Disastrous

4

We got inside and the house was silent.  Hopefully Colby wouldn’t mention that I tried to run away, simply because it was embarrassing.  

Colby shut the door behind him, and checked the clock that could clearly be seen in the dark due to its digital glow, “Ah fuck it,” He muttered before yelling up the stairs, “Let’s go guys! We’re leaving!”

These boys must live in fear of this man, because within minutes they were downstairs, rubbing their eyes as they put on their shoes.  “It’s been like two hours,” Corey complained, “We aren’t supposed to leave until five,”

“Yeah, well the cops will be on to us if we don’t leave soon, and we can’t have that,” Colby glanced over at me before leading the boys out of the house.

I followed, almost instinctively at this point even though none of them looked behind to see if I was going with them.

There was another car, one I didn’t notice before, that Sam was unlocking and throwing Colby the keys.

This one was an SUV, and compared to the van it was much more luxurious and comfortable though the rust on the side of it was glowing in the dim moonlight.

It was a given that I sat in the middle, so I couldn’t jump out and so that Colby could see over my head when he looked through the rearview mirror.  I wasn’t much shorter than the others, but compared to Jake and Colby I was tiny.  I hardly stood to be five-foot five, but I’m positive Jake is at least six feet tall.

The drive was silent, with Corey sleeping and no radio on, there was nothing to do.  I didn’t quite warm up to the others yet, besides Sam maybe but I could tell he was watching Colby closely.  Their “leader” had given no reason as to why we were leaving nearly three hours early, and the possibility of something being wrong was always in the back of their minds.

Soon it would be in the back of my mind, too.

I didn’t know what this life would be like.  I assume that as soon as I get back to wherever they call home I will be shot, killed, just like that.

Deep down the thought made me wish I disobeyed my mother just this one time.

They probably knew by now that my grandfather was dead.  Mother or my sister probably went to check why I was taken so long and found him there, his bloody, lifeless body.

I brought my hand to my mouth, unable to get the picture of him laying on the living room floor out of my mind.  I didn’t look over at him directly, but I could see Jake’s face out of the corner of my eye, who was looking at Sam with a confused expression.

“She’s grieving,” He whispered, “Leave her alone,”

I looked up at the rearview mirror, the only thing in the vehicle I could look at that I couldn’t see anybody else.  Or so I thought.

Colby was looking at me through the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable.  I didn’t want him or anyone else to think I was weak, I should have known better than to let my emotions overwhelm me here.

“I’m fine,” I sniffed, wiping my eyes, “I’m fine, really,” I shot a grin over at Jake, hoping to convince him more than myself.

“You sure?” Jake asked, his eyebrows slightly tilted as he looked at me, “You’re allowed to be sad,”

“She said she’s fine,” Colby snapped, glaring at his friend through the mirror, “Now leave her alone,”

Jake obeyed, going back to looking out the window without much more than a breath leaving his lips.  Corey was still asleep beside me, and for a moment it reminded me that these boys were all human.

They were only human, and humans make mistakes.  Some mistakes are worse than others, apparently.

That thought alone gave sympathy to these boys.  Even Colby, who seemed like he was this man, a cold murderer who didn’t care about anything or anyone.

I wonder what his childhood was like, how his mother was or if she was the person who helped make him into what he is today.  All of these boys, at one point, were just little five year olds playing with action figures.  The stories they listened to at school, the people they sat with in lunch when their parents might have packed their lunches.

There was a point in all of their lives when all of these boys were innocent, just like me.  

Now, here they are.  One of them, with a sleeve of tattoos peeking out of his jacket.  Another with artificially dark hair, and another that was dyed but not quite as dark.  The last one with a bun, making him appear to be the most childish out of them all.

My goal while I’m with them is to find that good again.  I want them to know that there is still something in them worth fighting for, even if it’s buried under years of secrets and partying and murder and alcohol.

I’m not sure if these boys drank but I wouldn’t put it past them.  I didn’t drink, simply because my mother never brought me around alcohol.  I didn’t know if it was the religion she believed in or our heritage, but even the people we were around never drank.

They never swore, confessed to crimes or did drugs.  They hardly used electronics, and most men worked while the women stayed home.  Marriages were oftentimes arranged, though my mother gave me leniency with that one and told me that I could be married to whoever I wanted to be.

Though she still threatens that if I do something wrong she’ll take away that privilege.  I wonder how that’d work if I never was going to see her again.

Let’s face it, the chances of me getting away from these boys and this new life is slim.  I’ll probably just end up doing all their housework if I live long enough.

Maybe if I behave I won’t have to sleep in the basement.

But even if I did figure out a plan to escape, I couldn’t go home.  If they want me so desperately, that’ll be the first place they look.

And if I go somewhere, then I don’t want to be found.

No matter what, I couldn’t make plans until I got to their house and saw the layout.  I’d have to memorize it, and where all their cameras were if they had any.  

I’d have to disable them all and escape when I’m home alone.

And I’d have to earn their trust to be home alone.

Or else I’ll never leave.

There’s this little thought in the back of my mind,  that if I see the place and the life they live,

I’ll never want to leave.

But that won’t happen, I won’t let it.