No Matter What the Cost

It hurts. Caaj, where’s Caaj? Moving hurts, I can’t scream. Seba’s thoughts screamed through her mind since her voice couldn’t. All she cared about was if her sister was okay. She needed to know that her twin sister was okay, that she was alive and breathing. Her pained yet brilliant hazel eyes cracked open, and they caught sight of the hideous, glaring, red numbers of the digital clock on their floor. It read ‘4:37’ but Seba couldn’t tell if it was AM or PM. Her eyes shut, before the stubborn, broken girl forced them open and made her aching body sit up. Every bone, muscle, tendon, every cell protested, but she ignored it. Seba had to know if her sister was safe. As she stood, she felt the damage her mother, her uncle, and the random men they had brought with them had done. The emaciated, pale girl, held her right shoulder, knowing it was dislocated or that something was broken, and limped, avoiding putting pressure on what she was sure was a sprained left ankle.

Taking a few painful steps, Seba paused, realizing that Caaj was gone. Caaj was still with their father in Huntington Beach. Moving herself to her bed, Seba remembered where she was again, what reality was once more. Her reality was she was locked in the basement of her mother’s home, with no windows, and a mysterious source of oxygen, with one door that remained locked. Reality was that she had been taken from her father and twin sister against her will, that for eleven years now, Seba had been beaten at least once a day, that she was called names and told she was a waste of life, and that she was raped on more than one occasion. Her demented reality was that she had been sold for her body, both sexually, and even as a tattoo tester dummy. A simple tear escaped her eye, at the realization that this was destined to be her miserable existence, that no one could find her, because she couldn’t scream for help. Subconsciously, the tired and hurting girl raised a scared hand to her throat at the memory of the skin on her neck being slit shallowly, each time her mother would remind her that the more she screamed, the deeper the cuts would become. And so she remained silent, and had so for ten years. The calendar that Seba had scavenged a few months back caught her eye, and she saw that as of that day, she was sixteen years old.

She sighed once more, and lay down on the old mattress that acted as a bed for her. All she wanted was to go home to her father and sister, and her step mother. Tears welled up in her eyes as she played the memories she kept so close in her mind. Her mother despised her, because she was her father’s daughter in every way. Though her tattoo’s and piercing were against her will, she had grown to be proud of them, and to love the look of ink and metal on the skin. She had the same hazel eyes, the same temper, and the same walk. Seba had the same cocky attitude of her father, always confident in herself, and always sure that one day she would get out of her hell hole and back to her family. Seba clenched her fist, telling herself that she would get out, and that it would be today. Grabbing one of the shredded shirts that was supposed to cover her thin and battered torso, she tied up her aching shoulder until she was sure it would hold in a position that was as comfortable as it was going to get. She then looked around and found that she had nothing else that she would want to bring. A skimpy pair of shorts lay crumpled in a corner, but Seba glared at them in disgust. Sucking in a deep breath, the captive girl made her way to the only way in and out of her prison and with adrenaline pumping through her veins at the thought of being free for the first time in over a decade, she kicked at it, shocking herself as it went swinging open.

Cautiously, unaware of what was going to happen, Seba made her way up the old and abused steps, holes and broken pieces everywhere, making the climb a dangerous one. She pushed the cloth that acted as a door out of the way at the top and peeked into the kitchen only to see the cupboards emptied, occasionally a broken glass, all of which was covered in a thick layer of dust. The doors to the pantry and cupboards were still swinging open, as if no one had lived there for years. Seba frowned, knowing that something was incredibly off about all of this. There were no knives or silver ware in the drawers, and a chair had been knocked over. With quiet steps, she made her way through the door way across the room, careful to avoid the broken glass, and saw the living room emptied as well, no furniture in sight. A searing pain shot through Seba’s torso, but she ignored it, keeping her mind set on freedom and seeing her twin sister. But curiosity got the best of her as well, and Seba started her way toward the hallway. In one room, a man she didn’t recognize lay sprawled on a filthy mattress, snoring lowly. Her pale face twisted in disgust, but she continued, finding several more rooms occupied with equally disgusting men. Finally, at the end of the hall, in the last room, what she saw made her want to regurgitate the non-existent contents of her stomach. The woman who had given birth to her lay naked in a bed with her brother, Seba’s uncle. Before she could turn and run, the glint of metal caught her eyes, and Seba recognized it as a cell phone. Without a moment of hesitation, she crept into the room with silent feet and easily lifted it off of the rickety bedside table. The silent feet carried her out of the room, and Seba dashed toward the kitchen. The backdoor was swinging open, allowing an icy breeze to sweep through the room. As she took a step out of her hell and into the frigid blackness of early, early morning, she said a silent prayer to a God she had never forgotten, “Please, let me see my dad and my sister before I die. Please, Lord.”

