'i?c!niv fj' ' ' s" "' ,-." ' r beCNC Free Press November 1999 Pm? Some Words Of Wisdom Here- Something Really Good Or At Least Takes Up Space! Page 09 CONTINUED FROM FRONT PAGE... I ... like some piece of raw meat. Fear and regret rent her heart. Why hadn't she listened to her mother's voice, and not to that other one? Overcome by her fear, she began to cry. She had no recollection of time. She knew she needed to focus. There must be something she could do. She struggled to get her feet under her and fresh flames of agony tore through her, setting her wrists on fire. She stood on her toes, pushing as high as she (eould, hoping to release her hands from the hook. The ceiling was to high. She could not escape. Desperately she brought her hands together and Wrapped them around the hook. She felt the sharp, cruel edge bite into her skin, but she held on. The pain in her wrists lessened as her weight was transferred from the leather thongs to her grip. She breathed a little easier then and took a look around. j A single naked bulb hung above her head, limply suspended from the ceiling, its frail light barley affecting the darkness around her. The walls Isappeared in shadows. The air was cool and smelled of rotting wood and stale dirt, mingled with the acrid taste of old cement. For a moment she Ktually thought she was in an old well, but the walls were too far away. Then something moved in the darkness. Rats! Then the sound came again: The rustle of old leaves, the shuffling sound like feet scraping back and forth on a dirty concrete floor. Someone was with her! Dread clutched at her heart! Her fear jumped to new levels! She strained her eyes, trying desperately to see beyond the shadows of the room. She caught a vague glimpse ifllighter shadow within the darkness, moving slowly back and forth in front of her. "WHO ARE YOU?" she screamed. "WHAT DO YOU WANT MTHME?" fShe was answered by silence, and a soft scraping like the sound of old worn leather on cement. Frustration fired her anger, and in her rage she (truck out, oblivious to the pain in her wrists, wanting only to torment he who was tormenting her. Her aim was poor, her target indistinct; a mere shadow within shadows. She missed. He did not. A hand streaked out of the darkness, catching her squarely on the side of her head, and Jennifer Folanski slipped in darkness once more. I iHer awareness returned slowly. Once more she hung limp against her bonds. Once more she struggled to regain her footing. The pain in her wrists toobbed in unison with the pounding on her head. This had to be a nightmare. He just knew she was going to wake up now, and she would be safe ad warm at home in her own room, not in this dank, dark, torturous place. But she knew it wasn't so. Another odor was now intermingled with the foulness of the room. It was a strong, sickly pungency of sweat and tobacco. And something else. Whiskey? No! What was that smell? Jennifer knew le'd smelled it before. It was rancid, and reminded her of white smocks, Bunsen burners, and dead rats. She trembled, pulled herself up once more, tnrightened her legs, stretched her toes as far as they could go. There was some minor relief as she stood upright, and she almost cried. In the pricness of the chamber, a voice beside her ear stopped her cold. Hello, Jennifer," it said, in that same familiar tone. She tried to open her eyes, to turn her head so she could at last see this monster who dared do is to her, but she could no longer do that either. Something covered her eyes, blocking her vision, something soft and dark. Probably while I was konscious, she thought. That's why he's so close now. 'Cause he knows I can't see him. "Show yourself to me, you coward," she said aloud. "I how who you are, asshole, so you might as well let me look you in the eye." If only she could get one peek, she was sure she would recognize him. "Oh, you know me, Jennifer," he replied. His voice was steel now, sharp as a razors edge. "Not only do you know me you stupid bitch, but you're . kever going to forget me, either. Nobody treats me like that and gets away with it." J Look for Chapter 3 in our next issue. .-- I WONDER WHY BY DANTE I see her and wonder why I smell her perfume and wonder why not I hear her voice and wonder why I talk to her and wonder why not I touch her skin and wonder why I wonder why I'm no better or worse I'm not athletic nor smart I'm ordinary while she is extra-ordinary I wonder why I wonder why not I treat her well I act like a gentleman I bring her flowers I wonder why not Why is she with me? Why not