaden dread to pool in my veins cutting off my oxygen and leaving me grasping for air.

A rusty metal chair was placed in the centre of the gloomy room, while the huge boxes helped hide the poor girl from view.

This was bizarre.

Fear jolted me as I cursed myself for ever walking in.

Who was she?

What if she's a killer?

A thief?

A bad guy?

But why would a bad guy be here,

In our house.

I mean no hate, but even I knew for a fact that we weren't no incredibles.

And if she was someone bad then why would she be tied up, shouldn't she be- I don't know, what do bad guys to... creating Chaos?

Thousands and thousands of scenarios flashed through my mind as I struggled to teach my lungs how to do their very own job.

She was tied onto the metal chair with a thick brown tinted rope, and her hands and feet were too tied together in pairs.

A blindfold was wrapped around her eyes blocking her view of her surroundings.

Her clothes torn from multiple places and the exposed skin carved with cuts and bruises; lips torn open and blood drooled from the side as well as her nose.

The left side of her face held a scar that travelled all the way down her jaw and rested at the edge of her neck.

I took in her appearance for a second and if that scar was excluded from her appearance then she'd be somewhat beautiful.

Her hair was a dusty mess; almost seemed as if she hadn't bathed for days.

I suddenly felt guilty for wondering such nonsensical bullshit considering the condition the girl was in.

She was clearly not here with her own free will and her boney body was an powerful evidence for the assumption that she hadn't been fed for only god knows how long; bathing was certainly not the biggest of her concerns.

Layers of crimson coated her wounds making the atmosphere reek of sweat and blood.

A wave of sadness crept over me; bit by bit, so deep that it feels as if heavy weights were holding me still; I want to walk up to her, untie him and ask her if she's alright but I can't.

No matter how hard I try I can't;

I'm paralysed.

Her whimpers grow louder ensuring that they don't go unnoticed and genuinely succeed.

I once again scan the room and my eyes land on the north where laid several shelves and drawers, all carrying tools, including; hammers, ropes, knifes, handcuffs, blades and guns.

Guns.

Oh my god.

Anxiety nibbled at my insides and I began to fear the worst.

After playing countless levels in both 'battlefield' and 'God of war'; I most certainly knew what guns were but I just couldn't understand why we had them;

Only bad guys had guns or the people fighting the bad guys.

But we were neither villains nor super hero's.

And that's what left me confused.

I was aware that I was much smarter then any other twelve year old my age but this whole scenario was scaring the shit of me as I rushed towards the shelves, dragging my repulsive feet along with me while I reached for a knife to cut the rope enough for her to untie herself and make her escape.

Good person or bad; I couldn't even think of that at the moment. All I knew was that there was a someone tied up who needed help.

In my opinion, even bad people deserved another chance, everyone makes mistakes right?

So what is so awfully dangerous in giving them another one?

I mean mommy gives forgives me when I steal an extra cookie or break something valuable.

Then why can't they be forgiven?

As I made my way towards the bruised women, I made a mental note to run to daddy and mommy after this and inform them of what I had just witnessed so they can then call the cops.

However as I reached for the knife, the shelves across me slide open.

I quickly dropped the knife, praying that the women hadn't seen me yet as I rushed behind one of the humongous wooden boxes and hid there as bile rose up my throat and the need to vomit becomes a blaring possibility.

Hushed murmurs filled the room slicing through the deadly silence as footsteps began to echo.

Too frightened to sneak a peak; I stood there quiet.

My eyes fixated at my baby pink tinted fluffy slipper cladded feet.

Shadows reflected onto the surface of the dusty wooden flooring; my orbs following their every motion as I felt them nearing me.

My lungs felt full, my heart began beating like a drum as I could feel the blood pounding in my head.

I forced my eyes shut and hung my head, in an attempt to calm myself.

I desperately began to think of way to get out of this place but continuously failed.

Well I could sneak out using the boxes as a refuge but I was certain that it wouldn't be a pretty sight if I got caught, what if these bad guys killed me with their huge knifes and their loaded guns.

Oh no!

What if mum and dad never find me, what if I never see them again?

I didn't even get to hug mum and dad or wave my stinky selfish brothers a goodbye.

Haha after that stunt I pulled on Aman several days back, I was certain he wouldn't wave back,

Instead he would victory dance all over the house and claim he'd take over my room once I left.

Lucas!

Shoot!

Yes!

I just had to think like Lucas.

He would definitely know how to get out of this situation.

I just have to pretend as if I'm him and think the way he does-.

"Well. Well. Well. What do we have here?"

An unbelievably familiar voice echoed in my ears bringing my thoughts to a halt.
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