girl in the basement

I sat laughing at a table with a beer in my hand and a man playing a guitar at the front. “You know Billy you haven’t lost any of that young soul of yours.” a man with long grey hair and a broom mustache said across from me. Another man said. “yup! 65 years old yet his soul is only 21.” I laughed and put my hand up to my chin feeling my bread. I then heard the door open and a pretty lady walk in. a song started to play and the girl said. “Come with me I want to dance.” I laughed and danced with her. I heard a loud sound and then felt a huge pain in my torso I looked down and saw blood gushing out of my stomach. The lady had shot me. “Give me all your cash!” She said pointing the gun at the cashier. I managed to say “stop!” but she turned back and shot me in the face.

I woke up in my bed with the birds chirping. My little brother looked at me and sat in a chair at my desk.

“So? Who was it today?” He said smiling. I said. “He was an old man, he was in a bar drinking, then a pretty lady started to dance with him, she then shot him and he died.” My little brother, Mason said. “Dark.” I got out of my bed and put on some sweatpants over my underpants. “Did you catch his name?” my brother said following me into the Bathroom.``Billy.” I said putting toothpaste on my toothbrush. Mason asked. “Um.. last name?” I shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve told you this before, I get dreams from past lives, not celebrities.” My brother groaned, I laughed rubbing his brown curly hair. I went into the bathroom and got in the shower when the water hit the left side of torso. I yelled. I looked down and saw a red stained wound shaped into a hole. A gunshot wound I breathed heavily.

I had had these dreams for as long as I could remember, my dad and mother took me to every doctor in the state to see if they could figure out what was wrong with me but all tests came back normal they all said I had a god given gift, but this wound on my torso was different. I finished getting showered with the wound killing me every time the water hit it. I put a pair of black jeans on and a short sleeve shirt I then threw on a Raptors jersey on. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair to the side. “Well someone is looking fancy for no reason at all.”

my older sister Cameron had walked in.

I said. “Um… gay teenage boy here.” my sister blew me off. I walked down the stairs. My father was at the table drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. I sat down and drank my juice until I saw something on the front page that made me spit my juice out. I started coughing. My mother said, “Gabe, what’s wrong, baby?”

“Brooke is missing?!” my father nodded sadly. She went to school and never came home.” “What happened to her?” Mason asked. My father shrugged. “Lia and Conner are at their worst, Lia feels like she should have been at home with her even if she’s old enough to stay home alone. Conner feels like he should have missed his basketball game too.” Cameron said. Walking down the stairs in a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her hair. I walked over to the first aid kit and ripped open a bandage, I squeezed rubbing alcohol on the pad and rubbed it on the gun wound. “Gabe, what are you doing?” my mother asked. “Nothing. Don't worry about it.”

“You have the first aid kit out, she's going to worry about it.” my sister said as she grabbed my shoulder and turned me around to see the gunshot wound in my hip. “Oh my god! What the hell happened?!” My sister screamed, getting the attention of my parents. “Nothing, I had a dream and the man got shot. It's just a side effect, it’s not like the doctors can fix it.” I said pressing the pad to the wound and rubbing for a while before taping the bandage to my skin.

“How long has Brooke been missing for?” Cameron shook her head. “A week and three days I think, maybe four.” I looked at her. “Cam, we should help look for her, she’s only 10, right?” my sister shook her head. “Lia and conner don’t want my pity or anyone's else’s for that matter. they said if by two weeks she doesn’t turn up the police will get some search parties out looking for Brooke Tate.” I sighed and went upstairs, my mother said. “Gabe, you should rest, that wound doesn’t look good. I nodded and laid on my bed as I shut my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

I woke up on a cot in a dark room that looked like some unfinished basement. I heard dipping. I turned around to see a bucket a couple of meters away from in the left corner in the room collecting a leak from the pipe.

I looked down at my clothes, they were scruffy looking, I had a pair of dark pants on and a grey long sleeve shirt on, I heard a door open. “sweetheart!” A man’s voice called out, I started to cry but it wasn’t my voice, it was a girl’s. I sat up panting heavily. Mason said. “What was it this time?!” I got up and pushed him aside. I ran downstairs and went to the computer. I typed in the search bar, Brooklyn Tate. a picture came up of her. She was in the same grey shirt I was in.

“Dinner!” my mother called. We had pizza tonight. I quickly got ready for bed and went back to sleep. This time I was in the same basement and I was crying. I got up and took a plate that was at the bottom of the staircase, it was a slice of bread and three baby carrots. I ate slowly and went over to the bucket of water to drink it. I could see my face. I was Brooke! Brooklyn Tate. I went over to the staircase and went up it, opening the door quietly and saw a man sleeping in a chair. I walked over to a door unlocking all the locks. I was at the chain when the man said. “I told you to stay in the basement!” I turned around to see the man with a belt.

