Journal Entry 2

Posted on Wed Apr 19th, 2023 @ 7:43pm by Crewman Tetayn Wren

857 words; about a 4 minute read

I cried a lot that first week. He had tried to bind my hands behind my back, but he wasn't good at tying knots. Since voluntarily lying on the cold cavern floor with my arms bound behind me wasn't comfortable, I kept wriggling free. He yelled at me every time he tried to retie those ridiculous knots and stomped his feet like a petulant child.

He left the cave and came back with a chain and locks. I had almost managed to escape that time. I’m not sure how long he was gone, my sense of time was less than accurate with a lack of clocks and a case of severe anxiety overtaking me. I had freed myself of the rough rope, shaken the flow of blood back into my limbs, and made it to the mouth of the cave. But he was there, returning to the cave with surprise drawn around his bruised eyes. His ugly expression turned to an angry grimace when I ran.

He chased me down, knocked me to the ground, and forced all the air from my lungs. I fought those chains. He won the fight and knelt on my shoulders and pressed my head into the gravel with his butt while winding the chains around my wrists. The cold links, ironically, burned my flesh. Afterwards, I lay on the cold cave floor, damp from rainwater and my own urine, crying again. I shivered from both the chill and fear.

His name was Ortash Pet and he had a foul mouth. I knew his name because I could hear him talking with someone outside the cave’s entrance – and that was the name the other had called him. His rough voice carried easily. He was mad that he was stuck with me after he failed to capture my mother. He hated that I was crying. He hated that he couldn’t tie a good knot. He was terrified that I’d get away and nark on him. And most importantly, he was in trouble with the person who had hired him to kidnap my mother.

I never heard the search parties looking for us, so Pet had managed one thing correctly. We were far enough away from where my mother fell that my rescue was far from eminent. I’m not sure how he got his news, nor how he took care of his medical needs, but he came back with a repaired nose one day. The deep scratch across his forehead was gone. However, the bruising took a lot longer to clear.

On the news front, he let me know mother had been found and the search for my body was ongoing. He implied my father was involved in my mother's demise and he had been arrested. That seed of thought grew within my isolated mind. Did my father truly have something to do with this? Why? How? Why?

That question repeated over and over.

Why would my father betray my mother? Was there an affair? Was he a traitor to the Federation? What was the end-goal of my mother’s kidnapping? Was it because she was a diplomat? Pet wasn’t going to give me answers any time soon, nor was I willing to ask him. He seemed like the type of person who wasn’t bound to honest answers.

Pet left me alone in the cave after that. Hours passed. The light faded from the entrance of the cave, dropping me into solid darkness. He didn’t leave me with a lamp or food, no blanket or any form of comfort. I was truly afraid that I would die alone from starvation or that wildlife would find me, a free meal that couldn’t escape. My wrists were raw from my continued struggles. My bones ached from the pressure of the chains. When he came back in the morning, that was one rare instance where I was glad to see him when he returned.

Then he threw me in the back of his shuttle, and we left that planet (and my mother) behind us forever. My dad would never be able to find me. I became certain Pet would kill me and leave my frozen body in the middle of open space... My father wouldn't ever know what happened to me (unless he was behind this entire plot, of course.)

I cursed Pet and I promised I would haunt his soul, even in death. And if he ever dared to have children, I would haunt and terrorize them too. I swore that I would be a full poltergeist. It wasn't until I remembered the Pah-wraiths and added them into my rant that he took me seriously.

At that point, he adjusted my chains and made me sit in one of the passenger chairs. He held up a gag as he explained his compromise. He promised that he would not kill me - but, if I didn't shut my mouth, he could not promise to not hit me. My choices were between a beating and the muffle wrapped around my head, or complete silence.

I decided to shut up.

 

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