“These people have shit.” A blond man came into view near the hole, as he searched for things to look through.
“I know, you’d think in this neighborhood they could afford a necklace or something.” The other man had black hair with a bristly beard enveloping his chin.
“Look in that dresser.” the man pointed to the set of drawers right next to the hiding hole. The man with blond hair stalked over to the set of drawers, pulling one drawer at a time. He stuck his hand in each drawer, feeling the top, sides, and bottoms, so as not to miss any hidden valuables. My breathing had quickened, and my eye was so close to the crack of the hole that my eyelashes touched the dry wall when I blinked. I sat back, trying to get as far away from the entrance to the hole.
“Nothing.”
“Well, they said the papers would be in the house somewhere.”
“Jesus. They have rats.”
“Rats? I fucking hate rats!” The blond man said shrilly. I would hardly call them rats, they were more like mice, not big enough to be called rats. I had seen a rat in science class, he was our class pet. And the mice in our house, were nothing compared to the size of the rat in science class. The blond man was so close to the hole, I could see every pore on his face, as well as his receding hair line, and beady eyes. His eyes seemed to dart back and forth so quickly they blurred with each movement. His voice was high pitched, and he seemed to have trouble getting his words out, he had to shovel them out like snow on a driveway, heavy and wet.
“It’s going into the wall. I bet they are everywhere, just begging to come out and run across your feet.” The bearded man mocked the blonde.
“Shut the fuck up. I hate rats.” the man said looking at the floor, his eyes darting back and forth looking for any sign of rats. His hand slid into the front pocket of his coat,
“It’s just a rat, man, calm down.” The other man warned.
“I fucking hate rats.” He said, as he pulled a sleek black gun from his pocket. “They are filled with diseases, and their fucking rat tails are disgusting.” He pointed the tool at the ground, waiting for any type of movement. The hand holding the gun seemed to vibrate with twitches and jerks. He turned in a circle, keeping the tool pointed at the cement floor.
“Keep looking, dumb ass. We don’t have a lot of time.” The bearded man urged. A rat darted from the wall that I was hiding behind, just as he finished his sentence. The man with the gun shot wildly at the rat, missing it completely with each shot, sending chunks of cement into the air.
“Well, now we know where they are coming from.” The man smiled, and raised the gun at the wall that had become my refuge. He started on the left side, scattering the bullets into the wall. The noise was deafening, I covered my ears with my clammy hands, and clenched my eyes shut. I felt the first bullet below my rib cage on the right side. I didn’t know it was a bullet at first, at the time I couldn’t pay attention to anything but the noise coming from the tool. The second bullet hit my right thigh, it hit more slowly than the first. I could feel it hit my skin, rip straight through it, and move onto the muscle behind it. It traced my femur as it exited my right leg and entered my left leg’s knee cap. The bone stopped it. It sat under my skin, creating a bulge like a large tic.
I stared at the intruder under my skin, my eyes dry from lack of blinking. The intruders of the house had left, their pockets and guns empty. I still hadn’t taken my eyes off the tic near my knee cap, when I started to feel the pain in my side. I turned my head to see a puddle of my blood leaking from under my rib cage, it didn’t hurt like I thought getting shot would. Not that I ever thought I would be shot. It felt like a shot at the doctors office, except the needle was filled with some sort of hot liquid. It spread out from the hole slowly. Through my belly, up to my chest, in my neck, to my face. I felt very hot at first, but then the second needle in my knee produced a cold liquid that traveled faster than the first needle. It covered me like a blanket of ice.
I wanted to lay down because I felt dizzy, but there was no room to lie down. I wanted to get out of the hiding place, I wanted to crawl out into the house and call for help. But, I was so tired, and my limbs felt like they weighed more than they had ever weighed before. My arms were at my sides, my right hand in the puddle of my blood pooling in the blanket, my head leaned against the wall. My eyes were so heavy, it was taking ever ounce of energy I had to keep them open, I just had to wait for my parents to get home, I would knock on the wall, and they would find me. They would know what to do.
* * *
My cheeks, once plump, are beginning to dull, my hands begin to decay. My blue dress with white flowers fades, but stays in place, even with the rats pawing at my finger nails. The police search our house, but after awhile they give up on finding any leads or me. Eventually, I start to fade into the walls, and a stench leaks into the house from the ventilation system I hide in. Dad can’t quite seem to pinpoint the source of the smell, he searches to appease my mothers plea, but can’t see me.
Ben is probably the most devastated of my siblings, he is the closest in age to me. And even though he always picks on me, I think he misses me. He is always in the basement talking to me, he doesn’t know I am here, but he talks to me like he knows I am. Sometimes, I talk back to him, to try and draw him to me, to show him the bullet behind the wooden armoire. To help him see me.
John graduated high school, he had his graduation party in the basement, while my parents were out of town. I watched all the boys and girls sway back in forth with the essence of alcohol lingering in their veins. Ruth made the volleyball team her freshman year, she was always good at sports and things like that. Her friends practice their moves in basement, and check their makeup in the mirror I hide behind. I pretend I am them, tracing their lips with the scarlet wax, lining their eyes with black pencils, and straightening their tight fitting shirts, sucking in their bellies. Ben got his first girlfriend this year. They steal kisses on the couch in the basement, his hands search her body for something, but he can never seem to find it. She is pretty, her face blushes and she releases a giggle when he kisses her neck.
* * *
On moving day, my parents pack my things. They carry my bed outside to the moving van, with my dresser, and mirror, and all my toys and books. Ben and John are older now and can help my dad lift the heavier things. My dad and John lift the armoire from the basement and prepare to carry it up the stairs to the living room, when Ben eyes something gold in the corner. He allows John and Dad to remove the armoire, and waits for their eyes to be somewhere else before examining the gold piece in the corner.
He bends down to eye level with me, and picks up the tiny gold bullet. His eyes grow wider as he realizes what it is. I tell him to go show Dad, and tell him where he found it. But, Ben drops the gold into his pocket and calls up for John to come down.
“What?” John asks hurriedly, ready to get everything out of the house and on their way. Ben’s eyes begin to well up with sadness in liquid form as he pulls the bullet from his pocket.
“I found this behind the armoire.” His bottom lip quivers as he hands it to John. John looks down at the tiny gold bullet in his hand, and sucks in his breathe as he realizes what it is.
“Do you think…” John couldn’t finish his sentence. Dad hops down the stairs, a large smile on his face.
“I think that’s everything!” He says as he descends, “Oh come on guys. Don’t cry, we are all men now, and besides its just a house.” He laughs.
“Dad,” John turns to him, “we found this in the corner, where the armoire was.” Mom was next to come down the stairs with a smile on her face, it quickly leaves as my Dad explains the situation. I want so badly to hug her, as she falls into my fathers arms. The sobs that come from her soul shaking, as she realizes her daughter is dead, and there is something to prove it.
Ruth calls the police.
I smile as the wall is torn down, and my mother, my father, and siblings finally see me. They see me.
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