“You know what happens when you don’t stay in the basement, right then a car drives by. I could see the man’s face clearly, he looked so familiar but I couldn’t place my finger on it. The man stepped back and swung the belt hitting me in the face, I started to cry. “Don’t come out of the basement!” he started to yell at me as he swung the belt.

I woke up holding my face. I saw that it was morning. I went downstairs and saw my sister eating leftover chicken. “Where’s mom, dad and Mason?” she said “getting new shoes, Mason tore the soles off them, remember?” I nodded.

“Hey , you okay. Gabe?” I said. “You know everyone at our high school, right?” she put down her fork. “I’ve been going there for three years so I know most people there.” I smiled and said. “Good! Where’s your freshman year yearbook?” She looked at me confused. “Um… it’s on my bookshelf, middle row.”

I ran into Cameron’s room and grabbed the year book. I put it on the table and said. “What page are your teacher’s on?” She looked at me. “I’m not telling you anything before you tell me what’s going on.” I said. “Oh, um… school project.” she shook her head. “On the teachers at our school? You don’t come up with good reasons and you’re not a great lair, Gabe.” I sighed. “Okay, nobody knows, and you have to promise not to tell anyone, especially the Tates.” Cameron said. “The Tates? Um… okay, I promise.” I started to talk. “I've been having dreams about someone that wasn’t me in a past life, and I think this kid just really needs some help and is praying for some of it. I’ve been having dreams of Brooke.” Cameron almost yelled. “Brooke! As in Brooklyn Tate?!” I nodded. “I saw a man that looked familiar, I thought maybe I had seen the person at school.” Cameron said. “Well then let's get to it.” she said, flipping to page 83.” I looked at the page and then saw the man. “Him! That’s him.” she looked at the person I was pointed at. “Coach Jefferson? He used to drive the bus that Lisa and Conner took at our grade school. I clapped my hands. "that's a great reason for thinking Brooke was abducted!” Cameron grabbed me by the shoulders. "You have to find out where she is, Gabe! That man was arrested for-” “abuse. He was hitting Brooke with his belt.” I went to sleep but this time I wasn’t Brooke Tate I was me. I whispered loudly. “Brooke, Brooke! Brooke wake up, we have to go! Brooklyn Tate!” Brooke opened her eyes and sat up. “Brooke, my name is Gabe. I'm Cameron’s little brother. She’s a friend of Lisa’s. I’m going to help you get out of here Brooke got up and walked through me. ‘She can’t see me.” I thought. I decided to go up stairs and see if I could find the address. I walked through both doors and read the number 2370 on Harvard street. I woke up and ran down stairs. “Cameron, called the cops. I know where Brooke is!” Cameron choked and stood up “where!?”

I said “Harvard street.” my sister said get in the car. We’re going too.” I hopped in the car and Cameron drove me there while telling the cops she knew where Brooke was with a story that she heard Brooke’s voice screaming. The cops came and I yelled. “HURRY! This man was arrested for abuse!" The cops kicked in the door. Lisa and Conner had shown up now. “Is she really in there!?” Lisa said to Cameron. Cameron said. “I think so.” Conner pulled Cameron aside. “She better be! Because I can’t watch Lisa fall apart! not again.” I heard some gunshots and then Coach Jefferson fell in the doorway and a man’s voice yelled “Brooke! Brooklyn Tate!”

A couple minutes later a cop walked out holding a little girl with black hair in a braid, a peach skin tone. Ripped up red Keds. A scruffy grey long sleeve shirt and dark sweat pants on.

The cop placed the girl in Lisa’s arms. “It’s a miracle she’s still alive. We’re waiting for an ambulance, they’re going to take her to the hospital, feed her, check her, just to make sure she’s okay.” Lisa nodded. Holding her little sister in her arms as tears streamed down her face, as the same thing was happening to Conner.

After a couple weeks passed I came home from basketball practice. “Gabe, come into the living room.” my sister said. “What’s up Cameron?” she smiled “Gabe these are the Tates.” a little girl then walked up to me. You’re the one who saved my life.” I nodded. The mother said. “Thank you for saving our daughter! How can we ever repay you?” I smiled. “Go home, then treasure, hold and love your children. Be happy.” the mother nodded and went home with her family and I was happy. Cameron said. “You have no idea how grateful that family is.” I smiled and replied “I don’t need to, happiness is written all over their faces.”