by Liz Lovelock
Coughing and spluttering, I attempt to suck in another breath, but my chest constricts tightly. My captor’s face comes within inches of mine. I shut my eyes tight so I don’t have to witness the blackness that sits in those swirls of death. The tickle of his steady breathing hits my cheek.
“I know every trick in the book. I’ve been at this a long time.” He keeps his tone so very low, and it’s as if he puts it on. His words pierce right through me. I now know I’m never going to leave this place.
He’s obviously played out this scene a number of times. Everything with him is strategic. He has a plan, and I know deep down I’ll never see full sunlight again.
I’ll not be getting that promotion.
I won’t get to go on that first date with Roman.
Suzie will be devastated. Hell, she’s probably already sent out a search party.
I couldn’t wait to tell her my good news, as well as to let her know I was actually going out on a date with a decent guy. Now, it will never happen.
I remember when she first stood up for me. It made me feel like a different person. Empowered, in a way. Well, as empowered as a fifteen-year-old can be.
As I clear the back yard once again, I reminisce back on the day I first met Suzie. She became my savior, someone who looked out for me, no matter if my parents threatened her.
It was a cold day. My chilled hands gripped the rake as I tried to keep all the leaves together and not allow them to spread across the yard even more with the breeze. My mother always wanted the lawn done on the windiest and coldest of days. I owned one thin jacket and no gloves. When warm water hit them, it felt as if they were burning. It hurt so bad.
“Lass?” a soft voice called.
Spinning around I’m greeted with a smile from my neighbor. We hadn’t officially met, though.
“Here…” Her arms extended over the fence and in her hands was a large thick coat and a pair of woollen gloves.
Slowly, I moved toward her, turning to the back door constantly in case my mom or dad decide to come out.
“I’m not sure I can take them.” They looked so tempting and warm. A cozy coat would work wonders for me, especially at night in my chilly room.
“Dear… I’ve watched you out here enough on these cold days, to know how freezing you must be. Hell, I’m standing here all bundled up and still trembling from this frost. You… you’ll be frozen in the garden in no time.” She laughed, and I couldn’t help but grin back at her.
Without another word, I took the jacket and wrapped it around me tightly. It was so warm and inviting, I thought I wouldn’t ever take it off. Maybe I’d glue it to my body so my parents can’t take it from me. Slipping the gloves on, it felt as if I was placing on the perfect-sized slipper. I felt like Cinderella, only I’m still the servant, but with a brand-spanking-new coat and gloves.
I looked up at her, with tears in my eyes. “Thank you so much.” I wanted to hug her. I didn’t know this lady very well, but she felt like safety to me.
“What are you doing, girl?”
I froze, and I was about to rip off my new coat and gloves, but Suzie stopped me. The fear shown on my face said it all. What happened next blew me away.
“Sorry. I had an old jacket and knitted some gloves too small for me, so I’ve given them to her. I hope it’s okay?” She’s was so kind to my monster of a mother.
The smile on mother’s face was fake; I’d seen it a number of times now and knew it well. “I’d rather you not talk to my daughter,” she snapped.
Suzie looked taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were actually trying to kill her out here in the cold.”
I took a step away, not wanting to be a part of this. Worry spread through me, for Suzie. She was poking the dragon.
Mom’s mouth went thin. “How dare you speak to me like that? My daughter is fed, clothed, and has a roof over her head. That’s what’s most important.”
“If you say so, but if I so much as see a bruise on this young lady, I’ll make sure the police pay a visit to your doorstep.” Suzie had her finger pointed accusingly at Mom. Never did I think I’d see fear on Mom’s face, but Suzie’s threat held promise, and she knew it. Deep down, I was loving how this situation played out, although later I’d probably receive some form of punishment for causing this.
“I’ll ask you again to mind your own business. Walk away, lady,” Mom hissed at her.
“Or what? You’ll hit me?”
Oh, my goodness. I thought, this lady had some woman balls. They’re made of steel. Never in my wildest dream would I have had the guts to say something like that to my mother.
“Finish your job, girl, and then get inside,” Mom barked at me and turned, leaving us. My lips twitched with pleasure. Knowing what was going to come later, it was worth it to see my mother twinge.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” I whispered, but kept my head down while I raked the leaves.
“Dear… I hate seeing how they treat you and not saying anything. No more, though. If I see anything at all, I’ll be stepping in for you. Look at you—you’re practically wasting away to nothing.”
I had a small frame, but I’d also only been allowed limited portions of food.
“What’s your name? I’ve only ever heard them call you girl.”
“That’s all I’ve ever been called. I’m not sure what my real name is. Although they have mentioned the name Gertrude, and my teachers at school use it, but at home it’s mostly lazy, stupid or girl.” As stupid as that sounded, it was the truth. I believed my name to be ‘girl.’ At school, the teachers probably saw me as the homeless girl, a wanderer going by my rag clothes. It took a long time for my parents to allow me to attend school. I only participated when I needed to. When other students gave me hell, I took it. I couldn’t be bothered reporting anything when the staff didn’t give a fat rat’s ass.