Seba took her first steps carefully, testing the back steps before actually putting weight on them. To her completely and utter shock, the steps were perfectly fine. As she made her way down them, she could feel the pain of her injured ankle growing and realized that she could only move herself for a little longer before the hurt got to horrible for her to stand. With the goal of getting to a place that would allow her to contact her dad or her sister, Seba made it down the stairs without any incident and immediately headed for the side of the house on her right. The side yard was completely covered in tall, dead grass, broken bottles, empty beer cans, and other useless pieces of garbage. Internally, she groaned. The simple journey was looking more like an Odyssey to freedom, avoiding rocks and glass, along with any other odd danger that might be hiding amongst the pale yellow vegetation. As the wind picked up, Seba started picking her way through the jungle of dead plant life and rubbish, almost forgetting that she had taken her mother’s cell phone. As she leant to grasp the rusted chain link fence for support, the phone was remembered, and immediately, Seba began scrolling through the contacts, pausing to make it a few more inches every couple of names.

By the time she had gone through all the names only to find that she recognized none of them, Seba had survived the treacherous walk and had a clear shot at the cul-de-sac. She adjusted the make-shift support for her shoulder then started to jog toward the street the little neighborhood opened up to. A crash came from behind her, and out of instinct, Seba sped up, the pain all but forgotten until she hit the street and caught sight of a bus stop that she managed to limp over to and collapse on. She ran her fingers through her dirty and matted brown hair, just trying to get it out of her face, before dialing the one number she knew would take her to safety. With shaking hands, the disoriented teenager dialed 9-1-1, then hit the green button. As she brought the mobile device to her right ear, she kept her left alert, listening for anything that could signal danger. Only one ring passed and a woman’s voice answered, “Nine, one, one, what is your emergency?” An unsteady breath passed through her lips as Seba rasped in a unused and strained voice, “I need help. I don’t know where I am, all I know is I’m at some bus stop.” A tear slipped down her cheek and stung one of the fresh cuts on her cheek. She kept herself where she was trying to limit her movements as the woman responded, “Miss, I need to know if you are injured.” Seba gulped and whispered, “Uh huh. My shoulders messed up, so are my ribs and I‘ve got a cut that is scabbed over on my cheek.” Another moment passed before the operator asked another question, “Can you tell me your name, sweet heart? Do you remember what it is?”

Blinking away more tears that just seemed to flow, Seba let the words simply spill from her lips, “My name is Seba Corina Sanders. My mom took me from my dad when I was five and I’m sixteen now. My dad is Matthew Sanders, and he lives in Huntington Beach, California with my twin sister Caaj Andrea Sanders and his girlfriend Valary… something, I can’t remember her last name. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what city, or what state. All I know is that I want to go home, I want to see my dad and my sister and I want to see the sun. I just want to g-go one day without being kicked or hit or thrown, and to just breathe and exist.” Voices began yelling in the background, and she could here sirens, but she wasn’t sure if they were from the phone or in the distance. The woman said calmly, “Seba, our computer is showing that you are calling from Los Angeles, California. We have police officers and medical support coming to you right now, alright honey? I need you to stay on the phone with me until they get there, though.” Seba squeaked out some kind of response and heard the woman’s now familiar voice ask, “Where did you get the phone, sweetie?” She wiped falling tears off her cheeks and answered, “M-my mom’s room. They forgot to lock the d-door to the basement or something and I got out. When are they going to be here?” The sirens were getting closer as the woman responded, “They should be there very soon, Seba. You are calling from very close to the station they’re being sent from.” Seba sniffled a little before asking again, “What about m-my dad? And my sister? I want to see them!” The willow-like girl felt her body shaking from sobbing. Her shoulder ached in protest of the sharp movement, but no matter how hard she tried, Seba couldn’t stop the sobs and tears she had held in for years.

