Guess He Finally Snapped

Marisela hummed happily to herself as she walked home from college.  Spring break had officially started and she could hardly wait to get home and laze around her apartment.  She looked around as she headed down the long city streets, passed houses and apartments alike that were all so similar it would be easy to get lost like she had when she’d first moved into the city.  A variety of smells filled the air, from baking bread to burning coal.  All sorts of sounds mingled with these odors.  Children screeching as they played, couples quarreling, dogs barking, each residence she passed offered a different combination of noises.  That is, all but one.  It was almost dusk, when children would be home and adults were on their way back, but this home was silent.  She paused in front of it and stared at the front door.  There was an eerie quality to the complete lack of sound that caused chills to run up Marisela’s spine.  She took a few steps closer, straining her ears for a sign of life.  Nothing.  A few more steps.  Still nothing.  Finally, she reached the door and went to knock on it.  Just before her knuckles hit the lacquered wood, the door creaked open a little.  Driven by her curiosity, she pushed the door open and stepped inside cautiously.  Her heart pounded faster with each step.  Soon she found herself in the hallway.  She walked further, stopping when she reached the opening that lead to the living room.  A sudden, heavy feeling fell over her.  Her chest felt constricted and breathing became difficult.  With a long, deep breath, Marisela turned into the room.  Immediately, her gaze was drawn to the young man standing, hunched over, and breathing heavily.  His long brown hair hid his face.  It was greasy like it hadn’t been properly washed in quite a long time.  Slowly, her eyes traveled down to his left hand.  As they did so, because he wasn’t wearing a shirt, they took in the innumerable amount of wounds on his body.  There were small cuts, scars from deep gashes, bruises, burn marks, everything.  When her eyes reached his hand she saw that in it, he clutched a long, bloody blade.  At last, Marisela saw the man on the floor in front of the boy.  There was a deep stab wound about where his heart should be.  Dried blood surrounded the area as well as stained the carpeting around his, now cold, body.  Marisela gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.  After hearing the gasp, the boy began to turn his head toward her, inch by inch.  His grey-blue eyes shone through his curtain of shaggy hair.  Marisela felt frozen until their eyes met.  The pain and fear she saw in his gaze softened her.  Her expression subsequently transformed from that of terror to that of compassion.  This affected the boy.  He dropped the kitchen knife, allowing it to fall on top of the dead man.  Then, with quick steps, he approached Marisela.  For a long minute he looked into her eyes before falling to his knees and hugging her around the middle.  Kindly, Marisela placed a hand on the top of his head and leaned to rub his back.  Hugging her closer, tears began to fall.  Marisela pulled away and knelt in front of him before throwing her arms around his neck.  He hugged her back, squeezing so tightly Marisela had some trouble breathing.  Trying to keep her voice steady she said, “I’m going to call the police now, ok?  I’ll call them and you tell them what happened. Ok?  Do you understand?”  The boy looked at her with a somewhat confused expression, but eventually nodded.  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.  “Yes, hello.  Something’s happened.  There’s been a murder.  A young man is here.  He looks like he’s been subjected to long-term physical cruelty.”  She continued to describe the scene as well as gave the address to the house.

The young man clung to Marisela until they were taken to the hospital to get his wounds taken care of.  She stood leaning against the wall of the waiting room, replaying the conversation she’d just overheard between two detectives:

“Looks like the kid’s Todd Brooks.”

“Todd Brooks?  Isn’t he the seven year old who went missing twelve years ago?”

“Right.  He was kidnapped by his obsessive, abusive father.”

“I remember that.  Didn’t he lose it after his wife divorced him and took their son?”

“Yeah.  They were transporting him to a mental facility when he ran for it.  Went straight to the boy’s school and snatched him.”

“That ain’t right.”  The detective paused.  “You see the basement?”

The other detective nodded gravely.  “Sick.  Looks like the guy kept his son locked down there.”

“Probably afraid he’d leave if he was given the chance.”

“And those scars?  What do you think that was all about?”

The detective shrugged.  “Could be punishment for trying to escape or some kind of vent for his anger at his ex-wife.”

The other detective shook his head.  “Poor kid.  Guess he finally snapped.”

“Who wouldn’t?  Under that sort of treatment, I’m surprised this didn’t happen years ago.”

“Kid was probably too afraid to even dare fight back.”

Suddenly, a nurse’s voice brought Marisela back from her reflection.  “Miss, could you come back here?  We’re having some trouble with the boy.”

Marisela nodded, lifted her back off of the wall, and followed the nurse.  When they reached the room, Marisela saw things had been thrown onto the ground and scattered across the floor.  Todd was in a corner, glaring at the cowering nurse across from him.  When he noticed Marisela, his eyes lit up and his nerves relaxed.  She hurried over to him.  “They can’t help you if you act like that.”  She held her hand out to him.  “C’mon.”  Todd took her hand and allowed her to lead him to the table in the middle of the room.  He sat on it as she told him to.  “Now, it’ll sting a bit,” she said, holding her thumb and forefinger up, about an inch apart from each other to give him a visual representation, “but it won’t hurt nearly as much as it did when the cuts were made so don’t be afraid.  Understand?” Todd nodded.  Marisela turned to the nurse and nodded.  Nervously, the nurse got closer and splashed some disinfectant on a cotton ball.  Slowly, she dabbed at one of Todd’s fresh cuts.  He winced and gritted his teeth.  Seeing his reaction, Marisela held her hand out to him again.  “If it hurts, squeeze my hand.”  Todd stared down at her hand before taking it in his.  Although he felt pain a number of times before the nurse was through addressing his wounds, he never once squeezed Marisela’s hand.  He just held onto it gently.