My life sucked. Would it ever get better?
“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear…” She paused a moment, a thoughtful look on her face. “Can I call you, Elenore?”
Hmm, Elenore… I let the name mull around in my head for a moment. It was a very nice name. “I like it.”
“Okay, Elenore it is, then. It suits you beautifully. Do you have a last name?”
“Smith,” I replied. She nodded.
“When you’re old enough you can go and change it legally to whatever you want?” Her hand extended as she rubbed my arm.
“Can I change my last name?” I hesitantly asked. I wanted to leave this life behind when I was old enough.
“You can change your last name possibly; I’d have to look into it. If you like, you could have my surname… it’s Burrows. How does that sound?” Her words were so gentle, it felt alien to me. Never had I ever experienced this softness when being addressed. My chest swelled with emotion.
“Elenore Burrows… I like it.” A big cheesy grin pulled across my face and Suzie’s as well.
“Well, there you go. If you can, come to my house at any time. I’ll always have food for you, and if you need anything, you’ll let me know. I won’t have you stealing like I’ve seen you do in the past.”
I hung my head in shame. There was nothing else I could do. I wanted a notebook to write in, and so I took one.
“You hear me, Elenore?”
My eyes met hers, and I nodded.
A burning sensation hits the bow of my foot and then the arch. I scream out in pain, my eyes falling on the now bloody blade he’s holding.
“Ah… there you are. You’re back in the real world now. Welcome to the final days of your life.” His evil laughter fills the room, and I die a little inside. The tip of the scalpel touches my foot again, his eyes close, and then he slices the most sensitive part of my foot. Another scream bursts forth from my chest.
It’s been seventy-two hours since Elenore went missing. I’m going stir-crazy. Her poor mom, Suzie, is feeling how I am. I’ve lost track of the amount of times Suzie has called, asking for news
—any news. I had to stop taking her calls, and have some time for myself to think. When Pierce arrived on the scene, he saw how stirred up I was so he told me to go and chill.
I took off and got some food. Someone I am coming to care for is now missing. I need to be on this case even if it means I never sleep. The chance we have of finding her alive becomes less and less as the hours fly past. If it’s the serial killer who took Rebecca, then her body will show up maybe in the next three or four days. His modus operandi is usually one week. He keeps them captive before he obviously tires of them.
Those letters get me every time. Showing them to their families is another kick in the stomach. Well, except for with the last one Rebecca. Her parents couldn’t have cared less about her. They didn’t even cry when they received a copy of the letter. What heartless people.
I jump when my cell rings in my pocket.
“Blackwood,” I clip.
“It’s Suzie. Have you got any word yet?”
Sitting back in my swivel chair, my hand presses to my forehead. This is the sixth time today. “Mrs. Burrows, I’m sorry, but we’re pursuing every possible lead, every avenue of investigation.” I hear her sobbing, the poor woman.
“You’re obviously not doing enough if you haven’t found anything new.”
“We’re doing everything we can. We’ve asked people to come forward if they’ve seen anything, and we’ve obtained the security footage from the building that points to the front of the street. When I say we’re doing everything we can, I promise you we are.”
“I’m sorry. I know you are. I saved her once before, and it’s crushing me that I can’t do it again. I need to be doing something. Have you spoken to her friend? What’s his name… Lewis?”
That jerk isn’t answering his phone, and he hasn’t been at work.
“We’ve reached out to him, and we’re waiting to hear back,” I reply with acid in my tone. The guy really rubs me the wrong way. When inquiring about his friend Rebecca, he became so defensive. I’d inquired where he was when Rebecca went missing and his response was questionable, at the very least. Even Pierce questioned his responses.
“What?” he’d said. “So you’re going to pin her death on me? I was out of town on business. You can check with my office for details.”
I don’t know why he’d think we’d pin his friend’s murder on him, unless he is the serial killer we’ve been searching for.
Once I was back in the office, I carried out a search on him. What turned up was a little worrying. He has a rap sheet for violence. Looking at the list of charges he’s had laid against him over the years gives me the urge to pay him another visit.
“I don’t trust that boy, and by the tone of your voice, you don’t either.” Suzie’s words couldn’t be truer.
“I have to weigh everything up and hope something good comes from it. Do you happen to have a key for Elenore’s place? Maybe the perp was in her apartment at some time.”
“Oh, no…” she sobs. “I have one here. I’ll be awake for a while if you want to come and pick it up.”
I gather she’s not sleeping much either. “That would be great. I’ll come by soon and collect it.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she replies before hanging up, leaving me to my own thoughts once again.
It’s ten at night on the third night Elenore’s been gone. Why the hell can’t I help her? What can I do?
“Blackwood, what are you still doing here? I told you to go get some rest hours ago,” my captain snaps at me.
“Yes, sorry, sir. Got caught up. I’m going to collect a key to our latest victim’s apartment, then I’ll go there first thing in the morning.” Standing from my desk, I slide on my coat.
