All Your Firsts Without Me

by L.M. Terry

Cautiously, we move across the threshold. It’s not hard to clear, it’s completely empty except for a bucket used for toileting and nothing else. The girl is wearing a similar dress to the other women who were removed from the compound. It’s long, flowing all the way down to her ankles. Her hair is long but dirty and unbrushed. “Found one more in the basement. Get a medic over here,” Giles says into his radio. Slowly, I move towards the girl, crouching down beside her. “We are here to help you. Can you tell us your name?” I ask gently. The girl hugs herself tightly but doesn’t speak. I take in the state of her health. She is incredibly thin, pale, and terribly dirty. “My name is David,” I tell her calmly. She turns her head so she can peek at me. “David, like in the bible?” she questions timidly. I nod and reach out, placing my hand on her bony little shoulder. “We are here to help you.” She looks past me to the open door behind me. The poor girl begins to tremble. When her eyes meet mine again, she asks, “Do you sing and write poetry like King David?” Smiling at her kindly, I tell her no, “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” “Is my father out there?” She nods her head towards the doorway. “What is his name?” “James Declan,” she answers in barely a whisper, afraid to say it too loud for fear he will materialize right before her eyes. “He’s been taken into custody. Is he the one who locked you down here?” She nods but begins to whimper as medics begin to crowd the smal...