Lost Hope

The walls were not thick wherever it was we were being held. The traitorous husband and I soon learned that if we were really quiet we could make out footsteps, mumbles, and cries from outside. Usually there were two guys to guard us and a tv.

But something caught our attention. A low rumble, a distinct car door pop, and voices we hadn’t heard before. We pressed our ears to the wall. “Mumble, mumble, aaa!” That voice we knew. They had brought in our oldest son.

In the dark silent tears began to run down my cheeks. He was our only hope, our only ally on the outside who could get help. I sank to the floor. It was the end. It was only a matter of time now before they started killing us.

I heard my husband move to put his arm around me. He knew the implications, he knew how I felt, and he was still offended when I threw off his arm and crawled away. If he would have just told them whatever it was in the first place..

“Aaaa! No!” I heard him scream. Then a gun shot.

View this story's 5 comments.