“All right, see you in the morning. Pierce will call you if something comes up.”
I nod, grabbing my keys, and I’m out the door, knowing I won’t be waiting until morning to go to her place.
When I arrive at Mrs. Burrows’ home, the porch light is on, and I see her silhouette moving around the house behind the curtains. I rap on the door and stand there waiting for her to answer. I hear her shuffling toward me.
Opening the door, she greets me with a sad smile, one I’ve seen plenty of times in this line of work. “Hello, Detective.” Even her tone is sad. This poor lady has lost her daughter, and here she is trying to remain strong.
“Hello, Mrs. Burrows.” She steps aside, allowing me to enter her cozy home. “How are you doing?” I ask while standing in the middle of the small living room. It’s full of old-fashioned furniture, and the kind of smell only elderly people’s homes seem to hold. It’s like a mixture of baby powder and lavender.
Mrs. Burrows gestures to the chair. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Burrows. I’m okay.”
“You can call me Suzie.”
I acknowledge her request, giving her a curt nod. My focus falls on the images in frames on the wall. They all look like Elenore.
“She’s a beautiful girl who had been dealt a bad hand.”
Her words catch me off guard. A bad hand?
Turning back toward her, I ask, “What do you mean?”
A smile touches her lips. “Detective, I adopted Elenore when her parents left her to fend for herself. But before it happened…” She pauses. Her bottom lip begins to quiver.
“I’m sorry, Suzie. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She waves her hand at me, stopping my apology. “Elenore was my neighbor. I’d watched and listened for years as those evil, vile people treated her like she was nothing but rubbish under their feet.” Her voice cracks, and tears brim her shining blue eyes. “You might have noticed her name became hers when she was seventeen. Before that, her name was Gertrude. Her parents were monsters and just wanted her there to be their slave.”
Rage wraps its way through me at the words I’m hearing. We are in the process of looking far back at the station, but no records have been discovered about her parents. How could a family do that? I guess it’s easy when I think about my own upbringing.
“How is that even possible?” I ask, the shock evident in my tone.
Suzie shrugs. “You tell me—you’re the law. Please, just find my daughter.” She takes my hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I can see that you care for my girl, so find her, for both our sakes. I need her.”
I’m not one who makes promises, because promises get broken all the time in this line of work. But this promise, I know I’ll keep.
“Mrs. Burrows, I will find Elenore. And when I do, that monster will pay,” I say with strength and determination.
“Thank you,” she replies.
“Suzie, can you give me her parents’ names? I only saw your details on there.”
“Sure. Their surname is Smith, John and Joanna. Not nice people. I’d called the police a few times, but they frightened the girl so much that she would tell them she was okay.”
Smith is such a popular name. Makes me wonder if it was even their real name. I need answers, and now.
“Something else… I changed her name when her parents thankfully left. She showed up one night and told me her parents were gone, so I let the police know and from there, I took Elenore in and adopted her. The police never found those monsters, which was fine by me because it meant I got the beautiful girl and was able to give her a great home. My only regret is I never moved, since I couldn’t afford to. Every time she visits me, she stops and stares at that house. Elenore sees only what she went through.”
I’m left speechless. I need to find her. The question is, where do I begin to look? Perhaps they’re jealous of who she turned out to be?
It’s got me thinking though, who is Elenore Burrows?
The warm breeze floats around me, kissing my sensitive skin. I’m in a forest, surrounded by large pine trees. I tilt my head toward the sky.
“What can you see, pretty girl?”
I turn toward the person who fills me with so much warmth and am m
et with a blurry face. Everything except her eyes is distorted.
“Umm… who are you?” I sound like a little child. I glance down at my body, and it’s the size of a small girl’s, maybe a five-year-old’s. Even though my mind is my adult self. I remember Suzie, my kidnapper, everything that has gone on, but what is this place and who is this lady?
I keep my focus on the blurry face, trying to make out who it is.
“Why, dear, I’m…” As she speaks, her eyes turn to black pools, and a man in a ski mask appears. “Your worst nightmare.”
I jolt awake. I’m back in my living nightmare. I think I’m on day five, going by the marks I’ve been scratching into the wall with a piece of fallen concrete. Although now, it’s all blending together. My body feels so depleted and malnourished. I think my stomach has given up asking for food.
I’ve survived this long with my crappy upbringing.
What’s the saying—what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger?
Well, I grew strong with everything I went through. When I left my home and lived with Suzie, she nurtured me, taught me not to stand idly looking on, but to grab life by the balls and live. When she took me in, I found myself afraid to ask for anything in case I wasn’t allowed to have it, and she would ultimately punish me. Her kind and sensitive nature brought me out of my shell so much when I realized everything I did didn’t involve punishment.
I remember the first time I saw my bed. It was an actual bed with a big soft mattress that hugged your body each time you laid down. I don’t know what I’d done to deserve it.
Suzie was, and is, the best mother anyone could wish for.
The face in my dream, the blur, who was she? The voice, so tender and caring, sounded familiar. I’ve never met her before. Not that I recall.
