The phone rang, followed by a knock at the door. At that moment, I knew what I had to do. Rushing to unplug the phone, I catch a glimpse of the caller ID. Fear ties a knot in the pit of my stomach and makes my blood run cold. They’re calling again. They are waiting for me.
Dashing through house, avoiding any windows, I navigate my way to my closet. I shove my clothes aside and place my palm on a spot in the bottom right corner of my closet wall. It looks no different from the rest of the wall, but it’s very different in purpose
Waiting for the DNA, fingerprint, and retina tests to be complete is 60 seconds of pure agony. Waiting the next 60 is even more torturous. I try to not let my mind wander towards the steady and relentless pounding on my front door.
Panic begins to settle in my mind. I won’t get out. They’ll get tired of waiting and come in themselves and find me. Oh God, ohgodohgodohgodohgod ...
It takes a few seconds for the sharp trilling of the mobile phone to fully register in my distracted mind. I stand half-in and half-out of my closet, staring at the brightly lit screen uncomprehendingly for a few moments before I stagger forward and grip it tightly in my hands. I consider not answering it, but curiosity winds over and I hold the foreign device up close to my ear. “Hello?” My breathless voice is barely above a whisper.
“You know what we want. It would be unwise to hide in there any longer,” a fierce, raspy voice growls into the phone.
“I have no idea what you want!” The fear in my voice is unmistakable, the lie clearly illuminated.
“Lying would be unwise. You have one minute to decide, or we will come and get you. Choose wisely.” The line shuts off with a click.
Now in full panic mode, convinced I will never make it out alive, I spin around my room, grabbing random belongings and shoving them unceremoniously into a duffel bag. I have no idea what I am grabbing, and it carries no importance. More than anything, it’s to keep my mind off the impending doom hovering over my head. My mobile phone beeps. A text message. Cautiously, as if it might detonate if I drop it, I push a button on the phone. 45 seconds. -Them
Dropping everything in my hands, I stumble over towards my closet, my eyes blurring in my haste. I’ve been trained for obstacles like this, but no amount of preparation could prepare me for the helplessness I feel now. Staring at the numbers on the timer of the panel, my mind goes numb. 30 ... 29 ...28 ... 27 ... The knocking on the door stops, only to pick up with a hammering and a sharp squealing of protesting nails being ripped from their hinges. 26 ... 25 ... 24 ... They’re almost here ... I need more time, just a bit more ... 23 ... 22 ... just a moment ... processing ... 15 ... 14 ... 13 ... The pounding of heavy footfalls becomes more prominent. They will be here in just a few seconds. 7 ... 6 ... processing ... 4 ... processing ... 2 ... They’re outside my door, pushing against the restraints I put against the door to keep it in place. I can hear it reaching its breaking point.
Click.
It’s open. Looping my half-packed duffel bag around the crook of my elbow, I shove violently against the back wall of my closet. It caves inward into a small cavity. I push through it and slam the door behind me. Right as it closes with an almost inaudible click, my bedroom door come bursting out. I hear heavy footsteps searching my room. Barely breathing, I turn to head down a small and narrow passageway when a realization hits me full in the face like a ton of bricks.
My bag is caught in the door.
Silently panicking, I pull and tug at the duffel bag, panicking more when I hear the footsteps coming closer towards the door. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod ...
The footsteps stop ... A beeping starts ...
Dropping the duffel bag, I scramble backwards in a crab-crawl, desperate to get away from the door before it blows me apart with the door.
Beep ... beep ... beepbeepbeep ... beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep ... BOOM.
A wave of heat and fire washes over me and I cover my face to protect it. Blindly crawling backwards, I try and find my way towards the tunnel. I can smell clothes burning but I don’t stop to put them out. Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go. Tears stream down my dirty face, leaving trails in the filth.
A hand reaches out and wraps itself around my neck like a vice. Squealing and in a full panic, I try to wiggle my way free.
I raise my eyes and look into the cold, black ones staring back at me. There is no face anymore, just me and those eyes. A raspy voice scratches my ears like nails on a chalkboard.
