Facing My Problems (Part 19)

I’ve never seen Andre look so dreadful. His attire worn was an exact replica of what he had on the night he assaulted me; his pants are horribly soiled from the knees down. He looks as if he had been slumming it the past few days. “What’s wrong Lucy, don’t you miss me? And who the hell is this?” Andre yelled. “Stay calm Lucy” detective Puerile said. “Shut the fuck up!” Andre says while swinging the gun directly in detective Puerile’s face. “Let’s go Lucy!” Andre grabs my arm then twists it behind my back, forcing me to back up into him as he makes his escape. “You follow me and I’ll kill the bitch, then I’ll come looking for your ass just for making me kill her!” Andre says speaking to detective Puerile. He pulls me into this old red beat up Mercury Cougar through the passenger side door. He then scoots over to the driver’s side; he holds the gun to the side of my head as he screams, “Shut the door!” the car had nerve enough to have the windows tinted. The tires screeched as he quickly shifts gears out of reverse into drive and we sped off leaving the safe part of my world behind. And out of nowhere I feel a cloth over my face with hands attached to it pressing up against my nostrils forcing me to inhale this sweet smelling…

I awake to a voice whispering out, “Hey… Lucy wake up! Wake up!” The room is low lit, there was some sort of foul smell roaming through the air, the walls were dark gray and dilapidated, and the floor was a mixture of dirt rocks and concrete. It resembled the look of the hotel in my reoccurring dream the moment I went back looking for my brother. There was a door I couldn’t tell from the dimmed look, but it seemed like a cellar door of some sort.  “Lucy! Wake up… please wake up!” The voice I heard was of female calling my name, but I see no one. “Please Lucy, please wake up!” I didn’t respond right off, my attention was on my surroundings. I had been left to lie on a grimy damped mattress that was placed on the floor. My clothes were ripped apart and soiled, my body ached and it seems I have blood coming from a cut on my lip, along with bruises and scrapes all over my body. “Please Lucy, please wake up.” I continued to hear her voice as I curl up into a fetal position, terrified of the uncertainties of what may lie ahead. Am I hallucinating again? Am I really hearing someone call out to me? The woman’s voice that I hear has an accent of Hispanic race. “Lucy, please…, please wake up. I need someone to keep me sane,” she cried. “How do you know my name?” “Oh my God! Oh my God! Thank God you’re alive!” She cried out. “Are you hurting, can you move?” she asked. “I’m in pain, but I can move a little.” It was difficult trying to detect where her voice was coming from so I spoke out, “Where are you?” “I’m in the next room; I’m going to tap on the wall so you can find me.” And as she stated, she did just that. She was to the left of me adjacent to where I lay. “How do you know my name?” I asked. “I heard Jesús and another guy speak your name while they were attacking you.” “Who?” I asked. “Shhh there coming, whatever you do don’t let them know you’re woke act as if your still asleep!” she whispered, as I heard voices entering.

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