In the Thickets

She had been a fool. She had befriended people that deep in her heart she knew she shouldn't have. She hadn't even really known them , and she had let them into their lives without a thought.
She supposed the loneliness had just blinded her to the danger. She didn't have time to let her mind wander, she had to find him. She had been looking for three days now. Three days of agonizing over where he was, what might have been done to him. Three days of worry: was his asthma flaring? Was he being fed? Was he being abused? Was he alive? Over and over these questions raced through her mind.
Where had they taken him? She tried to remember all of the places they had taken her. But the drugs and the booze they had reveled in had softened her memory. Where had that last party been? God only knew. She couldn't even remember if they had been in her hometown or not, let alone remember how to get to the place. 'God, please, let me find him alive,'� she whispered. But she wondered if she really wanted that. Could she live with what they had probably done to him? Could she face him knowing it was her fault?


'Oh, God! This looks like the place!'� She tried desperately to control her sobs. Tried to gain a little control of herself. She turned off the car and hid it as best she could. She began on foot down the long country driveway. It was dark and she could barely see. She hoped that meant they couldn't see her either. She crept past the old farm house, some how knowing he wouldn't be in there. No lights. Where are they? She had no weapons. No plan. She just wanted to find him and take him away from here. Sweat was clinging to her face and neck, mingling with leaves, tears, and dirt. Bugs were dipping and flying into her face, drinking her blood one tiny drop at a time.
'Where, where?'� She whispered. Intuition told her in the thickets. She quickly went in with no doubt, knowing she was going to find him. Knowing she was also going to find him alive. Damaged, but alive.


She was as quiet as she could be, stumbling around in the dark. The thickets were full of thorns and briars that cut and scratched her. Her sweat burned the scrapes and scratches- a small price to find him. She felt drawn toward a thick growth of trees and vines. She thought she saw a faint flicker of light. There! She saw it again. She almost walked right onto a piece of ply-wood. It was standing at an angle to hide the candle that was almost burned out. She slowly edged around it, trying not to make any rustling noises in the leaves and grass. A small white hand moved so slowly it was almost undetected. But she saw it. Her heart leapt into her throat. His face was almost unrecognizable. It was dirty and his eyes were swollen and black. One eye was swollen completely shut and the other just open a slit. He tried to point to the man laying beside him. She already knew he was there. She nodded. The man was in a drunken and drugged stupor- he didn't even know she was there! God was on her side.


She leaned in to her boy. She smiled a wicked and vengeful smile. She whispered, 'I am going to ask you a question, my love. I want you to answer me and then close your eyes and sleep for a bit. When you wake up, this will all be over. It will just be a memory to us, a terrible nightmare-'kay?'�
She then asked, 'Did he?'� The boy slowly nodded and shut his painfully swollen eye. He sighed a sigh of deep exhaustion and slept. She looked at his bruised and battered face. She took her time studying that pitiful face, letting the rage build inside her. Then she slowly turned her head and eyed the perfect stone- heavy enough to do damage, light enough for her to lift over and over again. She straddled the man's chest. She glared at him with hate-filled eyes, vehemently whispered, 'This is for my boy, you b*****d.'� Then she slowly raised the stone.