Status: Active if someone likes it.

Little Bird

Nothing Left To Say

The others Jessica mentioned were girls, a lot of them. Approximately five were still alive, although, she said, she hadn’t seen Allie in about a week. Dead, she assumed, but couldn’t quite say aloud. Jack never let her see him kill the others. She’d seen him kill some grown men, but not the other girls.

They ran away, he always said in hushed tones, but she didn’t buy it. One girl did run away, five years ago, and he’d blamed her for it. It was Jessica’s fault; she thought she couldn’t bear seeing anymore girls taken. After the consequences that had caused,—not to mention the fact that the dumb girl had gotten herself caught, so it was a useless act of bravery anyway—she never helped another person again.

Being slow to develop, in a womanly sense, is what kept her alive for the first few years, but being obedient is what got her here. Jessica was careful, so very careful, not to lose herself to her mind during the years with Jack. Whenever she lie in her bed, feeling reality slip away, she pinched the underside of her wrist till the skin turned whiter than she thought possible, and reminded herself of the sight of her other half lying lifelessly in his bed. Even then, with her eyes squeezed shut, she doesn’t remember what woke her up; it hadn’t been the sound of a gunshot, no, he always used a silencer—that much she knew from deals gone wrong, the men he’d laid out on the ground. But for whatever reason, that night, she slipped through the joint bathroom, because she knew something was wrong. The creak of the door alerted the intruder, Jack, to her presence and it was only a few seconds before she turned to run and he had her pinned on the bed, face against the pillow asking how to wake up from such a disturbing nightmare.

It was no nightmare, though. She opened her eyes, wincing at the brightness of the fluorescent lights. She spun the pen between her fingers, writing a letter or two on the crossword occasionally. Jessica took a deep breath through her nose, pushing the memories of Isabella crying and screaming her name. It was the first time he’d killed in front of one of the other girls. The large man’s blood sprayed all over Jessica as she shielded the younger girl. When she’d looked to Jack, his eyes glowed with an indescribable passion. It made her want to throw up, but instead she swallowed it and stood tall. She looked down when her leg began to feel warm. Izzie wet herself, another mess for her to clean up.

But Jessica held her tight nonetheless, until he put Isabella back in her room and led her to the car. She was sure this meant death. She would finally be free. Sure, she’d been on plenty of outings, never daring to speak to someone for fear it would just lead to more punishment. Head down, mouth shut. Despite all those outings, this was different. She knew days, often a week in advance, before he took her out. His little bird was told nearly everything near the end of her stay. This time, however, after staring at her for many minutes of the foyer of his vast estate, he just grabbed his keys and walked to the car. Jessica was ready to welcome death. Spencer was waiting for her. She sometimes could feel him; not in a ghost sense, but in an all too real feeling, heartburn before she ended up sobbing again. She stared at her shoes, putting herself into a trance like state, doing her best to not panic, because she really did want this to come. She’d never been able to do it herself, and he was finally giving her the ultimate gift. Not clothes, shoes, sweet treats, but peace.
Her eyes were closed when he dropped her outside the large building, Quantico. He reached across, unbuckled her, and opened the door. Jessica breathed shakily, her throat burning in constriction. And he pushed her out.

She breathed several times, rubbing the fresh scabs on the sides of her hands, reliving the last hours over and over again. Isabella was still out there. So was Hannah, Madelyn, Audrey, and Allie, well, Allie was somewhere else. Better.

Jessica suddenly felt very tight. She tapped her feet, but it didn’t help the sensation whatsoever.
Instinctively, she looked around for windows, any source of fresh air. Where is Dr. Reid? After they’d taken the notepad from her, she’d been alone with just her thoughts, a glass of flat Sprite, and the crossword. He always wanted her to be smart, the others too. She taught them everything she knew, and then they would learn together.

She leaped for the door and grabbed the handle—locked from the outside. No, no, she hadn’t been in a locked room in so long. Jack trusted her. She slammed what little weight she did have against the door, chest heaving. She ran to the glass and her fists pounded furious against it. It wasn’t more than a minute before Morgan opened the door and Jessica ran past him. She had no idea where she was going, or if the footsteps behind her were actually friend or foe, but none of that mattered. Nothing mattered when she made it out of a stairwell and outside. The sun was too hot for comfort and it was just a small concrete area, but she breathed it in deeply, the faint smell of cigarette smoke and stale air.

Jessica lay down on the hot pavement, limbs spread out as if ready for a snow angel. She had spent so long taking care of girl after girl and not asking questions when they disappeared. Her skin was on fire. She did always want to die. I should have done something.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she screamed.

Those words had been waiting so long to get out. Jack didn’t allow such language in his household, especially not from young ladies. He made it easy to stay young, stay interesting to him, if you followed the rules.

“Jessica,” JJ spoke from the doorway, shooing security guards away before stepping out a little farther and propping the door open with a stray rock.

She shielded her eyes from the unusually hot autumn sun. Jessica was so pale and still, if JJ didn’t know better, she might’ve checked her for a pulse.

Jessica said nothing, simply stood, and slipped past JJ into the building. She didn’t have anything she wanted to say. It would suit her just fine to not have to speak ever again.