Her Captor’s Redemption

“Don't f*****g touch me,” I yelled at the abductors as they dragged me away from another group of girls. The abductors were randomly selecting a set I couldn’t guess under what criteria. Girls were kneeling on the ground. But I managed to be brave as I've always been “Who sent you? Where are you taking us? Answer me!” I got an answer. A hot slap from a masked guy. The slap from the back of his palm made me black out for a few minutes. I think I deserved that for running my mouth too much. I just needed to know these answers. That slap made the other girls compose. Life was going as simply as I had it. Then in the blink of an eye, a black car zoomed past me on my way to get some groceries. It stopped abruptly and two masked men bundled me into the car. Before I could scream for help, they duct-taped my mouth and tied my hands. Is this a dream? What is going on? Even if someone is to be kidnapped, why me? Who am I? What do I have? I'm just an average girl trying to break free from the shackles of poverty and help my widowed mother. Mother is going to be worried sick. That is an understatement. She is going to have a cardiac arrest if I don't come back home. Who is going to tell her that I was abducted by some masked men? Immediately, I thought of my mother and how things changed the day my father died. My father died a year ago due to a degenerative disease. We managed his health and gave him the health care we could afford. My parents were considerate people. While we were doing our best for my father, he would tell us that he didn't want us to spend all the money we had on his treatment. “Silent honey, we are going to take care of you, and you are going to be fine.” Mother said. Father smiled. He knew his wife wouldn't come to the reality of what he was saying. It was a Friday morning in spring. I woke up, cleaned the house, and prepared the bath water for Father. I knocked on the door of my parents’ room. “Come in, darling,” Mother replied. I opened the door. “Good morning, parents; happy Friday.” I do not know if it's going to be black Friday. “Good morning, baby girl,” Mother replied. “Let's get Daddy to bathe,” I said as I went towards the window and opened the curtains. The rays of the morning sun brightened the room. “It's a beautiful day.” I went to Father, sat by his side and shook him. “Good morning, sleepy head,” I said. “Time to get up.” He didn't respond. I shook him again. He didn't respond. Mother came down and shook him, and the same thing happened. I checked for his breathing and realised he wasn't breathing. I panicked, mother panicked. I ran out to call a neighbour who was a doctor in the city. He came to our house, entered the room and observed my father. He shook his head. “What is it, Doctor?” Mother asked with a heavy heart. “I'm afraid he is gone.” The rest is history. I have never felt such pain in my life before. Father had died in his sleep. A very quiet death. The mother fainted and was revived. Ever since that day marked a dark moment in our lives. One year now, and Mother could barely recover. She wasn't the vibrant and jovial woman she used to be. She says her soulmate and better half have been snatched from her by the cold hands of death. Now it looks like she has been stripped naked, everything has been taken from her. I don't understand the metaphor. But I try to console her that everything will be fine. “No, it won't. Things will never be as they used to be.” Mother would say. “I know, but we just have to be strong and move on.” I was her pillar now. Her consoler, her strength. Now, these unknown gunmen are taking me away. Do they want my mother to die? How would she cope? I wriggled. The men held me again. They dropped me on the ground. While I tried to defend myself, one of the men said coldly, “I will slap you again, if you don't behave.” That slap came in handy. It reset my head, and I was calm. No way I could fight these men. “Take her to the boss”, I hear a deep voice. They carried me and placed me on a chair and loosened the blindfold. “Hey, gently,” a Spanish man with slicked-back white hair commented. He was handsome and neat in his well-ironed white button-down shirt and black trousers. “Is she the one?” He asked. “Very well Sir,” One of the men who captured me replied. “OK, " he waved the back of his hand, signifying that they could go. And they left. “Who are you? What do you want from me? Do you want to harvest my organs?” I interrogated. He arched an eyebrow, shocked by my boldness. I could see it. I might as well need another slap because it didn't look like I was scared for my life. “If that is it, I'm not good for you. I am underfed and underweight.” What was I saying? Can you just shut up so I won't provoke these men to kill you? I cautioned myself. “It seems you have a big mouth. Not to worry, we can curtail it.” “What do you mean?” I questioned. You just don't learn, do you? I told myself again. “You'll see.” He replied to me.