“There’s an officer on his way to tell them. Sweetie, I need to know what you look like, or what your wearing,” the woman said in the calm voice that was beginning to have just a hint of worry for her. Looking at her lap, she saw her black shorts, and the dirty white t-shirt, relaying the information. Soon, after more tears and words over the phone, Seba saw the ambulance and police vehicles pull up beside her. Two men in blue uniforms got to her first and one asked, “Seba, I need you to tell me where you came from. Where is your mother?” Seba described the quick glance she had had of the house, and soon most of the officers were gone, headed to the house, but Seba was moved onto a stretcher and a paramedic asked her, “They said your shoulder and your ribs were messed up?” She nodded as the man unwrapped the cloth from her arm and after a quick examination, told her, “You have broken ribs.” Seba shrugged and nodded, her voice gone once again. Out of the corner of her eye, Seba sized him up. He was tall, tan, dirty blonde, basically the picture of gorgeous surf hunk. But all she could see was someone who was big enough to hurt her as much as her mom and her uncle combined. She saw him moving toward her, and by habit, Seba moved back, beginning to shake once more. The paramedic frowned and asked her, “What’s wrong?” No words passed her lips as she squirmed backwards on the gurney, moving away from him. Another paramedic came around the truck and noticed her panic. This one was female, but Seba still saw her as a threat, and moved as far away as she could from both of them.

Thirty minutes later, dozens of police cars were on the scene and arresting the occupants of the house that had held Seba captive. Seba, on the other hand, was still panicked, curled up in the back of the paramedic truck and throwing whatever she could get her hands at them if they got to close for her comfort. The two paramedics had finally given up, and Natasha, the girl, walked over to an officer and told him, “We need to get her father here. She won’t let us touch her, and she won’t talk either. I think she’s suffering from paranoia along with the physical damage.” The officer nodded and said into a radio, “We need the family at the scene on twenty second and fifth.”

Huntington Beach, California,
“Caaj?” A pale, blond, hazel eyed girl tore her sorrowful gaze from the bay window and looked to her father standing in the doorway. He gave her a weak smile, one that she attempted to return. Both Caaj and Matt Sanders knew what the day was. It was Caaj’s birthday, but it wouldn’t be a day to rejoice. Instead, the father and daughter would mourn for her missing twin, praying to God that she would return and that they could celebrate the day of their birth right, for the first time in eleven years. Bella came galloping into the ocean front room and vaulted herself onto the thin girl’s lap, causing her to cry out, “Ah! Bella, get off you big pain! Dad! Get your schizo dog off of me!” Matt burst out laughing, thankful for the much needed comic relief. After freeing his daughter from the weight of his overweight retriever, he sat on the window seat with her, watching the dark grey, stormy ocean. The two sat in silence, before Caaj asked, “Why is God so mean?” Matt looked at the pale sixteen year old and she continued, “Why would he let just Seba get taken, but leave me here to have a life that is better than I could hope for, while Seba is probably getting hurt and suffering because Amanda is absolutely nuts? It isn’t fair! She should be here, with us, living life the way that we planned to, driving you crazy in a good way, dating guys, hell even running around the park with Uncle Jimmy!” The muscular thirty two year old gathered his daughter into her arms and hugged her tightly while she sobbed into his shirt.

Valary Sanders watched from the doorway as her husband and step daughter embraced. She had grown to love Caaj and Seba like her own, after Amanda had left them with Matt when he was sixteen. When they had woken up the horrid morning to find Seba gone, it had taken every once of her self control not to go tearing through the country to find her step-daughter. To Val, those were her children, not Amanda’s. A doorbell brought Val out of her thoughts, and she left to answer it. Caaj continued crying into her dad’s shoulder, and her rocked her gently, whispering that it would be okay, that they would find her. As much as she wanted to believe her father, Caaj had begun to loose her faith. She worried that Seba wasn’t even alive, but something in the back of her head told her that her twin was still breathing and above ground. Val’s shocked scream of, “My God, Matt! Get your ass down here now!” brought the two out of it, Matt and Caaj sprinting down the stairs as fast as they could, meaning the champion track runner Caaj beat her father by a long shot, although she did skid into a wall on account of her neon green socks sliding on the smooth marble. Val immediately rushed over to help her, and Matt came to the door to see a man in a blue police-looking uniform. The new comer cleared his throat and spoke up, “Are you Matthew Sanders?” When Matt nodded he continued, “We received a call from a neighborhood in LA this morning and the caller identified herself as Seba Corina Sanders. Unfortunately, we aren’t sure whether she is telling the truth, but we are quite positive that it is your daughter. But she is currently barricading herself in the ambulance and both paramedics believe that she in is a state of shock and paranoia. The nine-one-one operator who answered the call said that she had been asking for you and her sister.”

