The Painting

#32 Doubt Part 2 - Amhras Cuid 2

I was too stunned to resist as Smith and Jones dragged me away out a side door I hadn't noticed earlier that morning. We entered an alley way that guarded the sunshine who retreated behind the building.

"Take her out back." Monroe had ordered in the deserted lobby. The words hadn't registered with me until now, perhaps because they didn't seem like a sentence a real person would say.

The only time I ever heard someone utter that dismissive statement I was usually sat in front of the TV watching a crime drama with Grace. Up until now I thought only mobsters and hit men were allowed to order someone to be 'taken out back'.

Learn something new everyday. Though from the looks of Smith and Jones I wasn't sure if I was going to get another day, but I wasn't sure if I cared.

I'd gotten my answer hadn't I? Monroe basically confessed his actions, and even though I couldn't bring myself to think what exactly that meant, in my gut I knew. I'd known my whole life I suppose, just never fully wanted to admit it to myself. My mother was dead. Now here I was, about to meet the same fate with the question that defined me for so long answered.

Curiosity.

That was what made my mother go back to Monroe, sure maybe love played a part in it but curiosity bore a larger hand than she admitted. It was a curiosity that wondered if she and Monroe could make it work, if their love was strong enough. I laughed to myself, she could have had all the love in the world but it wouldn't have come close to balancing out the pure evil that resided in that man.

Abruptly my thoughts were cut off as a thick cotton rag made contact with my face and nose. Instinctively I clawed at the material trying to tear away the hand that held it tightly, restricting my air flow.

Desperately I looked around, to my left Smith leaned against the cement wall apathetically while lighting a cigarette. That meant Jones was the one with a muscled arm around my middle. The strong smell of paint thinner flooded my senses, was I being drugged or suffocated?

There was no time to debate it, I opened my mouth to scream but my voice was muffled. A rush of adrenaline fueled my system and my limbs flailed wildly at the impulse of my fight or flight instinct. One such motion landed contact with Jones' stomach, his grip loosened ever so slightly as my elbow contact his ribs and I repeated the action in over again until he released my arms.

Ripping the cloth from my mouth I took off down the alley way rounding the corner as quickly as I could. The sun hit me as I took a right and sprinted down the empty block. My lungs burned with the chemicals I was forced to inhale and with each breath I felt weaker. Hopelessly I searched for an open shop or a by stander, but the street was wickedly empty with only dark apartment buildings lining the sidewalks.

Heavy footsteps from Smith and Jones outpaced my own and I could feel them closing in. I rounded another corner and stumbled. Dizziness set in and I struggled to gain my footing. My mind teetered on the edge confusing my vision and the buildings in front of me multiplied as my fingers went numb.

Was I going to die here?

I managed another few steps before a figure appeared in front of me, a finger on their lips as they pulled me quietly into an adjacent alley way.

Lyle? 

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