Catch Them

I don't know how, I don't know why, I just know that, when I woke up, I was in a stranger's house, having a chair next to my bed, having my hands tied on to the wooden stick that constructs the headboard.

I think I might have exaggerated last night. I have a huge headache, sore throat, and a broken finger (I figured it out when I tried to untie myself using my right hand, accidentally putting pressure on my pointer). I take a shallow breath, seeing how my chest rapidly goes up and down. I'm wounded. There's no doubt.

"Aric... please tell me this is a joke." I squeak, feeling my calf getting warmer with my own blood. Nobody answers. He's not here, and I realize how pathetic I was. I showed my weakness in front of him. I did, and now I regret it.

The silence is killing me, and I take it in like the bullet I was supposed to receive from the mermaids. I want to feel little pieces of my brain scattered on the bedsheets, I want to feel physical pain, I want to feel how the pistol makes a whole through my head, and I want to get rid of myself for being too weak. I feel useless, and maybe I am.

I hope he will come back soon, or else I will kill myself by holding my breath in for too long. If he does, I'll still do it, but it will be easier for me and more painful if it goes the way I want. The first option is such a pathetic way of dying that I would surely feel sorry for the people who would actually try it. Actually, I'd feel sorry for all of the people who would try to erase themselves from this world, except for me. I won't feel sorry for such a dumb human.

The seconds pass, and my thoughts get more tempting. It would be so awesome if I actually could break the stick that has the same exact magic on it that the chair had, or if I actually could untie the ropes. I can't. I'm weak, and I can't take it anymore.

The door opens, and my heart comes back to its place. So, he didn't leave me alone. Wait. No. They didn't leave me alone. It's not Aric. There are too many footsteps to be just one, and I can hear their voices yelling at each other to go further like I'm real danger.

The door falls, and they step on it like it never was there, trying not to lose their balance because of the handle. I wonder how many of them really are, but I think they're at least 20. My blood stops rushing. What...

A tall, Asian man takes a step further. I can see his smirk trying to come out. I tried. I tried so hard to hold my tears back, but I can't. They just came out flowing like a river.

"So the anonymous source was right," the corner of his mouth twitches, and I can swear I feel his pleasure suffocating me. "You really are here. Well, there's one more thing we need to check."

The light is dancing on his wide, pale face as he gets closer. I just stay there and cry. I can't protest. I'm guilty. He raises my right leg and rips my pants, right where the cut is; I don't know how I got hurt. I just know that, when I woke up, it was there.

"Aha!" He yells, his pupils constricting at the size of a sand grain. "It's you! You stole the crown!"

"I didn't steal anything!" I protest, knowing it's false. "I swear, I was here all night! You can ask a friend of mine who was with me. Yes, yes, yes. You can ask Aric, and he'll tell you!"

The man laughs, breaking the stick in the first try. He grips my arm and lifts me up like I'm a puppet and not a real human. I sigh. There's nowhere to go if I manage to run. I'll get caught in the first second.

"I don't see anyone around here, although it's clear you were not alone last night." He whispers, not allowing the others to hear. "Although, I think you might think more about this "Aric" when you call him a friend."

I shatter when I see the smirk finally forming. No. Aric couldn't be the anonymous source, right? He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't betray his own friend. He yells, this time louder:

"Boys, search for the crown! Do not let any millimeter of this house untouched, clear?"