Story #40: Branded

Branded

     A million thoughts raced through my mind as I dashed through the busy streets of

Chicago, dragging my little brother Tucker along with me. My breath showed in the

frigid air as I panted tiredly, my insides were screaming for me to stop sprinting. We

couldn’t stop running though. To stop and catch a breath would mean a more terrible

punishment than running for me and Tucker. I could not believe that I was in this

situation.

     Earlier that same day, I had been walking with my little brother up my long, gravel

driveway to the bus stop. There were cornfields on both sides of the road so while

sometimes it gave the me the feeling of peacefully being kept from the rest of the world,

other times I felt a little cornered.

     While walking down the road, I was feeling trapped. Earlier I had woken up to the

yipping of coyotes so the cornfields look menacing, and I kept thinking about how they

could be infested with coyotes, ready to attack. In fact, I was attacked. . . just not by

coyotes, instead by a menacing old man carrying a huge butcher knife.

     Tucker was the first to see him and also the first to scream. My body immediately

went into high alert and flee mode, the only thing that stopped me from dashing away

was the fact my sweet little brother was still standing there yelling with fear. That

moment that I paused and saw Tucker standing still and screaming, was the same

moment I saw the horrendous elderly man walking with the gleaming knife. The

dreadful man was wearing a toothless smile, and the hand that was clinging to the

knife was scarred and wrinkled, he was uglier than a nasty, wrinkled bat.

     After the second it took to process all this I yanked Tucker’s hand and attempted

running back towards my house. My first instinct had been to go home, but I realized

my mom wouldn’t be able to fend off a crazy man with a butcher knife, so I switched

ways and headed towards the road hoping to catch a car with someone inside that

could help. I didn’t make it very far. Partly because Tucker was still frozen and

screeching, and partly because at that point the old man had caught up and was now

holding a rag over my mouth.

     Gagging I felt myself slipping away. I could feel my blood draining from my face and

I felt lightheaded, black dots danced in my eyes. The last image I saw before I totally

passed out was my precious, innocent brother sobbing.

     I woke up in pitch black, which certainly frightened me. I absolutely couldn’t stand

not being able to see what was around me. The floor and walls were both cement, cold,

and damp. I figured I was in a basement. I was honestly afraid that I would die, my

whole body was quivering with fear, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if I threw up.

Then my thoughts flew to Tucker, I needed to find him, save him.

     “Tucker, honey? Are you there?” I whispered. There was no response

     This time, talking in a louder voice I called, “Tucker, sweetie? It’s Sophie, please

answer me,” this time I heard a shuffling from somewhere in the black, void space.

     “Sophie, where are you? I’m scared”

     His voice was so quiet, I just barely caught his words.

     “I’m over here, follow my voice.” After a few minutes of trying to talk him towards me

one of his searching hands grasped my outreached hand. I quickly pulled him into my

lap, squeezing him as close to me as was physically possible.

     After a while, I knew it was time to act.

     “Tucker, we need to try to escape.”

     “I can’t, I’m scared Soph.”

     “Honey, that man is a bad man. We don’t want to stay around to see what he has

planned for us. Understand?”

     “Yeah” Tucker was now shaking, probably thinking of that morning’s traumatic

experience.

     I was blinded by light as a door was flung open from above. As I saw my

surroundings I screamed. Hanging from the ceiling were bags of blood, exactly the

same as the ones that donated blood goes into.

     I felt Tucker squirming, and as I look back down at him I realized I had been

clutching his arms way too tight. I let go instantly, and felt terrible as I saw the red

marks my fingers had left behind. Tucker took my hand, and gently squeezed, silently

telling me it was okay. Squinting back towards the door opening, I saw the frightening

old man standing there.

     “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” said the crazy man, wheezing somehow in a

threatening way. “I’m going to have you working here, at my house. Oh boy, do I have

tons of work for you two brats to do!” His eyes were gleaming and open wide, if he

opened them any wider they would pop out.

