3 Held Captive

[6 hours ago, before the police captured Zella Albert as the wanted murderer.]

"I don't need this, Mom. I can buy some meal on the restaurant I work on," Zella complained right after she ate the last bite of rice.

Her sister, Maggie, doesn't even care about her sister's remark.

Zella picked up the plate, placed it gently on the sink, and glared at her mother.

"Can you please have this? Your father doesn't want this at all. Your sister… well… she just wanted to eat veggies." Zella doesn't like those fried beef with a lot of veggies in it.

Although she liked the taste of the soup, it didn't fit her too well. Zella looked at her mother, observing her sunken eyes, probably of lack of sleep, and leaned her hip by the counter.

"Answer me, Mom. Are the three of you in the crowd of protest last night? I thought the three of you hung out from a restaurant nearby, as you said."

Zella's menacing voice made her mother's arm to lie down, and dart her eyes everywhere.

She's unsure of what to say. Her eldest daughter caught her off-guard.

"Zella… I mean…"

"Now I know why you always insist me to come home late. So late I can see the three of you sleeping peacefully."

Zella crossed her arms over her chest, pulled off a mug from the rack, and placed it underneath the coffee maker mouth.

"Or are the three of you not sleeping at all and just pretended to be one?" she added.

No one even answered. Someone's footsteps rustled inside the kitchen, and judging by the sound, it was her father.

Zella waited for the cup to fill up as she checked her Tempus Moneda.

A little hundred short. She needed to work so she can refill it up.

"Zella, the thing is… we wanted political change."

Her mother was going to explain when the air seemed to be so eerie, and she'll feel isolated.

Not because she's not a real member of this family, but because her principles differed significantly from them.

Zella wanted a peaceful life. Therefore, the politics has been set aside inside her mind.

The three of them, including her Dad, of course, protested day and night.

It was against President Tina Yunis ruling power over the country of Idris.

Zella only wondered what kind of benefit they gained from shouting all day at the middle of the street.

They must be a disturbance, a nuisance, a hindrance, everything… that could stop the flow of traffic smoothly.

Plus, some people got annoyed in the online community by how they make their life revolve around sparking an uprising.

Protesting all day isn't the answer to the abundant problems the government had to solve.

They may be the center, but the people, was the one who built the heart. The people of Emerald placed Tina Yunis to rule the country of ashes back then. To let them live as Idris.

Zella doesn't want that kind of protest life.

She took a sip, turning to her Mom, "After the political change, will we be able to eat in a restaurant after Tina Yunis step down?"

Paige, her mother's name, raised her eyebrows.

She's astounded. Zella continued, "Will we be able to walk in the park freely and being carefree about the time after Tina Yunis step down?"

"Zella…"

"I'm asking you, Mom. After the political change, will our relationship be closer than before? The gap kept widening, isn't it?" Zella stared at her mother for a full minute.

Paige doesn't back down, and even take a step forward.

Maggie, who was already finishing her plate of heavy meal for breakfast, drank her orange juice, not even glancing at their direction.

Zella pursed her lips. There was no straight answer to her question. How stupid.

She placed the mug with still the coffee remnants, and filled it up with sink's water.

Zella retrieved the side dishes Paige prepared, holding it tight. She didn't say a word, turned her heel back around, and called out her sister, "I'm out, Maggie."

"Yeah. Take care, sis." Maggie's hoarse voice uttered.

They both said goodbye, and Zella slung her bag over her shoulder.

Her father, Isaiah, who was retrieving her razor down the bathroom, halted in front of her. Zella ignored her, and went to the shoes rack.

"Did you lecture your Mom again?" He turned his nearly-bald head in her direction, and Zella's hand halted.

She stared at the shoelaces of her boots, and sighed quietly. Isaiah cleared his throat, tilting his head to one side. Zella met his eyes.

"I did. I was about to do it to you. But I don't have time to bicker to you. I have to go to work." She picked up her faded brown boots, and went to the door.

Zella pushed the apartment's door, and pulled the shoelaces tight. Her family was the reason her blood boiled down the drain.

"They're annoying." Zella breathed. Looking at the side dishes, she shrugged.

Zella went out of the hallway to the elevator, rushing to forget what happened in the apartment.

…

[1 hour after Zella Albert got arrested.]

Someone removed the covering in her head.

A blurry vision came, and her breath quickened. Zella doesn't know where she was.

The room was dark, only a center light illuminated the drab, empty table in front of her.

The seat was vacant, too. Zella sniffed, letting the smell waft in her nose, but there's nothing unpleasant.

It may be the man's scent. Her wrists tied together, the cuffs tighter than usual, and she's immobilized. She's trapped in the seat.

There must be a gun pointing at her head, and one breath will give them a signal to blow her head off. There were a lot of questions running through her mind, and it was excruciating.

Her family… died?

Zella unnoticeably spoke up, "Who killed my family?"

The man shifted in his position, muttering in a low voice, "You."

Zella's tears escaped down her cheeks suddenly. Is she talking to herself? She checked her hands, and there was no sign of blood.

She's certain she's in the store for nearly half hour of her duty. After she left home, she didn't text or call them, either.

Zella furrowed her eyebrows, looking at her nails, in her clothes. There was no sign of restraints, or even scratches from the victims.

Zella pursed her lips. Her eyes became defiant, staring at the two-way mirror, where her reflection looked back. Clueless of what's going on, she couldn't fight back. Scrutinizing the man behind her, he's wearing a gas mask.

It must be something he needed to protect his petty, little nose.

Zella snickered, calling out, "Hey, aren't you going to let me get interrogated, my Tempus Moneda will ran out if I stay here for 3 days straight. Time's ticking, man. I don't want to waste any second of it."

The door suddenly burst open. The man, who was behind her, cleared his throat, and no words came out of his mouth.

Zella watched the man as he made his way to the vacant seat, and took a seat down. Unbuttoning his coat down, he placed a clipboard, and wrote something.

"Hi, Zella Albert."

"Don't say hi to me if you didn't intend why I'm held captive. There waas no blood present in my nails or even palms."

"We'll see about that." Zella nearly kicked the table underneath. This is too unfair. Her feet itched as if something was clawing up their teeth in their skin.

Zella sighed angrily, and her nostrils flared. She sniffed, catching her breath. The man in front of her glimpsed at her chest for a split second, and looked back at his notes,

"What am I doing here, to be exact?"

"You're being held captive for killing your family. We found a lot of things you used for the murder. We're going to prove the evidences whether or not you have a lawyer, Ms. Albert. I was just going through some protocols before I explained it formally to you."

Sounded as unfair as it was, Zella doesn't know what the gameplay is. Creasing her forehead, she checked her Tempus Moneda, and it kept ticking.

"My time chip wouldn't last for 4 days. Refill it---"

"We will. We don't want the prisoners to be dead. After all, in just a single click, you'll die, but we didn't do it, Ms. Zella Albert. You're a convicted murderer---"

"How can you prove I killed my family, huh?! I was at my work for nearly 7 hours! And it happened right after I got to work! Didn't you even see the surveillance cameras?! I though the police and the detectives, rather, are doing good job with it!"

They're taking everything under control, but if this all went out, nothing's going to happen good once again.

The uprising might be taken out of hand, and the government will have no choice but to rain down bullets at them.

"We saw you there, Ms. Zella. I'm sorry, but we're doing our best to maintain a good country."