Captive

Privacy was hard to come by when cardboard boxes were all that separated ten different families. 

This was home and Zali loved it...most of the time.  Her mother, father and little brother lived in an area not much larger than a small caravan and one part was boxed off to form a bathroom.  Two holes in the dirt floor, one bigger than the other.  A small one for the toilet bucket that needed constant emptying, and one for the bath.  The bath was lined with black plastic, and this was the time she loved the most.

Bath time. 

It took her forever to fill it with the water that was boiled over the small communal pit fire, but it was worth all the effort when she finally submerged her aching body into the warm water. 

She could be alone with her own thoughts.  She was never alone, and she hated that.  She couldn’t hear her inner voice when so many people were around her, on the street, at school, even at home.  But when she slipped into the water, and then scrunched up her long legs so she could put her head under the water, the world was finally quiet.

Because of this Zali had gotten very good at holding her breath.  Eighty-two seconds was her record, she was at sixty-seven when she heard a scream, but muffled by the water filling her ears it could have been one of the younger children who lived next to her family. 

‘Just playing,’ she thought and continued to count the seconds she had been under the water.

“Eighty-five,” Zali gasped and smiled as she pushed herself to the surface. 

Before she could react to the sound of a commotion on the other side of the boxes a calloused hand grabbed her by the throat.  She was pulled out of the bath and up so high that her toes dangled in mid air.

“Found her Dre!” The man sung out as he held her terrified stare.

“Well, bring her on out.” Another voice said with disinterest.

The man holding her burst through the wall of boxes like he was a super hero crashing through a brick wall. “Huh, this is fun!” he was obviously enjoying himself as he dragged a petite, pale-faced Zali in a head lock.

Eleven years old, completely naked, still dripping wet from being pulled from her hole in the ground.  She was helplessly struggling against his heavy frame and thick arms. 

When her mother saw her lips turning blue through lack of air she screamed a distressed mess of words as she tried to free her only daughter from what was sure to be a death sentence or at the very least a life of slavery.

Several other people, all weak with malnourishment, tried in vain to save the small girl, but the government men were well feed and even though there were only five of them, they overpowered the crowd easily.

“Mummmmm!” Zali gurgled as she had the air knocked out of her when she was thrown to the cardboard covered ground.

One of the men held her down with a knee in the middle of her back, as another tied her wrists to her ankles and then her vision was taken away with a black bag over her head.

Zali had always been strong willed and continued to struggle against those who where kidnapping her.  “L-let me g-g-g,” she begged as she heard how small her voice sounded.  “LET. ME. GO!” She found the power to demand over and over, even when two of the men lifted her like a skin and bone bag, too awkward for one person to carry and the crack of her shoulders as they dislocated echoed off the walls of the now silent room.  She fought...fought against the pain...fought for her life, her family.

The pain and fear combined was uncontrollable and quickly made her mornings breakfast of wheat porridge explode out of her mouth in a stream of vomit.  But the bag covering her head captured it, forcing it back into her face, making her retch over and over.

Once they were outside, the air on her skin prickled like millions of ice shards were hitting her, like walking into a block of ice because she was still wet.  The group of men didn’t give it a second thought and tossed her into the back of the van. 

The man who seemed to be the leader of the group jumped in next to the bound and broken Zali, “Let’s see if we have the right one this time?”

The man who Zali first saw with his hands around her little brothers throat removed the bag from her head, “Ugh!” he cringed away from her in disgust. “What’d you do?  Spew?” He held her face from the ground by yanking on her long hair, then he used the bag to wipe away some of the milky foam from her face. “Your name Zali?” he asked in an inquisitive tone.

Zali’s nerves were shot and she was going into hypothermic shock, so all she was capable of was to shuddered and stare wide eyed into his glassy grey eyes.

“Not answering then?” He didn’t give her any chance to muster a sound from her acid ravaged throat, before he lived up to his short tempered reputation.  He stood up and instead of stamping his foot like the spoilt child who is used to getting his way; he lashed out, kicking into her side with his steel capped boot.

Zali never knew one body was capable of such torture without succumbing to the pain and finally giving up.  But hers did, and after dislocating both of her shoulders, and feeling colder than anyone should have to, the break in at least one of her ribs did little more than warm her up. 

The brain could only register so much pain before it switched off and for that Zali was grateful.

“Look boys....” the leader paused as he pointed at her and raised his eyebrows, “Blond, almost white hair....” He lifted her by the hair again, “Dreadlocks...  Black eyes...” he paused again as he dropped her face back down to the metal floor of the truck.  “Just bring the f...  Just bring the thing.” As horrible as he was being to Zali, it seemed he was trying to be patient with what Zali assumed to be his staff.

Through tear foggy eyes Zali watched as the thick framed man, who was the one who introduced her to her first taste of torture, quickly dart out of sight.  He was back quickly but now he held a sad wilted potted plant.  He handed it to the leader and then a tension crossed over the faces of all the men. 

Zali felt the same calm run through her veins that she got every time she was close to a plant, that she was close to anything that was living.  She felt at one with the little plant, and felt the fear that she knew it was feeling.  They had a lot in common.  Trapped, close to death and tortured by these very men, but there was a gift Zali could give to the plant.

The group of men watched with a child-like shimmer in their eyes and then their smiles said it all. 

Zali was the one!