Matt just stood there frozen before asking in shock, “You fond her?” The man smiled faintly and nodded before telling him, “I’ve been sent to escort you and your family to the scene.” Caaj gripped onto Val as her legs gave out. They had found her sister, her precious sister. Val gripped onto her step daughter as they all cried and Matt finally ordered, “Let’s go!” The three hurried out, Caaj quickly grabbing a pair of tennis shoes as they left, and crammed into the back of the police vehicle. The ride was a good half an hour, but the entire time Caaj was wringing her hands, trying to prepare herself for either seeing her sister for the first time in years, or finding that it wasn’t really her sister. Matt sat like a statue. He wondered if maybe it was a mistake. It seemed so perfect, her being found on her birthday and them just being brought to her as if it were nothing at all. Val glanced at her husband and then at her step-daughter, before going back to her phone and informing the entire Avenged family of what was going on. At a red light, Matt looked up from his lap and asked the officer, “Is she okay?”

Caaj looked up as well, and the officer informed them of what he knew, “She is scared. Of everyone and everything it seems like. She has a dislocated shoulder, her cheek is cut, and she has a few broken ribs, but other than that, she seems to be alright.” Matt nodded and the moment they pulled up to the scene, Matt and Caaj were out of the car and running toward the ambulance. As they slowed down, they saw a man in a paramedic’s uniform step in, then go tumbling out as something was thrown and hit him in the chest. Caaj sprinted over to the open truck and peeked in only to see a girl who seemed to be a ghost, but still, she knew that it was her Seba, her sister. But her appearance still shocked her. She had a metal ring through her septum, her upper left pierced on the right, bottom stud curling out. Seba was filthy, her hair was greasy, ratted, matted, and had crusted blood at some ends, although there was two streaks of pink died into her dark brown hair. Her cheek was cut, she was crying, and anyone cold see the multiple scars on her bare arms and legs. Caaj felt sick at the sight, that someone would treat her like this. Cautiously, Caaj moved so that Seba could have a good view of her and asked, “Seba?”

Seba’s head shot up and she began mouthing silent words. Tears welled up and began pouring down her face again as she clambered out and tackled her twin. Despite the difference in appearance, Seba would know her sister anywhere. The sixteen year old girls clutched onto each other for dear life as the sobbed and Caaj wailed, “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again!” Seba smiled tiredly and forced her frail body to stand on it’s own as she comforted her twin. Val and Matt began jogging over as Seba and Caaj separated, only for Seba to jump on her father as he approached and take in the same scent of whisky, cigarette’s and cologne that she remembered so well. Finally it was Val’s turn to embrace her step-daughter and she did with as much might as she could, sobbing just as hard as Caaj. Seba pulled away as breath was cut of from the tight hugs and rasped, “I missed you, so much.” The happy family was ripped to shreds by the harpy shriek that ripped through the air and they turned to see that Amanda was running toward them with hate and malice in her muggy brown eyes. Matt moved to act as a wall, but Seba slipped past and took the collision with her kidnapped, hitting the black asphalt with the criminal. But the smaller girl was quick to roll on top of her mother before gripping her throat and constricting her tiny hands. Amanda’s voice rasped to her daughter, “Go on, kill me. You’ve been waiting eleven years to.” Seba locked gazes with her before letting go and getting up, responding, “You so aren’t even fucking worth it, you dumb, self-righteous, drunk bitch.” Two police officers dragged Amanda away, screaming threats and insults at her daughters.