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Jan. 27th, 2007 12:28 am3:30
The first thing I saw when my eyes flew open were the luminescent numbers floating in front of my face.
At first, I didn't know what it was that has woken me, and by the time I figured it out, it was already too late.
Too late, because they were in.
Bile and a scream fought for purchase in my already narrowed throat, allowing only a gurgle to escape. It doesn't matter. They knew where I was. They knew before they pulled into my driveway in their low, black cars. I lay there, paralyzed with fear, waiting for the inevitable footsteps on the stairs. It's funny, you know, how your senses can be so heightened. I would have sworn I could hear heartbeats from next door, so keenly was I straining my ears. Finally, painfully, the creak of the third stair from the bottom.
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. I wouldn't know about that. I know mine flashed before mine as I waited for them to traverse the short hall at the top of the stairs. It wasn't much of a life. Lots in it I wasn't proud of, but it was mine, and I wasn't too eager to have it end. I saw the hotel room where my marriage had ended. I saw the birth of Jessica. I saw Keith standing at the end of the aisle of the First Baptist Church. I saw the headlines of the newspapers that told of the shame of steroids, always with a picture of me on the Olympic podium next to them. Running...running wasn't an option. I had run before. I had run until my feet bled and running had gotten me nothing but pain. Running was what had gotten me into this mess to begin with. My speed was what they were after.
The door knob turned. So many of them. They streamed into the room. I was pinned before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth.
"We have Jessica."
No more needed to be said.
In and out in sixty seconds. That is the plan. In and out. Meet up at the rendezvous, and await further instructions. In and out. Jessica will be fine. Use my car. Less suspicious.
In and out.
I hope they are right about the rain.
The first thing I saw when my eyes flew open were the luminescent numbers floating in front of my face.
At first, I didn't know what it was that has woken me, and by the time I figured it out, it was already too late.
Too late, because they were in.
Bile and a scream fought for purchase in my already narrowed throat, allowing only a gurgle to escape. It doesn't matter. They knew where I was. They knew before they pulled into my driveway in their low, black cars. I lay there, paralyzed with fear, waiting for the inevitable footsteps on the stairs. It's funny, you know, how your senses can be so heightened. I would have sworn I could hear heartbeats from next door, so keenly was I straining my ears. Finally, painfully, the creak of the third stair from the bottom.
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. I wouldn't know about that. I know mine flashed before mine as I waited for them to traverse the short hall at the top of the stairs. It wasn't much of a life. Lots in it I wasn't proud of, but it was mine, and I wasn't too eager to have it end. I saw the hotel room where my marriage had ended. I saw the birth of Jessica. I saw Keith standing at the end of the aisle of the First Baptist Church. I saw the headlines of the newspapers that told of the shame of steroids, always with a picture of me on the Olympic podium next to them. Running...running wasn't an option. I had run before. I had run until my feet bled and running had gotten me nothing but pain. Running was what had gotten me into this mess to begin with. My speed was what they were after.
The door knob turned. So many of them. They streamed into the room. I was pinned before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth.
"We have Jessica."
No more needed to be said.
In and out in sixty seconds. That is the plan. In and out. Meet up at the rendezvous, and await further instructions. In and out. Jessica will be fine. Use my car. Less suspicious.
In and out.
I hope they are right about the rain.