“Give it to me.”
Black spots appear on my vision. Pulling a last, shaky breath, I shake my head.
Everything goes black.
Dashing through house, avoiding any windows, I navigate my way to my closet. I shove my clothes aside and place my palm on a spot in the bottom right corner of my closet wall. It looks no different from the rest of the wall, but it’s very different in purpose
Waiting for the DNA, fingerprint, and retina tests to be complete is 60 seconds of pure agony. Waiting the next 60 is even more torturous. I try to not let my mind wander towards the steady and relentless pounding on my front door.
Panic begins to settle in my mind. I won’t get out. They’ll get tired of waiting and come in themselves and find me. Oh God, ohgodohgodohgodohgod ...
It takes a few seconds for the sharp trilling of the mobile phone to fully register in my distracted mind. I stand half-in and half-out of my closet, staring at the brightly lit screen uncomprehendingly for a few moments before I stagger forward and grip it tightly in my hands. I consider not answering it, but curiosity winds over and I hold the foreign device up close to my ear. “Hello?” My breathless voice is barely above a whisper.
“You know what we want. It would be unwise to hide in there any longer,” a fierce, raspy voice growls into the phone.
“I have no idea what you want!” The fear in my voice is unmistakable, the lie clearly illuminated.
“Lying would be unwise. You have one minute to decide, or we will come and get you. Choose wisely.” The line shuts off with a click.
Now in full panic mode, convinced I will never make it out alive, I spin around my room, grabbing random belongings and shoving them unceremoniously into a duffel bag. I have no idea what I am grabbing, and it carries no importance. More than anything, it’s to keep my mind off the impending doom hovering over my head. My mobile phone beeps. A text message. Cautiously, as if it might detonate if I drop it, I push a button on the phone. 45 seconds. -Them
Dropping everything in my hands, I stumble over towards my closet, my eyes blurring in my haste. I’ve been trained for obstacles like this, but no amount of preparation could prepare me for the helplessness I feel now. Staring at the numbers on the timer of the panel, my mind goes numb. 30 ... 29 ...28 ... 27 ... The knocking on the door stops, only to pick up with a hammering and a sharp squealing of protesting nails being ripped from their hinges. 26 ... 25 ... 24 ... They’re almost here ... I need more time, just a bit more ... 23 ... 22 ... just a moment ... processing ... 15 ... 14 ... 13 ... The pounding of heavy footfalls becomes more prominent. They will be here in just a few seconds. 7 ... 6 ... processing ... 4 ... processing ... 2 ... They’re outside my door, pushing against the restraints I put against the door to keep it in place. I can hear it reaching its breaking point.
Click.
It’s open. Looping my half-packed duffel bag around the crook of my elbow, I shove violently against the back wall of my closet. It caves inward into a small cavity. I push through it and slam the door behind me. Right as it closes with an almost inaudible click, my bedroom door come bursting out. I hear heavy footsteps searching my room. Barely breathing, I turn to head down a small and narrow passageway when a realization hits me full in the face like a ton of bricks.
My bag is caught in the door.
Silently panicking, I pull and tug at the duffel bag, panicking more when I hear the footsteps coming closer towards the door. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod ...
The footsteps stop ... A beeping starts ...
Dropping the duffel bag, I scramble backwards in a crab-crawl, desperate to get away from the door before it blows me apart with the door.
Beep ... beep ... beepbeepbeep ... beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep ... BOOM.
A wave of heat and fire washes over me and I cover my face to protect it. Blindly crawling backwards, I try and find my way towards the tunnel. I can smell clothes burning but I don’t stop to put them out. Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go. Tears stream down my dirty face, leaving trails in the filth.
A hand reaches out and wraps itself around my neck like a vice. Squealing and in a full panic, I try to wiggle my way free.
I raise my eyes and look into the cold, black ones staring back at me. There is no face anymore, just me and those eyes. A raspy voice scratches my ears like nails on a chalkboard.
“Give it to me.”
Black spots appear on my vision. Pulling a last, shaky breath, I shake my head.
Everything goes black.