     “First though, before I make you worthless children work, I have to own you. Away

we go, follow me!” He then did a sort of half laugh, stopping short as he spun on his

heels and sauntered away.

     There was no way I was going to follow this psycho anywhere, which I believe he

came to that conclusion also. He reappeared, this time holding a rag.

     “My my. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Totally up to you.”

I knew I would rather be awake, I clambered up hurriedly. Maybe I would get a

chance to escape while going to wherever he was taking us? Gripping Tucker’s sweaty

hand tightly, I followed the insane man. We were taken into his garage, that smelled

strongly of smoke and were shoved into the backseat of his car.

     He sped dangerously into the street. I looked around, and I was quite shocked to

see towers everywhere I looked. I recognized one tower looming above the others, the

Sears Tower, we were in Chicago. This scared me a lot, I was quite a ways from home.

Too soon we were being forcefully escorted into a tattoo parlor. I hated the thought

of getting a tattoo, it was too painful, too permanent, and I hated needles of all kinds.

Therefore, walking into this sketchy looking tattoo place, I was pretty shaky. We were

thrust into a dim back room that had a more depressing feel than a funeral home.

     “Kay, listen up buttercups!” said the old man. “You’re gonna have my name tattooed

on your arm. Alrighty, bye-bye now!” He casually strode from the room, as if he hadn’t

just dropped a bomb.

     Tucker, who was six, probably didn’t realize the scariness of what the old man had

just said. Being six, he was probably thinking about the temporary tattoos that easily

wash off after a couple of days. I was frightened out of my mind, but I had no clue what

to do.

     Right as the simple, obvious idea of running away crossed my mind, a huge

muscular man with many tattoos shuffled into the room.

     “Hey, I’m Rick.” he grunted.

     He then roughly grabbed Tucker and pushed him onto the chair.

     “No!” I gasped. “Do not touch him.”

     Rick didn’t even glance at me, he simply drew out a long thin needle from a drawer.

While he was busy assembling the torture device, I jumped onto his back. This clearly

took him by surprise, and as he tripped forwards, his huge bear hands grasped at his

back. He latched onto my shirt, and threw me to the ground with the force of ten

elephants. It knocked the breath out of me, and I desperately gasped for air.

     All of the sudden, I was the one being forced on the chair, and Tucker was the one

screaming my name. The same time I caught my breath and had the chance to take in

what was happening, was at the same time the needle entered my skin. I howled as

pain shot through my arm, I thrashed around trying to escape. No such luck, someone

with rather wrinkly hands was holding me down as Rick forever ruined my skin. I

wailed, I shrieked, I screamed bloody-murder, the pain just kept on coming.

     After a while I was being pushed onto the floor, my arm stinging. But all that pain

ceased, when I heard the most blood-curdling scream come from my baby brother’s

mouth. I acted right away.

     My two capturers were too busy holding down Tucker and scarring his skin, so they

didn’t even see me move towards the butcher knife laying on the floor. I grasped it in

my hand, and without even thinking twice I shoved it through the crazy old man’s heart.

Rick was staring at me in shock and horror, but before he could make a single move, I

had pulled the knife out of the old man and had planted it in Rick’s heart also.

     I turned then to Tucker, ready to comfort him. Luckily, his eyes had been squeezed

tightly shut the whole time, he hadn’t seen anything. That’s when I heard the sirens.

At first I was relieved, but then I realized I had just killed two people. I grabbed

Tucker’s arm and we ran for it.

     I couldn’t believe I was in this situation at all, running through the crowded streets

running from the police. What had I done? I saw an empty alley and quickly dove into it.

I sat with my back against the cold brick wall and pulled Tucker into my lap, just as I

had done in the blood filled basement earlier.

     “Everything’s going to be just fine,” I whispered confidently to him. “Just fine.”

Glancing down at my right arm I saw the black letters standing out against my red,

raw skin. Four letters was all. . . Paul.