Holding Onto Our Dreams

Wrote this in response to the song "Everything But Me" by Daughtry.

“No! Please!” a woman screamed to the dim light of the room. The only thing she could see through her fuzzy eyes was a black cylinder shape. She struggled to break free from the ropes that tied her down. Through her struggle, she began to feel some of her wounds reopen.

The man holding what she assumed to be a gun lowered his weapon and crouched down beside her, his face near hers. “You don't want to hurt yourself more, do you?” he asked, his voice making her cringe. “Your husband will find you here dead, and he will be sent over the edge. And he will die, too.”

“No!” the woman cried out.

He placed a hand on her lower stomach. “It's a shame I have to end your life. You could've had a little boy just like me.” He laughed cruelly.

In a slow motion, the man swung his right arm over, aiming the gun at her chest and fired. The sound of the blast did not make him blink. He only looked at her lifeless body, debating whether or not he should help himself to her body one last time.

~~~

Detective James Sogni stepped out of his black Toyota, and walked towards the police tape, happy to be taking one case alone. “What do we got?” Sogni asked the officer standing by the entrance to the junky apartment.

“White female, early to mid forties, couldn't find any ID,” the officer said. “It's an ugly sight in there. Bruises, cuts, all kinds of wounds. She had to have been tortured and raped several times.”

“How long do you think she's been here?”

“Two, three days.”

“Where is she?”

“Second room on the left.”

Sogni nodded. “Thanks.” He walked past the small living room and kitchen until he came upon the bedroom. He put on gloves as he entered the room and looked at the body curiously. He could barely breathe once he saw the woman's face. Sogni reached out to her and stroked her cheek. “What monster killed my wife?” he choked out.

~

Ten years later:

“Daddy?” a familiar voice asked.

Sogni looked up at his daughter from a family portrait that was taken from when his wife was alive. “Hm?” he asked Anya.

“Can I take the car to school?”

“You mean that beat-up old Trans-Am of yours? Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” She hugged him.

“Have a good first day at school.”

“It's not a first day, Dad.”

“It is. It's a first day at a new school.”

“I'm a senior.”

“Still.” They exchanged a smile. She hugged him again. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

“Drive safe. Don't want anything happenin' to the baby.”

Her smile was gone. She nodded and walked out.

Sogni sighed to himself. He knew how sensitive of a subject the baby was to her. His mind flashed back to the day he found her sprawled out on a mattress in an unoccupied basement three months ago.

He shook himself back to reality and looked at the file on his desk, but not before taking in a glance at the portrait of himself, Anya and his wife.

~

Three months ago:

“Anya, can you come here?” Professor Hoyle asked her as the dismissal bell was ringing.

“Sure,” she said and walked over to his desk.

Professor Hoyle smiled at her as he sat on the edge of his desk. “You know something? You are probably the most beautiful student I've ever had.”

Anya tried to hide her blush or any other signs of “encouragement”. “Thank you.”

~

Present day:

Anya walked with her soup and salad across the cafeteria floor slowly and with uncertainty. A couple pretty girls pointed at her and whispered. Shyly, she walked the other way and sat at an empty table. “Hey, you're the new girl, right?” a female's voice asked behind her.

Anya turned and faced a pretty jock-dressed girl her age. “Yeah.”

“Someone said you got laid with a teacher and that's why you had to drop out of your summer classes.” The girl sat down beside her.

Anya swallowed a small bite of a saltine cracker. “That's not exactly true.”

“Doesn't matter if it is or not. The rumor's all ready spread.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

The girl studied Anya. “I'm Grace,” she said.

“Anya.”

Grace unwrapped her plastic-wrapped sandwich and began eating beside Anya. Anya looked at her curiously before sipping a spoonful of her lentil soup. I think I may have possibly made a friend, Anya thought.

~

“So... how was your first day of school?” Sogni asked Anya that night over dinner.

“It was good,” Anya answered.

“Did you meet anyone? Anyone nice?”

“Yeah. A girl named Grace. I got her number.”

“What's her last name?” Sogni poured some more mashed potatoes on his plate.

“I don't know. I didn't ask.”

They had mostly finished their plates before he asked, “How are the teachers?”

Anya stopped chewing a bite of a homemade roll and looked up at her father. She swallowed before answering, “The teachers are fine.”

“I'm gonna need their full names.”

Anya sighed mentally. “I'll give you my schedule after dinner. It has every teacher's last name on it and first initial. That good enough?”

Sogni noticed the snap in her voice. “I'm only trying to protect you.” Anya picked up her plate and silverware noisily and let them rattle in the sink. “Anya,” he protested her attitude with his voice. “Anya!” he shouted as she was walking away.

