Update Non Fiction, Based on True Story 11/16/2014

Update Non Fiction, Based on True Story & Sneak Peek 11/16/2014

Word Count : approx. 20,000 not including completed ending

Have merged notes into scenes. Currently developing scenes and merging them into chapters. Chapter 1 – 4 have been created.

Snippet, unedited, Editing will be done after the chapters are created and before merging with the finished completed ending:

The Capture:

“I’m hungry Lissie” five-year-old Janey whimpered. “Me too” I said just fourteen months older than she. I don’t remember when Mommy left or when she was coming back. I went to the pantry just off of the little kitchen and found some Puffs of Rice. I looked in the refrigerator for milk, but there wasn’t any. I poured what was left of the cereal into two bowls and stood on a kitchen chair and proceeded to add water from the faucet when I saw something move. Blocking my sister’s view, I picked out as many of the little creatures as I could, focusing mostly on the ones that moved.
Darkness filled the house as the evening set in; still no Mommy. The lights didn’t work. Janey and I hid in the bathroom just in case one of Mommy’s friends made a visit. Crouched with our backs against the cold porcelain bathtub, we held onto each other securely. Too afraid to move in case one of her friends happened by, a stream of warm liquid gradually seeped from beneath us merging together to form of a large puddle in the middle of the floor.
Morning found us still painfully crouched against the tub. We were startled awake by the sound of the school bell ringing in the distance. Not knowing if it was the bell for breakfast or for class—no longer afraid of a visitor—I hurriedly went in search of some clothes for us. I brushed both of our hair and we ran out the door. Thankfully the school was practically in our back yard, separated by a somewhat busy street that divided the projects into north and south sections. We barely made it in time for the free hot breakfast that awaited us. Janey cried when we made it to the table.
When school was over we arrived home not to find Mommy, but a large white sedan with two strangers, one man and one lady, who beckoned for us—in phony voices like one would call to a stray cat—to come with them. She’d done it, just like she said she would so many times, we had finally gotten on her nerves for the last time; Mommy had given us away.
They were surprised by the condition of the two little girls that approached them. They were quite tiny; obviously malnourished, they wore faded, stained and filthy shift dresses that were at least a size too small, their hair was raggedy and dirty, and the skin on their arms and legs looked tan at first glance but as they got closer it was obvious that it was caked on dirt that gave them their Sunkist look. The scabs from unhealed wounds on their legs was more than they could take and they made their move.
Fearing their intentions, I grabbed Janey’s hand and bolted for the house.
I cried out for Mommy. But she didn’t answer. The strangers followed us into the house. They cornered my sister and me. With barbaric swiftness they lunged for us. Captured like wild animals we were carried kicking and screaming, and only released once inside the security cage of the backseat of their car.
Janey and I held onto each other for dear life as the strangers got in the front seat. We drove for a long time and then stopped at a great big brick building. The lady opened up the back door and told us that our mom was inside and to come with them. We were taken to a row of chairs where we were told to sit and wait.
Frightened, yet easily distracted and entertained by the chaos that surrounded us.
A bed with wheels, pushed by two policemen, a nurse, and a doctor, barreled through some swinging metal doors. Everyone was yelling instructions to the other about the man’s condition; he had a knife wound.
“BP’s 140 over 90, tachy at 160; minimal blood loss considering the chest laceration; gave him 300 cc’s of saline” Shouted the nurse to the doctor.
“God, it hurts!” yelled the man in the bed.
“Give him 60 of Toredol, don’t want to mix morphine with beer.” said the doctor.
As they rushed past us a scraggily old man weaved his way up to a busy desk of ringing telephones and more people giving orders.
“My chest…” The man barely whispered.
A nurse yelled for someone to get a gurney and then quickly rushed him away.
From somewhere down another hall my thoughts of where they might be taking the man were interrupted by the fearful vulgar screams of a hysterical woman.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up; I recognized that cry.
Suddenly the woman appeared before me, escorted on either side by two policemen.
Our eyes locked, “Lissie!” Mommy yelled. “Help me!” Her desperate pleas echoed off the walls.
She kicked and screamed violently for them to let her go.
She outstretched her arms, her face contorted in agony, “Lissie!” “Lissie!” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The policemen held onto her firmly as she purposely hung limp by her elbows, fighting even harder to pry herself from their hold.
I ran screaming and flailing toward the policemen, “Mommy!” but was quickly intercepted by a hospital staff. Writhing like a snake, kicking and screaming, I could not break free from my captures.
Blinded by hot tears, I stretched my arms out for her to save me as the mean ol’ policemen continued to drag her away.
“Mommy” I continued to scream “Mommy! I’ll be good, I promise! Mommy!”
And then she disappeared through a pair of metal swinging doors, just like the kind at the grocery store; the echoes of her cries still etched forever in my memory.

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