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Saving me for last. But that wouldn’t make sense. My window is the one open. He hasn’t left my room.
A shadow crosses over me as a cloth is pressed against my mouth and nose.
Before I can fight it, I breathe it in. The smell is strong as my eyes become heavy again.
Just as I pass out, a wave of realization washes over me.
It’s him.
Chapter 3
Rain
Water droplets echo. A chill has turned into shivers. My teeth chatter against one another, and my feet feel like ice. Earthy scents invade my nose. Like I am outside, it’s damp and fresh but also tainted with what could be sulfur, possibly. With heavy eyes, I rub my hand on the hard surface beneath me. Sand, small pebbles, crushed rock and dirt. It feels dry against my hand. My head is pounding like I have just been hit with a ton of bricks. With every ounce of energy I have left, I begin to open my eyes. It’s dark, and shadows of orange light flicker along the wall in front of me.
A sneeze escapes me, which elevates the pounding in my head further. My face scrunches in distress. Slowly sitting up, I lift my head off the ground. It feels heavy as my neck is strained and stiffened by it. My hands go to my temples and begin rubbing them slowly to help alleviate the pain.
As my eyes become fully open, I try to focus on what’s around me. Confusion takes over. Where am I? The wall in front of me is not a wall at all, but a dark stone. The light fluttering against it is fire. A single torch is lit, attached to the wall by what seems to be a metal holder. It’s completely silent all around, as a crackle from it startles me. Holding my breath, I wait for another, but it doesn’t come. My eyes are mesmerized by the beautiful color and dance of it. Shaking my focus away, I continue to move my body, still unsure about where I am and why.
My knees bend as my bare feet begin to rotate my body, and my bottom stays in place as I move. Loose rock and dirt lining the ground stick to my feet and rub against the exposed skin that my sleep shorts aren't covering. The stone wall feels like it is never-ending, forever wrapping around me in this small and damp space, that is until an opening appears. The opening is blocked by steel bars, similar to what I imagine a jail cell would be like. They are attached to flat pieces lining the top and bottom, which seem to allow the door to slide open. A steel padlock is on one end, closed shut.
My heart sinks as my body begins to move on its own. I’m on my hands and knees, crawling toward the bars. Curiosity has taken over, or it has only trumped my fear at this moment.
The space is small, maybe six foot by six foot but I’m not sure. Math and measurements aren't my thing. It only takes me a few movements to reach the cell door. My hand reaches through the tight opening, and my fingers touch the lock. It's cold against me as I slowly try to pull it down to not make a noise, but it doesn’t budge.
Letting it go softly, so not to rattle it against the bars, my brain begins to catch up with my body. Panic takes over my curiosity.
Looking up, another torch is on the stone wall across from me, lighting the area. My eyes shift from one side to another, trying to see where the long hall goes. There is no one else around.
I am alone.
As realization washes over me, biting my lip, I scurry backwards until I feel the cold stone behind me, ridged against my back. My head falls back on it as my eyes close, and my breathing becomes more rapid with each breath. The last thing I remember is being in bed. It was my birthday, and my mom had just said goodnight to me. Then I felt him, he was close. His presence was unmistakable— the same strange but comforting feeling I had when he was at the bar most of the evening, watching me. Then, out of nowhere a cloth covered my face, it had a strong smell and everything went black.
Someone took me. Someone has taken me. No one is going to find me here.
Tears stream down my face as I think about my mom going into my room and finding an empty bed. As she frantically looks for me, she will see all my things still there, along with my car and phone. Her only child disappears on her twenty-first birthday. This is going to break her. Absolutely ruin her.
I hope that when they or whoever they are, kill me. They’ll leave my body somewhere my mother will find me. Or someone else nearby. To give her closure and peace instead of forever wondering, is she still alive? Forever living in hope and what if’s.
I don’t want her to live a life like that. I need her to have closure.
My brain immediately goes to death because statistics say this will only end one way, with me dead. People very rarely come out of a kidnapping alive. It’s too risky for whomever takes them; the captured would tell the police everything they remember, resulting in the kidnappers being arrested. So what’s the point?
Then another wave of realization consumes me.
As the thought enters my mind, my lip quivers in fear.
I bring my knees close to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs in an effort to protect myself before anything has even happened.
But first, they will assault me.
The police or medical examiner will have to tell her that. Disclose it all. If I thought her finding my dead body would ruin her, this would end her. She would picture it and think of it every time she closed her eyes or when sitting alone outside in the morning having her coffee.
I want to hide and shrink away so they can’t find me or forget I am even here.
I’m so scared.
Chapter 4
