The envelopes details

The envelopes details(Charlotte louise) I was without a care in the world until I opened the envelope. Normality was snatched away from me in a split second, as soon as I removed the contents from the musky beige parcel that presented itself to me. Inside: a lock of glossy blonde hair, a small photo and a note. I tentatively unfurled the photo from the exposed corner with today’s date printed delicately on the paper, just to have the oxygen extracted from my weakened lungs as the realization hit me... It was my little boy. My petite four year old son shrivelled in a desolate dreary corner, blue eyes wide with fear. Tears streamed silently down my face like rain as I noticed the section missing from his hair that I was now holding in my quivering pale hand. Dropping the hideous image I then took the note. Word processed and printed on standard paper the note simply read “Answer the phone.”

At that precise moment the shrill ring of my phone pierced my eardrums. Mechanically I did as the note had told me. “Hello.” A hoarse croak escaped my windpipe. An unknown voice answered, “Your son is just a precaution, do as I say and nothing more will happen to him.” The voice was electronic, a simulation. It only made me more terrified. “If anyone becomes aware of your mission you will never see him again. Fail to do as we ask, he will die. Understand?”

“Yes.” I gasped.

“Good. You will receive further instructions via mail, and remember your son is easily disposable.” The line went dead. I fell to the floor clutching the phone and the note in my hand. Fear convulsing through my rigid body as the information etched itself into my brain. Hair littered the icy floor, and the photo, it lay there face up reminding me of what was at stake, of what I had to protect.

Oblivious to time passing I just sat on the floor and tried to collect my thoughts. Disjointed from the world my vision wandered over to the towering front door, a small note was peering through the letterbox. Crawling over to the door half of me wanted to turn away and hide, but I knew I had no choice; I had to save my son. The note told me the details of my mission; I wretched at the prospect of murdering an innocent person. I had to. There was no other option. The note gave me details of the location of a gun, a photo of my target and the reminder of the situation that my son was in. Peering into the torrential downpour the lingering thought of the phone call haunted my memories. Slipping into the storm I ran towards the street.

Tactfully positioning myself behind the rotting wood of a shed door I had the perfect view of the High street whilst waiting for my target’s appearance. I tried not to think of the eerie phone conversation, the voice telling me how my son was easily disposable. They wouldn’t, they couldn’t. Deep down though I knew they were killers. Selecting my target from the crowds of people would be nearly impossible, actually committing the deed itself... even harder. Conveniently enough the man in the photo strolled into view after a few minutes of waiting, my finger danced across the trigger as I steadied my hand and aimed for his slightly oversized head. I didn’t even feel the gun flinch in my hand, but the damage was done. Lowering the gun to the floor I could hear no voices, only a soft humming that altered in pitch. Lifting my head towards the street I observed a middle aged woman extending her bony index finger in my direction. I turned, and ran.

Returning to my house did nothing to settle my head; it pounded as though a herd of elephants were charging through my mind. Almost expecting to see the small note on the mahogany table I picked it up, along with the small white box beside it, and carried it through to the kitchen at the rear of the house. Sinking to the tiled floor I took the note in my quivering hands and opened it. “You have failed us.” My breath caught in my chest. “And for that you must pay the price. We told you to be careful, to make sure no one was aware of your actions. You were seen, and for that you will be punished.” Fear pulsed through my heated veins. Not my son. “Don’t worry though; you will be able to look into your son’s eyes again. Open the box.” The breath escaped my body with a blissful sigh. Hope flooded my whole body. I tingled with joy, the promise of seeing him again made me feel lightheaded and dizzy. I stumbled over to the box I had left on the opposite side of the kitchen. Clasping my numb hands around the sides I tore off the lid that read “Your reward.” As promised, staring at me from inside the box were his bright, blue, lifeless eyeballs.