Sogni sighed not seeing the return of his daughter and threw his fork on his plate, upset.

~

Ten years ago:

“So, what's your name again?” Sogni asked a tall blonde male in his forties.

“Giffin.”

“You got a first name?” Sogni sat on the table only a few inches away from the man.

Giffin shrugged. “What's it say in my file?”

Sogni placed a photo in front of him of his wife in the morgue. “You recognize this woman?”

Giffin looked and smiled. “Oh, yes. She was my last.”

“Last what?”

Giffin smiled even more. “Last lover.”

Sogni grabbed the back of Giffin's shirt collar. “Listen, you disgusting son of a b***h, that's my wife!”

“Was....”

Sogni fiercely let go of Giffin's shirt collar so that Giffin was slightly taken aback. “I'll see your a*s in court,” he said as he left the interrogation room.

~

Present day:

Sogni reviewed the last of his daughter's teachers before looking back at her schedule to triple check that he had not missed any names. He folded up her schedule neatly and placed it on the far end of his desk in hopes that his daughter would remember to pick it up on her way to school in the morning. He sighed in some relief that all of her teachers were fairly clean, except for a couple parking and speeding tickets. She'll be fine, Sogni told himself. She'll be fine.

~

“Daddy!” Anya screamed into the night.

Heavy footsteps approached her door as her father appeared in the doorway and turned on her room's light-switch. “What is it, baby?”

Anya was speechless as she continued to loudly cry. “No. No,” she repeated through her tears.

Sogni sat on her bed and held his daughter. “It was just a dream. He can't hurt you now.”

Anya sobbed into her father's pajama shirt sleeve as they rocked together back and forth.

~

Three months ago:

“Come here,” Professor Hoyle reached out his arms and pulled Anya closer.

“What are you doing?” Anya asked, trying to push away.

The professor hushed her as he touched one of her breasts.

“No. Get away from me,” Anya insisted, struggling to break his hold.

“Be quiet,” Professor Hoyle whispered as he began slipping off Anya's jean shorts.

Anya began shaking as the professor pinned her down on the desk and began unzipping his own pants.

~

Present day:

Anya sleepily walked into the kitchen and grabbed the carton of orange juice and began chugging.

“I want you to see that psychiatrist again,” Sogni said as he poured milk into his oatmeal.

Anya swallowed her juice and gave her father the typical “duh” look most teens give their parents. “You realize that she's five hours away from here, right?”

“We can drive there every Saturday and Sunday. Or any weekday. Whatever you want.”

“Dad, I had a nightmare. That happens.”

“It doesn't happen multiple times a week to most people.”

“I'm not going.”

Sogni sighed as he ate a spoonful of oatmeal. “At least sit down and eat an apple.”

Anya gave her father a look of resentment, but agreed to his point and began crunching on an apple.

~

Three months ago:

“Anya, I know this is gonna be hard, but you need to tell us,” Anya's father's partner said, and pushed a photo of her English teacher toward her. “Is this Raymond Giffin?”

Anya studied the photo quickly and looked up at Detective Arci. “His name is Raymond Hoyle. He's my English teacher.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure.”

Arci looked at her and sighed. “Thank you for your time Miss Sogni.” Arci opened the door and gestured for her to exit. He followed her out and she sat on the chair outside. He met up with Sogni. “Before you take your daughter home, I think your theory is right. Giffin used a different identity to get his teaching position.”

“Tell me how he got out of prison then,” Sogni retorted, remembering his beaten and dead wife laying in a dank basement years ago.

“Good behavior.”

“You've gotta be kidding me.”

Arci shrugged. “Crap like that happens. Don't worry,” Arci patted Sogni's arm. “Son of a b***h'll get what he deserves for hurting your wife and kid.”

Arci started walking away and Sogni went over to his daughter and whispered to himself, “Prison could never be enough payment.”

~

Present day:

Anya walked arm in arm with her father down the steps of the courthouse. “Daddy?” she asked.

“Yes baby?” Sogni said, lowering his voice, hoping that the couple reporters that showed up wouldn't pick up their conversation.

“Can we go visit mom?” Anya brought up her eyes to meet Sogni's.

“Of course, sweetie.” Sogni kissed her head. “We can go tell her that the world's most sick and twisted man is out of our lives forever.”

As Sogni opened the door of their Trans-Am for his daughter to step in, he wondered if death was instead a gift for the monster that abused his family. He looked across the street and saw a mother and daughter walking hand in hand and smiled to himself. Maybe it is a good thing, he thought. Maybe lives will be protected. He shut the passenger door and climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, heading towards the cemetery where his wife had been buried. Lives have been saved, Kristy. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't been able to save them.

Author's Note

Feedback is much appreciated!