Gone

This is a story I wrote for a writing competition at my local library. It would be great to get some feedback on it before I submit it :)

My eyes shot open at the sound of a loud shriek. I looked up to see Grayson, whose hands and feet were tied, screaming in sheer terror. After regaining full consciousness, I took in the cramped, musty room we were in. The beige wallpaper was peeling off the walls, the carpet underneath us was stained with a dark red, and a strong stench filled the room. After the shock subsided, I felt an immense fear take over my body as my heart raced and my breathing quickened. Grayson, who was prone to panic attacks, had started hyperventilating, his face frozen in a state of utter horror.

“Grayson! Gray, listen to me!” I urged him, trying to snap him out of his fit of terror. His head swung in my direction. “Just calm down. Everything will be fine. I’ll get us out of here.” I promised.

Despite my restricted movement because, like Grayson, both my hands and feet were tied together tightly, my words had a slight effect on him, as his breathing slowed down. However, this didn’t last long, because a few seconds later, the wooden door creaked open and in stepped a large figure.

His massive body towered over my puny figure as he bent down and untied my hands. Suddenly, Grayson’s soft whimpers cut through the thick silence that had surrounded us, which upset the hefty man who spun around in a surprising swiftness and without warning swung his fist back and punched Grayson squarely in the face.

A horrific cracking sound echoed through the room as both me and Grayson fell into a state of shock and the large man left the room. Immediately, I rushed to my brother, who was still tied up and had fallen onto his back. I helped him back up and inspected his bloody face, wincing at his obviously broken nose. As soon as I untied his feet and hands, Grayson wrapped his arms around me, burying his bloody, tear-stained face in my shoulder. I held him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly and whispering words of reassurance, however, the bright light at the end of this dark tunnel was growing dimmer. Suddenly, the door swung open abruptly, allowing two burly men to walk in, both wearing black sweaters and one was holding a sharp blade. Without hesitation, Grayson was pinned down by one of the men and the other raised the blade above his chest. My screams and his merged into a mess of loud noises as the knife sunk into his chest.

“NOOOOO!” I shot up from my sleep, noticing Grayson seated beside the bed with an alarmed expression.

“Matt? Are y-” I threw my arms around his shoulders, not yet believing that it had all been a dream.

“Matt?! What’s wrong?” he questioned, the alarm in his voice now clearer.

I shook my head, “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.” Grayson cocked his head to the side, a gesture of confusion, then shrugged.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re alright. We should head home now,” Gray announced as he stood up from his chair. I got off the bed, still shaken from my horrific nightmare, and grabbed my backpack.

“And that was when I woke up,” I finished off the retelling of my dream as we opened the front door to our house.

I scuffed upstairs, got into my PJs and dashed back down to grab a snack. A few hours of spongebob, Gray turned the T.V off and we both headed upstairs to start our homework.

In my room, my vision began to blur again, with it came a sharp pain in my skull bringing me to my knees, clutching my head in anguish. I let out a groan of agony, to which my brother responded by bolting into the room, concern etched onto his face. He opened mouth as if to say something, yet there was a deafening humming, blocking out his voice, and further intensifying my headache. His troubled expression and moving lips were the last things I saw before everything dissolved into a black abyss.

~~~

My head was throbbing as my eyes opened, revealing an array of stickers decorating the ceiling above me in what appeared to be a hospital room.The white door swung open, and my jaw dropped as a tall brunette woman walked in looking just as shocked.

“M…Mom?” I stammered, the awe of seeing her felt like a punch to the gut. She ran to my bed with a wide smile and, without warning, wrapped her arms tightly around me. My heart stopped at the soft touch of my mother’s embrace, my eyes watering as I realized how much I had missed her.

“Baby, you’re awake. You finally woke up!” she exclaimed, cupping my face in her hands. This resulted in my father rushing into the room, followed quickly by a nurse who examined my vital signs before running to fetch a doctor.

I interjected with my final realization, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? This is one of those nightmares I’ve been having.” My parent’s confusion evolved into concern as I spoke, and my mother approached me again.

“Honey, what are you talking about?” She spoke softly, “You’re awake. You’ve been in a coma for the past month.”

My breath caught in my throat as her words swirled through my head. That couldn’t be true. I was at school today, with my friends, with Grayson.

“No. No. No that’s ridiculous. I was in my room with Grayson, at home. What… What happened?” I stuttered, on the verge of hyperventilation.

After a slight moment of silence, my mom took in a deep breath and gazed at me, her eyes full of pity.

“Sweetheart, two months ago, you were kidnapped. You and your brother vanished for weeks,” - her voice cracked as she broke down in tears and my dad rushed to comfort her. With his arms wrapped around her shaking shoulders, he let out a long sigh and stared at me.

“We searched everywhere for you. The police had search parties and in the end they found you in an abandoned cabin in the woods,” dad explained, averting his gaze, “You were passed out from blood loss. There were a lot of deep cuts on your stomach and arms. And Grayson, h-” He was cut off.

“He was dead. My baby boy was murdered!” my mom, who was now yelling hysterically. Wracked with indescribable agony, she fell onto her knees and sobbed uncontrollably.

Grayson is dead. The words echoed through my head for what seemed like an eternity. It was as if my brain had short-circuited and everything was in fast-forward while I sat motionless in the middle of it all. My parents were yelling at me, both wearing petrified expressions, yet all I could hear was the heart monitor whose tone had altered from a steady rhythm to a sequence of short, quick beeps. A strong wave of nausea gripped me along with a severe burning extending from my torso up into my throat.

The intense pain in my chest grew to a roar until it was all I knew. Something was wrong, the seconds stretched into hours and the never-ending torture was all I could feel. There was no end coming, no bright light appearing to rescue me from the pain which continued to expand beyond all comprehension. The last thing I heard was the flat, monotonous tone of the cardiac monitor, just as the pain washed away. Beeeeeeep.