I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.
It sees the past.
And the past I’m seeing right now is terrifying.
“Second floor. Room 204,” I say into my headset.
Armed policemen stormed up the stairs. ON the other side of the wall that lined the hallway, their missing person writhed in his bonds as his captor carved a bloody pattern into his bruised skin.
Even in the safety of my office and deaf to his pained screams, I can’t pull my attention away from the horror happening right before my eyes. My fingers dig into my chair. How is it possible for no one to notice the torture happening right next door?
“Three men. Mid twenties to early thirties. First has cropped dark hair…” The professional side of me reports what I see while the human part recoils at the inhumane torture. What’s taking so long? Are they going to wait until the victim is…
Hands cover my eyes, turning my world black.
“That’s enough, Eli. We’ll take it from here,” Officer Farah says. Her thumbs are warm as they wipe the tears off my cheeks.
In the background, Officer Dennis says in a firm voice, “Our consultant is a civilian. Her role in the mission ends here.”
Officer Farah’s arms envelope me in a warm embrace. Even with my attention away from Room 204, I can still see phantom cuts on her skin and mine.
“Let’s take a break,” the older woman says. “We’ll let you know what happens after.”
Clutching her uniform with tense fingers, I bury my face into her shoulder and try to forget the silent screams.