Betrayal Between the Lines

October 16, 2012
By musicaltheater BRONZE, Vancouver, Washington
musicaltheater BRONZE, Vancouver, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"life's not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain"

Betrayal Between the Lines

“Where is she Kurt?” I asked, pressing urgency in my voice.

“I told you man, I don’t know where your sister is, leave me be,” he said taking a step back.

“Give it up Kurt, I know you helped them,” I demanded, choking back angry tears. I heard a voice, it was my sister’s. I pushed Kurt forward, slamming his body against the brick wall of the alley, and as if the blow was to my own back, the air left my lungs and I fell to the ground.

* * *

Only a week earlier I would have told you my sister was a pain. I probably would have said that if she were gone, my life would be better. Mary’s only eight, and boy does she know how to push my buttons. Between juggling school, homework, and basketball, I had no time for my sister’s silly antics.

“Carter,” Mary’s small voice called from her bedroom. I didn’t answer. Mary tiptoed out and parked herself next to me on the couch. “Carter, can you take me to ballet today? If you don’t then I can't go,” she explained, teary eyed. I glared back at her.

“Just go away, Mary,” I replied in a stern voice. She looked at me, tears now streaming down her face. She then quickly ran into my mom’s room and I knew what was coming next.

“Carter! Get in here now,” my mom yelled. I stood up and followed her orders. “Carter, your sister asked nicely. You will take her to ballet. Do you hear me?” She looked at me, eyebrows raised into her, ‘I'm not kidding look.’

“Yeah, whatever.” I grabbed my sister’s ballet bag and dragged her out to the car.

The ride to her ballet studio was silent, broken only by her occasional sniffling. I watched her walk into her studio. As I pulled away, a man wearing a baggy black hoodie walked in front of me. I slammed on the brakes just in time.

I woke to the sound of men's voices. I jumped off the couch and looked out the window. The police were there talking to my mom. I ran outside and my mother flung her arms around me.

“What's wrong, Mom, why are the police here?” I asked, worry coating my every word.

“It’s your sister, she’s missing!” That’s all she managed before she nuzzled her face into my shoulder and sobbed.

I called my dad and he rushed home. The minute he walked through the door, my mom ran into his embrace. He held her in his strong arms and smoothed her hair. His green eyes glistened with tears, but my father would never cry in front of us. He knew how bad it would scare mom. I stared at my dad, the image of a perfect husband and father.

My dad was the positive mind in the house, as the days slowly passed by. he kept assuring us that we’d find her. But it had been a week, I had to do something. so I went to to my best friend, Kurt, for help.

“Kurt, open up,” I yelled as I banged on the door. I tried the knob, it opened. I entered and walked over to his work desk, figuring he wouldn’t mind if I just waited for him there. When I sat down a small envelope fell from underneath the desk. Curiosity gripped me, and the seal was already broken, so I took a look at the contents. Inside was some sort of address as well as something that had been whited out. Although it seemed crazy, I followed the address hoping to find Kurt.

I parked at the end of a long alley of buildings. I exited my car; 15301 the first building matched the address on the paper. I approached the bright red door and rang the doorbell. Kurt appeared, stepped out, and closed the door behind him. “How did you find me?” he asked.

“It’s a long story. I’m glad I did though. My sister is missing, I need your help finding her,” I explained. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I'm just helping an old friend move that’s all. That’s terrible news about your sister, aren't the police helping?” he asked, sounding half concerned.

“Yeah, but I can’t just sit and wait.” Kurt started fidgeting with his hands. He seemed nervous. “Kurt, are you ok? Is something wrong?”

“I’m just upset about your sister. I wish I could help,” he convinced me. Then I saw a face in the window. I couldn’t quite place him, but then it hit me. I saw this man when I dropped Mary off at dance, I almost hit him. I put all the pieces together and locked eyes with Mary’s kidnapper.

“Where is she Kurt?” I asked pressing urgency in my voice as I stepped closer cornering him against the wall.

“I told you man, I have no idea where your sister is. What are you doing?” he asked taking a step back.

“Give it up Kurt, I know you helped him,” I demanded choking back angry tears. Then I heard a voice from the building. I was certain it was my sister’s. I grabbed Kurt’s shirt and slammed him against the brick wall. And as if the blow was to my own back the air left my lungs and I fell.

I was jerked awake as two men tied my wrists to a cold metal chair. My vision was blurred and a throbbing pain in my head brought me back to reality. My sister! I scanned the room. There she was tied, like I was, to a chair on the opposite wall. “Mary! Mary are you ok?” I asked in panic.

“Carter, be quiet or he’ll hear you,” she said, her voice trembling

“You’re going to watch her die,” said a voice behind me. I turned, Kurt stood, knife in hand and sinister smile plastered on his face. He slowly walked over to my sister and without hesitation thrust the knife into her heart. His face displayed pure joy as he slowly removed the knife from her chest. Mary’s face contorted with pain. And horror stricken, I simply watched my sister die.

One day I will escape this prison where he holds me captive. I will torture him with the fear he birthed in my sister, and I will put Kurt where he belongs.
In his grave.

The author's comments:
I wrote this for my English class, and My teacher told me I should enter it in a contest.

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