MISSING - Episode Seven

IT was dark when Eunice awoke. For several seconds she lay still, disoriented and lost to any understanding of where she was or what had happened to her. Her head throbbed and she rubbed it furiously. Slowly, details from before filtered into her mind. She remembered the voices and the sharp pain she’d felt before losing consciousness. She jerked up and used her hands to feel around the cold floor, choking on the stale and stuffy air. Just as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, the only door that led to the room was flung open. Before her stood a man, who looked like anyone’s worst nightmare.

Light flooded the room, and she was part grateful for the sight. She stared at the towering man who stood a few feet from her and was sure that he was one of the men she’d seen that night, but instead of the bushy face she’d spotted, his was clean shaven. He looked even more menacing, with an icy stare which pierced into her soul.

He stretched a bowl to her, but she didn’t move. So, he walked up to her and dropped it on the floor with a sneer. He then turned and walked off without speaking, slamming the door behind him. The room was dark once again, leaving her heightened to her state. She felt sticky and sweaty, and choked in repulsion when she dared to sniff her clothes. It was even worse with the suffocating smell of the room.

Her head still throbbed, and she rubbed the swelling at the back of it. She felt herself get angry at the absurdity of the situation and the callousness with which she’d been treated.

‘Couldn’t they have just put their hands over my mouth or something, like they do in movies? That would have been less painful.’

The words had hardly left her mouth when the seriousness of the situation weighed in on her. Curiousity kills the cat, they say, and it had landed her in trouble. She had gotten too close to something she had no business with. She just wished she could explain to her abductors that she did not hear anything substantial, but nobody was asking questions.

The door opened, and there stood the man again, but this time, he was with a boy who stood a head taller than the door's handle. The boy walked in and headed straight for the corner opposite hers.

The man observed her for a few minutes and twitched his nose, as if repelling the obvious smell. He hesitated, then walked into the room and opened a window which she’d not seen under the dark curtain that covered it. The open window offered some relief from the stuffy air, and she almost screamed her thanks at him.

Again wordlessly, the man walked out, leaving her alone with the little boy who now hugged himself and stared at her like she had a communicable disease. She didn't blame him, considering the circumstances. She breathed deeply and she choked again, the sharp smell although better, still stung her nose and throat.

She looked at the boy who stared at her warily, his chin resting on his raised knees.

'Hello…' Eunice uttered hesitantly. All she got was his silent stare.

'My name is Eunice, what’s yours?' The boy made no move to answer.

'Uh, okay. How did you get here?'

When she didn’t get a response again, Eunice stood and walked towards him. When she got close she realised that he was trembling.

'Good Lord! You’re shaking.' She squatted and reached to touch his cheek. He shrunk back and buried his face in his knees.

'It’s okay. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you. I promise. Just look at me please.' The boy looked up with tired, pleading brown eyes, and his face relaxed a bit, though he still trembled. Eunice touched his shirt and felt its lightness.

'Are you cold?' He nodded affirmatively. She sat beside him and stretched her hands to him. He hesitated a bit, before acquiescing. She then wrapped her arms around him and rocked gently.

‘You’ll be okay. Just relax. He nodded again, snuggled softly in her arms and soon drifted off to sleep. Eunice felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept, and felt an emptiness which made her shudder. She thought about her family and friends and wondered what they were up to now. At the thought, all the strength she’d been holding on to, gave way to despair, as she began to cry, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as tears streamed down her face.’

The boy stirred in her arms and she sniffled, trying to stem her tears. He was awake.

‘Why are you crying?’ his voice was low and shaky. She shook her head from side to side.

‘No I’m not, don’t worry, I’m fine… we’re fine.’ She sounded unconvincing even to herself.

‘My name is Ehioze, he whispered, answering the question she asked before he slept.

Her eyes lit up with hope. He was responding!

‘Oh great! She smiled.

‘How old are you Ehioze and how did you get here?’

He shrunk away from her, and buried his head in his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was light and trembled.

‘I’m 9-years old…there’s something you need to know.’

‘Oh what’

‘They will kill you,' he trembled more violently this time.

'Uh…why do they want to kill me?' her voice shook.

'…because big daddy ordered them to.'