Illusive | Tim Bradford

five •

I'm in the darkness again.

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

My hands feel clammy, my breaths come out in shallow rapid gasps.

I can't make out my surroundings. Everything is dark.

Fear clenched at my throat, feeling as though it were suffocating me.

I'm in that place again.

The eerie silence of the empty street where I'd been walking alone after my shift. I'd been working on a dangerous and difficult case.

I hear footsteps. The same footsteps I heard that night.

But before I could even react or attempt to pull out my weapon, a cloth soaked in what I assumed was pungent was pressed against my face.

It was a sweet-smelling substance, but it's intentions were evil. The world spun into a dizzying blue and the darkness consumed me once again.

I was trapped. There was no windows. Just a small room that felt like a shoebox.

The air felt thick. There was a musty door that I could see from the floor, but even from there I could tell it would not open.

The only light they'd given me was a dim flickering numb that hung from the ceiling.

I pulled at my wrists, but they were bound together with rough, biting ropes. I could feel the cold, hard ground beneath me.

I found myself contemplating a way to escape. I could hear voices that were distorted and menacing as they echoed through the walls. My captors remained faceless, but they taunted me with cruel laughter.

It was like they knew everything about me. Every fear and vulnerability. They didn't hesitate to use them against me either. My time blurred and days and nights merged into an endless cycle of terror.

I could still vividly recall the overwhelming sense of isolation and despair that had settled in my chest during those continuous long harrowing months.

The nightmare played out like a never-ending loop. Each moment of my captivity etched into my memory with chilling detail. The feeling of helplessness felt overpowering.

Then suddenly, I woke up. Feeling as though I was drenched in sweat, my heart racing and I was unable to shake off the intense emotions.

I didn't even see Bradford approaching. I'd forgotten I'd slept in the on call room at the station. Concern etched his features as it always did nowadays. He knew something was off with me, but I appreciated how he didn't pressure me into telling him.

"Maddy, are you okay?" He asked softly.

I felt startled by his appearance, my eyes wide as they lingered with fear. I quickly wiped away a stray tear, attempting to compose myself. "Yeah... I'm... I'm fine. Just a nightmare." I managed, but my voice was barely above a whisper.

Bradford sensed my unease, taking a seat beside me. His presence offered a comforting anchor. "Nightmares can be tough," he spoke softly. "Do you want to talk about it it?"

I hesitated for a moment before shaking my head. "I appreciate your willingness to listen. I'm just not ready to explain." I spoke softly.

Bradford nodded, "I'm here always." He reassured.

I managed a small smile. "Thank you, Tim." I told him softly. I gently push his shoulder with my hand, "careful, the rookies will think you're going soft." I teased.

He shook his head at me, "they'll think it, but they're too scared to say a damn thing." He expressed with a soft chuckle.

I stared at him for a moment, thinking about how he'd confided in me about his wife being missing due to her addiction. "Hey, I know this is a sensitive topic... but have you heard anything about your wife?" I ask gently.