Dream 1

I've been kidnapped and I'm trying to get help.

The breeze was still that morning. Trees didn’t rustle. The leaves didn’t scamper. And the sun was hidden behind a thick, gray cloud. Everything was quiet and calm. It was a perfect day for a walk, thought two sisters, as they walked down their rocky, winding driveway. Nothing would bother them.  

As they got to the end of the driveway, Elizaveta spotted a navy blue car. The car seemed familiar and made her uneasy. She stared at it for a moment, watching it sit on the side of the road. “Why do you think that car is just sitting there?” Elizaveta asked her sister Michaela.

Michaela looked over at her, a devious smile spread across her face. “They’re coming to get you,” she said in a spooky voice. Her hazel eyes sparkled, even though there was barely any sun. Michaela often liked to tease Elizaveta, knowing it wouldn’t take much to get her scared.

“Stop!” Elizaveta demanded, her voice showing that she wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m just joking. You worry too much.”

Elizaveta rolled her eyes, annoyed.

As they stood there, Michaela picked up rocks and threw them on the ground. She seemed to have blocked out everything that was going on, not noticing the navy blue car driving slowly towards them. When Elizaveta looked up, she saw the car rolling near and nudged her sister, who kept examining the rocks she had thrown.

“Michaela! Elizaveta said. Her voice was urgent.

She didn’t know how, but she felt that something was going to go wrong. As the car drove nearer her heart rate picked up, her body trembled, and her head started pounding. Something that always happened when she felt nervous or alarmed. 

“Michaela,” she called again, but she still remained focused on the ground. Before Elizaveta had another chance to call for her sister’s attention, she felt her body getting swept into the vehicle. A swirl of images crept across her mind, and before she knew what was happening her screams were devoured by unbearable silence, and then she was         surrounded by darkness.

 

*          *          *          *          *

 

When Elizaveta woke up, her face was on a torn up leather seat. A certain familiar smell filled her senses. She tried to remember where the smell came from, but her memory fogged up, and she soon forced herself to relax so she wouldn’t be surrounded by darkness again.

A man nudged her, “Are you awake?” The voice was deep and familiar.

Elizaveta grunted to show that she was awake. She couldn’t form any words at the moment. Everything in her mind was a blur. She couldn’t even remember how she got here.

“You’ll feel better if you sit up?” The man motioned for her to get up. She used her arms to push her up and stared out the window. An image of trees and houses filled her eyes. She noticed the familiar cornfields and knew they were close to her house.

As her vison began to clear up she looked at the man through the rearview mirror. He looked back. A small smile spread across his face. “Hello, Annamarie.” Those were the only words she needed to hear to identify what was so familiar about all of this.

“John.” She tried to keep the shaking in her voice under control, hoping he wouldn’t catch it. Now she understood why everything was so familiar. She had ridden in this same car. She had heard this man’s voice. Her first adoptive father was here with her now, something she only dreamed about. But with the circumstances she didn’t know whether to be happy or scared or angry.

“You can still call me dad.” He smiled.

Tears brimmed her eyes. “You never came back for me.”

She looked out the window, waiting for his response, but it never came. The image of cornfields appeared again and she realized they must be circling back. When they passed her driveway she looked eagerly at it, hoping to see her sister, but no one was there. Wouldn’t people be looking for her?

“How long have I been gone? She asked nervously.

“Almost two days?”

A million questions swarmed in her mind. Why hadn’t Michaela gone for help when John took her? Where were the cops and the fire trucks? Was anyone looking for her or worried about her?

She looked back out the window to find herself going past the cornfields again. Why did they keep circling back and forth? In a few minutes they went past her driveway-again.

Elizaveta took a breath and asked, “Why do we keep driving past my driveway.”

John looked at her through the rearview mirror and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” She argued.

A moment of silence went by.

“Where are taking me?” She tried again.

“It doesn’t matter1!” he slammed his hands onto the steering wheel.

Her body trembled and shook, alarmed.

After a while of passing the cornfields, John halted to a stop. “Get out. I’ll be back.” A small click signaled that the door was unlocked. She opened the door and got out shutting it behind her. John rolled the window down and said, “And remember, if you run away, I’ll find you.”

The car sped away, leaving Elizaveta in the cold. The sun was setting and the wind had picked up. As she looked around, she realized she was at her old friend Cheyanne’s house. She spotted her familiar chestnut hair, and knew immediately that it was her old friend.

“Cheyanne! Cheyanne!” Elizaveta called. As she reached her old friend she shook her. “Cheyanne you have to help me! Please, help me!”

Cheyanne remained motionless. Her body stood as still as a statue. No matter how much Elizaveta shook her, she wouldn’t move.

“Cheyanne, please!” Tears crawled down Elizaveta’s face. She pulled on her clothes. “Help me!” she screamed. Rain started falling from the sky. What felt like hours of trying to get help, Elizaveta stopped, realizing it was useless.

 She heard a car engine coming near her. Run. You can make it, she thought. She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind. The car came closer and closer, and to make it look like she wasn’t asking for help or doing something John wouldn’t agree with, she let out a burst of laughter.

As John grew nearer, he looked at her laughing, giving her a confused look. He knows she can’t hear me, Elizaveta thought.

“Get in.” John said sternly.

She got into the car and sat down, feeling the warm heat wash over her. She looked out her window and watched the car drive back and forth. She passed her driveway every time, each time hoping to see someone looking for her, but each time she became more disappointed.

Finally, she realized that he kept on driving by for her sister.

She kept the knowledge silent, afraid of what he would do if he knew she knew. John Halted to another stop, right outside her old friends house. She saw Cheyanne out there, but this time with a dog. It might be different this time, she hoped.

The door clicked again and Elizaveta got out into the rain. John rolled down his window saying the same thing he said last time, “And remember, if you run away, I’ll find you.”

After that he sped away. Elizaveta watched him disappear and then ran towards Cheyanne and her dog. “Cheyanne, please help me! I really need your help!” She begged and pleaded, but Cheyanne remained frozen.

She tried to get the dog to react, but nothing happened. She fell to the ground, and laid in the wet grass. Tears streamed down her face, and her whole body felt hopeless. “Run. You can make it,” she cried to herself.

Then a noise filled her ears. A small, girly laugh. The laugh was familiar. It sounded so much like…

“Michaela,” Elizaveta screamed, getting up to run towards her. Her sister looked up confused. “Get out of here. Go!”

Michaela still looked confused.

“Go! Run!”

Another noise distracted her. A car engine rumbled nearby.

“John!” she whispered. “That’s John” she watched as the familiar navy blue car rolled up nearby, very slowly.

Elizaveta tried running toward Michaela, but she couldn’t move fast enough.
“Get out of here!” The car got closer and Elizaveta still screamed. The only thought that was in her mind was, I have to save my sister. Elizaveta tied moving her legs faster, but it was like everything in the world was going at regular speed but her. It was like a slow motion movie.

“Michaela! RUN!” But by the time she got the words out, the car had slowly driven past her driveway, leaving it empty.

Elizaveta moved her legs after the car determined to stop it, but it was soon far out of her reach. She fell into the white grass. Tears and rained soaked her face, and before she knew it everything went black.

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[M P Ramesh]

elizaveta,

Emotions are the driving forces of writing , no doubt. But the passion and agony/ you may call pang of birth are its hidden souls. Knowingly or unknowingly writer acknowledges all. Once the wind takes her/him there is no other way it seems. Perfect or imperfect are the issues related to readers. But writer never turns his/her back.


to put it
excellent work of art and attempt


caRRY ON............


M P ramesh