Don't

Taken

I awake to darkness instead of light. My body is no longer bound down and I feel light headed. I no longer have a headache and my arms are warm, not numb.
I slowly sit up and look around the dark room. The bathroom door is cracked open, darkness inside, a low hum coming from the wall.
The darkness and silence scares me. I sit up completely and pull the light white sheets off my body. My legs are bound down with a black strap and are making me lose feeling in my calves.
I struggle with the straps until they pull loose. Blood rushes through my legs and and I sigh in relief. I get up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet touching the cold floor. I stand up, unhooking the tubes and creeping toward the curtain and slowly pull it back, peeking around it slyly.
Hospital beds line the wall behind the curtain, sick and wounded people laying on each one. Only one hospital bed stands out to me.
The hospital bed is empty but there's a huge spot of red on the white mattress. Horrified, I back up and go back into my hospital room. Darkness encases me like a blanket and I shiver at the cold.
For once, I long to be back at my house, not at this horror film. Back with my drunk mother, back with my sister, AWAY FROM THIS PLACE.
I shake my head and sit on the edge of the mattress, trying to sort through my memories. Suddenly they hit me like a bolt of electricity.
My head shoots up and I run out of t he hospital room, past the beds and down a random hall. I sprint past random doctors and nurses, who dodge out of my way and scream.
My head starts to get dizzed again and I shake it away. I have to find mom. I know my mom's a monster, but she's still my mom. And I love her no matter what.
I just know my real look is there somewhere. I just have to find her. I don't care that she's an alcoholic or child abusive. She's the only family I have and I can't stand being put up for adoption or living in a foster home. And poor Nita, what would happen to her? Where is she now? I can't imagine how scared she is right now.
I turn a corner and stop dead in my tracks. My mother sits before me, her head down and her hair covering her face. She sits in a chair while tall lean men talk to her softly.
I can't make out any of the conversation, the glass window must be soundproof.
I watch as my mother raises her head slowly, glowering at the man on her left. She glares at him and her lips move briefly.
The man writes something down and mom looks up. Her eyes land on me and sudden hatred passes over her tired expression. Her lips curl up in a snarl and she suddenly leaps from her chair, running straight for the door and screaming. She throws it open and runs after me. I scream and turn to run but the two men grab moms arms and yank her back.
They handcuff her and she screams in my face as they drag her back.
"You! You waste of life! You killed him! You killed him! It was your fault! I hate you! You did this to me! I wish you weren't my daughter!" she screams.
I lean against the wall in shock. The men pull away my mother and she continues to struggle and scream but I'm not listening. My heart pounds in my ears and I sway on my feet as I walk back down the hall.
Tears run down my face and blur my vision. I reach my room and lean against the bed, burrowing my face in the cushions.
I sub harder than I ever have, the bed soaking around my face. My chest heaves and my breathing comes out is raspy gasps. Pains shoot across my chest and right to my heart, like a knife slowly sliding and splitting it in two.
I feel hands on my back and head soft words being whispered to me but I ignore them. I know I shouldn't listen to mom, but the problem is, she's right.
***
I know my father's death was shocking but it wasn't a complete accident. A few weeks before he had died, I'd gotten in a fight with him and told him he should just go. I hadn't meant it but he was taken aback by it.
Next thing you know, he was gone. It was the last thing I ever got to say to him. I didn't even have the chance to tell him I was sorry. Or that I didn't mean it. But I know that words can hurt sometimes.
***
I wake up on a black leather couch with a grey wool blanket draped over my shoulders. The sun is shiny through my only window and the room is quiet.
I get up and look around. The room is empty and my bed is clean and washed.
There's a suddenly knock on the wall that makes me jump.
"Amara Fenton? Are you awake?" a male voice calls.
I sit up and make out a shadow behind the white curtain.
"Uh, yeah I'm awake," I rasp hoarsely.
The curtain slides open and the two men I saw with my mother slide in.
They sit on the bed across from me and take out notebooks with pens. The taller one has blue eyes, black hair, and a scar above his left lip. The other guy has green eyes and is a bit chubby with blind waves and a friendly smile.
They both look at me and the blind one greets me.
"Hello Amara how are you?" he asks.
I shrug and sit back.
"Oh good. Well my name is Officer Daniel and this is Officer Jay. As were here to ask you a few questions. That sound good?" he asks.
I nod and take a deep breath.
"Sure," I gurgle, my voice nearly gone.
"Pardon?" Officer Daniel asks.
I clear my throat. "Sure," I repeat.
He nods and Officer Jax looks at me with a smile.
"Amara, who do you live with?" he Asks.
"My mom and my little sister," I reply.
He scribbles down on his paper.
"And do you have a father?" he asks.
"No. He died four years ago," I respond.
"Oh. And did you go through the stages of grief?"
"No,"
"Alright then. Are you feeling like you need any type of therapy?"
"No why? I'm fine,"
"Just asking,"
"Whatever,"
He writes down a few notes and looks at me over his blue rimmed glasses.
"Now Amara, the doctors told me you had numerous infections and wounds on your arms. Do you want to tell me where they're  from?" Officer Daniel asks.
I shake my head and look away.
"Why not?" he asks.
I shake my head again and clear my throat.
"I can't say," I reply.
"Are you too scared you'll be in trouble?"
"No it's just...,"
"Yes?"
"Never mind,"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
I'm getting quite aggrivated with his pushiness. I cross my arms and glare at him
"Why do you need to know?" I demand.
He sighs and holds out his hand.
"May I?" he asks.
I nod and place my tiny hand in his. He gazes at my unwrapped arms that are covered in bright red scrapes and purple bruises.
"Amara," Daniel says.
I look up.
"Did your mother do this?" he asks.
I look down and pull my arm away, nodding slowly.
"Oh my. Would you mind giving me details?" he asks.
"Well, when my dad died, mom got all weird. She started drinking and ignoring us for the rest of our lives. And when we got in trouble, she would hurt us and tell us we were worthless brats and stuff," I say, my eyes fixed in the floor.
"Thank you Amara," Daniel says and stands up. he walks to the curtain and starts to pull it open.
"Wait!" I say.
He turn to look at me.
"What's gonna happen to me? To my sister? To my mom?" I ask, tears swelling.
He sighs.
"That's for the court to discuss," he replies sadly, then exits the room, leaving me lost in my own fear and worry.