I've been writing this section over the past few days.
Minerva, Cuitadella's foster mother and Cuitadella have been kidnapped. Cuitadella is 6 years old and they have taken the two of them to an old abandoned warehouse.
Tony. Tony Fitz. This was the man I quickly learnt to fear. Who haunted my dreams, as well as my waking thoughts. Who I hated more than any other man alive. Who I wanted dead. Who killed so many of my dreams.
Tony dragged us down some stairs into a damp, dark cramped room underground. There he tied us up against the walls, me against one, Min the other. It was like a type of emotional torture, being able to see each other, but not able to touch. My hands were bound behind my back, pulling my shoulders forward, so I was in a slightly hunched sitting position, it hurt the muscles in my arms, as they were not use to being in such an unusual position. The rope wrapped around my middle tied me to a wooden pole, which stretched up to support the floor of the warehouse. Min was tied in the same position, the pain it was causing her was evident on her face. But even so she still managed to smile weakly at me, trying her best to reassure me that everything would be okay. Yet I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. I whispered to her “It will be okay Min, everything will be okay, I love you”. I received a smack round my cheeks for my trouble. But that wasn’t what worried me, what worried me was what I had said. Because I didn’t believe it myself. So how could I expect her too.
What advantage was love when they had knives and guns, and could kill you in a mere instant? Love couldn’t stop a bullet. Love couldn’t heal a knife wound. Love couldn’t help us escape from here. Love couldn’t defend us from the pain they could inflict on us. What use was love when we were facing death?
After Tony had tied us up and Andrew had left us, at Tony’s orders, Tony drew a knife out of his pocket and advanced towards Min. My heart skipped a beat and I felt the fear rise up in my throat, as well as a scream, but I stopped it from escaping. I didn’t want Min, or Tony to see how afraid I was. Then, just as he was began to lower the knife down towards her throat he whirled around to face me, and taking to massive strides forward he drew close and bent down, looking me in the eyes he said menacingly “You, Cuitadella will now die. Saldinio may not have killed you like he did your parents, but I will”. The threat didn’t register. All I concentrated on was Saldinio, the name of the man who had stolen my parents from me four years ago. I finally knew who had murdered them.
Suddenly my focus snapped back to the present, as the knife he was holding sliced through my skin. Cutting a straight line from my right shoulder to left hip. All I could think about what how cold the blade was against my skin. The pain I didn’t notice. Not until he had finished cutting the line, and then I saw my blood dripping off the knife, creating a crimson pool on the ground in front of me. It was only then that I realized what he had done, and the pain flooded through my brain, releasing an anguished scream. One that was echoed by Min who had watched with horrified eyes. I looked up at Tony, standing triumphant above me and vowed not to fall into deaths clutches through his actions. I vowed to live.
He left and I slumped slightly, letting my head fall forward and the pain filled me down to my bones, consuming the core of me. Then I heard Min start to crying as she called out my name, so I lifted up my head once again and looked at her. Seeing her fearfully wide eyes I mentally shoved the pain down to the depths of my mind and managed to smile back at her, trying to convey that I was actually okay. But I don’t think that it was really working. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before, I wanted to surrender to it, just to fall into the relief of unconsciousness, but I didn’t want to leave Min alone and vulnerable. Not that I would be able to help, but she wouldn’t die alone. And I had no doubt that we would be dying today. I couldn’t understand why they wanted us dead, but I knew they did.
A moment or so later I managed to pluck up the courage to look down, and what I saw seriously disturbed me, and sent shivers down my spine.
The scar was long and straight, with clean cut edges that had ripped apart allowing the blood to fall in thick red ribbons to the floor. It had covered my clothes and had soaked through dying them the same dark red colour.
My top was in tatters the edges of them cut, frayed and broken. Just like I felt.
What do you think of it? Is it realistic enough? Believable? Would you read it? Comment and let me know!! Please!
Minerva, Cuitadella's foster mother and Cuitadella have been kidnapped. Cuitadella is 6 years old and they have taken the two of them to an old abandoned warehouse.
Tony. Tony Fitz. This was the man I quickly learnt to fear. Who haunted my dreams, as well as my waking thoughts. Who I hated more than any other man alive. Who I wanted dead. Who killed so many of my dreams.
Tony dragged us down some stairs into a damp, dark cramped room underground. There he tied us up against the walls, me against one, Min the other. It was like a type of emotional torture, being able to see each other, but not able to touch. My hands were bound behind my back, pulling my shoulders forward, so I was in a slightly hunched sitting position, it hurt the muscles in my arms, as they were not use to being in such an unusual position. The rope wrapped around my middle tied me to a wooden pole, which stretched up to support the floor of the warehouse. Min was tied in the same position, the pain it was causing her was evident on her face. But even so she still managed to smile weakly at me, trying her best to reassure me that everything would be okay. Yet I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. I whispered to her “It will be okay Min, everything will be okay, I love you”. I received a smack round my cheeks for my trouble. But that wasn’t what worried me, what worried me was what I had said. Because I didn’t believe it myself. So how could I expect her too.
What advantage was love when they had knives and guns, and could kill you in a mere instant? Love couldn’t stop a bullet. Love couldn’t heal a knife wound. Love couldn’t help us escape from here. Love couldn’t defend us from the pain they could inflict on us. What use was love when we were facing death?
After Tony had tied us up and Andrew had left us, at Tony’s orders, Tony drew a knife out of his pocket and advanced towards Min. My heart skipped a beat and I felt the fear rise up in my throat, as well as a scream, but I stopped it from escaping. I didn’t want Min, or Tony to see how afraid I was. Then, just as he was began to lower the knife down towards her throat he whirled around to face me, and taking to massive strides forward he drew close and bent down, looking me in the eyes he said menacingly “You, Cuitadella will now die. Saldinio may not have killed you like he did your parents, but I will”. The threat didn’t register. All I concentrated on was Saldinio, the name of the man who had stolen my parents from me four years ago. I finally knew who had murdered them.
Suddenly my focus snapped back to the present, as the knife he was holding sliced through my skin. Cutting a straight line from my right shoulder to left hip. All I could think about what how cold the blade was against my skin. The pain I didn’t notice. Not until he had finished cutting the line, and then I saw my blood dripping off the knife, creating a crimson pool on the ground in front of me. It was only then that I realized what he had done, and the pain flooded through my brain, releasing an anguished scream. One that was echoed by Min who had watched with horrified eyes. I looked up at Tony, standing triumphant above me and vowed not to fall into deaths clutches through his actions. I vowed to live.
He left and I slumped slightly, letting my head fall forward and the pain filled me down to my bones, consuming the core of me. Then I heard Min start to crying as she called out my name, so I lifted up my head once again and looked at her. Seeing her fearfully wide eyes I mentally shoved the pain down to the depths of my mind and managed to smile back at her, trying to convey that I was actually okay. But I don’t think that it was really working. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before, I wanted to surrender to it, just to fall into the relief of unconsciousness, but I didn’t want to leave Min alone and vulnerable. Not that I would be able to help, but she wouldn’t die alone. And I had no doubt that we would be dying today. I couldn’t understand why they wanted us dead, but I knew they did.
A moment or so later I managed to pluck up the courage to look down, and what I saw seriously disturbed me, and sent shivers down my spine.
The scar was long and straight, with clean cut edges that had ripped apart allowing the blood to fall in thick red ribbons to the floor. It had covered my clothes and had soaked through dying them the same dark red colour.
My top was in tatters the edges of them cut, frayed and broken. Just like I felt.
What do you think of it? Is it realistic enough? Believable? Would you read it? Comment and let me know!! Please!
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