THE PRODIGIES

Chapter V

Darkness.

That's all I see and for a second, I think that I'm dead. I'm thinking about what happened downtown. I'm thinking about my sisters and how my last memory was of them unconscious on the ground. Their bodies looked lifeless despite their breathing. That thought disappears as I feel my chest rising. Reality comes flooding back. I breathe in and out, in and out. I try to calm my nerves by focusing on my breathing and it seems to help. That is, until I hear tapping.

It continues in a smooth beat. I haven't opened my eyes yet. I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to face anyone or anything, but I need to open them to see where I'm at. The last thing I remember is being on the ground downtown, during this "storm".

Gaining my senses back, I can tell that I'm not still laying down outside because my body is on something soft. It feels familiar. It smells like home. It smells like peony and berry bliss. It smells like our automatic air freshener dispenser. I can even hear it.

But that wouldn't be possible, unless someone brought me here. Maybe we got really drunk last night and this was all a dream.

I try to move my arms. They budge even though I feel weak. I can still feel that my shoes are on my feet. The plastic of the poncho clings to my skin. This is the most uncomfortable way to sleep. I can't seem to move as easily as I want to. My eyes are still bolted shut as I try to maneuver to a sitting position. Instead of sitting up, I decide to remain where I'm at with my eyes still closed. It'll give me time to think before I get up.

Are we really home? Was the storm just a dream? What the hell happened?

"Are you gonna come over? They still haven't woken up yet." There's a pause. "We can take them to the facility from here."

I hear a woman a few feet away from me and because there's a pause and no audible response, I assume she's on the phone. Whoever it is, sounds concerned. Concerned about what though? I don't know, but there's a sense of urgency in her tone. It almost sounds as if she's scared or unsure of herself. The voice isn't familiar. I would've easily recognized it. I do know that it's a woman. Not someone our age. Maybe in her 40s and Caucasian.

Who is she talking to? I pray it's not some pimp. I do not want to be forced to sell my body for money. I'm only 19 years old. There's so much I haven't done yet. Please don't let it be a pimp.

"We're at the Pine Lake Apartments, 206B."

That's our address. We are home. This lady just gave our address to an unidentifiable person, possibly a pimp. How did she even know this is where we live?

I slowly try to open my eyes. It takes a little time. I don't feel like myself. This feels like an out of body experience. I don't feel the same way I felt before I blacked out. My body feels foreign. I'm a stranger inside of my own body. I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the light. Everything's blurry at first but soon enough, I can see clearly. It looks as if it's a new day. The sun is peeping through the blinds indicating that in fact, it is a new day. However, I don't know what day it is. The "storm" could've happened last night or the night before. I have no idea.

With my eyes now open, I slowly turn my head to see if I can spot my sisters in the living room but I don't see them. So maybe they're in their rooms passed out. I hope they're in the apartment. I hope I'm not alone.

I start to sit up as quietly as I can. I turn towards the direction I heard the voice coming from. Sure enough, the mysterious woman is in our tiny kitchen with her back turned. She slightly turns to the side, but I'm not able to see her full face. She has dark, long hair. She has her phone in her hand, typing something. It sounds like she's talking to herself. My first thought is that we've been kidnapped. That immediately leaves my mind because any smart criminal wouldn't bring us back to our own apartment. At least I wouldn't do that if the roles were reversed. I would take my victim somewhere unfamiliar to them. That way it'll be harder for them to escape.