August 16, 2014 - BOBBY
After some furious knocking at the door, Bobby headed towards the door. It wouldn't be the first time she forgot her keys. As soon as Bobby opened the door, he regretted it, as two pairs of hands pushed him into the apartment, knocking him on his ass. One of the guys was enormous. He could have been a bouncer or a circus gorilla, and despite all the ideas on how to escape the situation, Bobby knew he couldn't take that guy. The second guy had more of a normal build, but he had the clear advantage of a gun, and a no nonsense attitude to go with it. There was no point in resisting, unless he wanted his sister to walk in on his dead body. Which could still happen even if he didn't resist. "Where are the journals?" said the no-nonsense guy. "I...I have no idea what you're talking about." This seemed to try the larger guy's patience over the edge, so Bobby added "There are a few boxes with notebooks under my sister's bed, but I don't know why you would want any of th..." And then everything went black. When he woke up, the sun was starting to set and he wondered if Alanna was home yet. She must have been, because a book whatever it is that she was going to, couldn’t possibly take that long. He saw that he was inside an old and dirty car, on an unpaved road that seemed to lead nowhere and people seemed to be aware of that being accurate. But behind the wheel, Corey knew exactly where he was going: he knew every twist and turn from their origin to the once abandoned cabin. "I see you are awake. Should've blindfolded you, but we are almost there" came a harsh voice from the front seat. Almost where? Bobby started noticing how dirty everything was, including the driver. He was on the back seat, but the driver’s body odor reached all the way back there. As Bobby and Jesse would discover, over the next few months, Corey was not only lacking hygiene, but also charisma, intelligence and confidence. He kept talking about his son, Ryan and how he kept trying to write him a letter to get the two of them to meet after he got out of prison and never found the right words. At the end of the road, there was what used to be a cabin but was now a sad collection of moldy wood panels that seemed to stay up because of inertia alone. If the Bad Wolf blew on this cabin, he’d be eating them in no time. “Get up! We have things to do! Move!” There was a lot of roughness in the way Bobby was led into the house and pushed down a set of stairs into a dark, cold and damp basement. After his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw a small figure in a corner and hoped it wasn’t a corpse. Bobby closed his eyes again for his eyes to adjust further to the dark and noticed that the pile he thought to be a corpse, was breathing really fast. It was a small guy, so pale and skinny that he must have been deprived of the sun and food the outside world had to offer, for a very long time. If it wasn’t for his fiery red, Bobby wouldn’t have noticed him, for he blended in too well with his surroundings. Like being invisible was going to save him from a terrible fate. And that might just have been accurate. His red hair, general lack of muscle mass, or fat for that matter, and the fact that he was lying in a fetal position made him look like a wilted flower and Bobby immediately felt sorry for him, but decided not to draw attention to the fact that he had noticed the other guy, just to not blow his cover. He wouldn’t have been able to take a beating. The driver yanked Bobby to the opposite corner and chained him, after which he pulled a dirty rag made out of the cheapest fabric possible. It was harsh, especially against the delicate skin around the eyes. To Bobby, it made no sense to get blindfolded now, after they had reached their destination, but decided to take a page out of “Wilted Flower” and stay quiet. From what he could hear, the guy walked away from him: his footsteps echoed on the basement, as he moved to the far corner. “Get up! NOW!” A single punch was blown and then a loud thud. “Dammit! Will you stop collapsing, you sissy? Change in plans then. You! Come upstairs and draw!” How did he know Bobby drew? The two guys that got him out of the apartment had asked for journals instead of asking for money or jewelry, so maybe they did know him after all. Bobby found out he was able to stand, in time for a harsh set of hands to brush against his, untying him. Other than the body odor, Bobby was able to perceive the scent of Cheetos and beer coming from his host. Meanwhile, all Bobby could think of, was that he would probably never eat Cheetos again. He was dragged for a few feet until he tripped with one of the steps he was unable to see, and a blinding pain took over. “Get up!” Bobby got up slowly and crawled his way to the top of the stairs and waited for shouted instructions while sitting on the floor, trying to assess how much blood was coming from his nose. Next, he heard a door being locked. “This is really simple. I will take your blindfold off and you will draw something for your lovely sister.” “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her, you psycho!” A solid punch came to his ribs, and then another. “I am the one calling the shots here! You will stay quiet and draw. Unless you want to get reunited with your parents tonight!” As much as the reference to his dead parents hurt, Bobby stayed quiet. Not because he wanted to obey, but because the punches received had left no air in his lungs. The hard blindfold left his face as harshly as it had been put on and he was able to see a room that could use some cleaning and tidying up. This space seemed to serve as kitchen, living and dining rooms. The dining table had seen better days and all the chairs looked like they had been part of different sets. There were empty beer and soda bottles, takeout menus and boxes scattered all across the floor. There was an old tv on top of a milk crate and what had been a couch a couple of decades ago. The flowery pattern on the torn fabric made it seem like a piece of furniture that could have been found at his grandma’s. Except that at his grandma’s, the flowers would have been pink, the leaves a tone of greenish aqua, over a beige background. Here, the colors were different: the flowers were brown, the leaves were black and the background was grey. How could anyone sit there and not lose a limb, he did not know. Luckily, he got dragged to one of the chairs around the table instead. “Draw whatever you’d like on this piece of paper. When Jesse stops being dramatic, I will have him write a very special message for your sister. After that, you’ll draw something on this second piece of paper. Don’t look at me like that. You’ll be here for a long time.” Corey sat next to him, a beer on one hand, a gun on the other, smiling. As he started drawing on the dirty piece of paper, Bobby thought this guy had the ugliest smile he’d ever seen, including villains in movies. Since I cannot write to her, maybe I’ll use these drawings to send Alanna a message. The question was what. Only thing he knew is that he needed to make his mind up fast, because the clock was ticking.













