5. Before midnight

[Emma]

The next day came faster than I wanted it to, and with it came an unsettling feeling inside me. It was pointless to worry about the feeling when I knew just where it had sprung up from.

I reluctantly placed my feet on the floor, and pulled myself out of the bed. I didn't feel up to starting my day, but it was going to be my last day in the house that I had always known as home, and I had no intention of spending it laying on the bed.

I shrugged off the thought of saying a short prayer, and headed for the bathroom instead. What was the point of praying when my fate had already been decided, and I could already see what will become of me?

Water ran in the bathroom after I turned it on, but it was unexpectedly cold, numbing my hands for a few seconds.

I left the bathroom for the kitchen, not to fix breakfast for myself or for my dad, but for a tour, one last tour around the house.

The house which had always provided me with warmth, and a deep sense of safety didn't feel the same today. Each turn I took felt like the road to hell, each breath I took was heavy and ragged, stretching my chest painfully.

The kitchen felt…different, strange even. The dishwasher felt too close to the sink, the refrigerator felt too afar off. The kitchen felt compacted, everything seemed off, as if someone had rearranged the whole kitchen while we were asleep, and placed the things in the kitchen too close to each other.

As much as I tried, I just couldn't ignore the change I was seeing, or the constant reminder echoing and re-echoing in my head.

Before midnight. Before midnight.

The reminder brought the limited time I had to my consciousness, and prompted me to check out the other parts of the house.

For a slight second, I thought of where to visit next, and my mother's bedroom came to my mind. I mean, what better time to go in there than now that I was sure it would be my last.

For years, my father had restricted my knowledge of my mother to her photos alone, photos she took long before I was born. He had prevented me from going into her bedroom with the claim that I was not yet ready to see her things.

But I cannot abide by those rules now, not when this was my only chance of getting this close to her.

I faced the direction of her room, with my hands trembling slightly. Despite my excitement, I couldn't contain the fear I felt. I had no idea what awaited me in the room, or how prepared I was to see them.

Maybe my father was right. Maybe I was not yet ready to see her things. But I had to. I need to see them now while I still can.

I took a deep breath, and continued walking until I caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was a few minutes past nine o'clock, and unlike my father to be in his bedroom still. So I headed for my father's bedroom instead, relieved.

After a few unanswered knocks, I turned the doorknob, and pushed the door open.

“Right!” I said when I met his bedroom empty, and released the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

“Right,” I repeated once my eyes caught a white sheet of paper on his bedside table, folded neatly, and with my name hurriedly scribbled on it.

My breath caught again as I picked the paper up, and held it close to my face.

“Don't be scared, I've only gone to get help.”

I didn't let out the breath I was holding this time. This… whatever this was, didn't make me feel any relief. If anything, it had only succeeded in heightening my fear.

What help did he go to get? From who? How much trouble will this get him? And if he indeed gets help, what will it cost him?

These thoughts repeated themselves in my head, and caused my heartbeat to accelerate. I sat slowly on my father's bed while my hand rested heavily on my thumping chest in a vain effort to calm it.

I couldn't tell for how long I sat numbly on the bed, and stared long and hard into space. But the sound of a car honking downstairs, and driving into the compound prompted me up, and saw me racing to the window nearest to me.

I pulled the window drapes open, and a heavy breath escaped my lips and nostrils in a whoosh. The black SUV with tinted glass which had just pulled into the compound was not my father's, in fact, it was my first time of seeing it.

I ignored my trembling hands, and fixed my gaze on the car, searching for anything that would give me a clue. My eyes caught the car's plate number and I shook my head in dread and disbelief.

The plate number was empty except for the crown which was crested at the centre. Mafia king. Zack!

I pulled back the drapes at once, breathing heavily just as two men got down from the car. The men had powerfully-built muscles and were covered in tattoos. Each man had a revolver strapped to his back, and the sight forced a prayer out of my trembling lips.

While I hoped desperately that none of them had seen me by the window, I couldn't help but worry for my safety. The house was empty except for me, and I was no match for any of the men downstairs. I was already frightened by their looks, and couldn't help imagining the worst.

I stopped thinking, and held my breath when I heard movements in the sitting room downstairs. They wouldn't get into the house without invitation, I told myself even though I knew the answer and the truth.

Before midnight. The voice sounded in my head again but I quickly shook it off.

It was here already, my nightmare.

I tiptoed to the door, and waited for for a few seconds before stepping outside. I was headed for my mother's bedroom. I needed to see her things one time before…

“Emma,”

A voice called coldly from the distance, and I froze.

I looked up slowly in the direction the voice had sounded from, and found the men, now three of them, staring down at me as a predator would look at its prey.

“Where is your father?” The voice came out cold and demanding. It sounded as if he was asking after a slave. Well, to some extent, he was.

I couldn't tell which of the men spoke. I didn't dare look up to stare at their faces, and there was no way to tell which of them was the monster Zack. From the brief moment I had stolen a glance at them, I saw that all their faces were covered in tattoos.

Now I could feel the heat of their gaze on me. But I didn't stare back. I couldn't even fix my eyes on the floor without trembling.

“He–he went out,” I managed.

“You're coming with us.”

I took a step back, and shook my head in disagreement before I realized it. One of the men pulled out a gun from the inside of his suit jacket, and pointed it to me.

“I-I need to get my things.” I stuttered, walking towards them, trembling.

The man with the gun turned towards the others, before he nodded at my direction.

“You have a minute,” He said with his teeth clenched, and without thinking, I dashed into my mother's bedroom as fast as my trembling feet would allow.