Help, I’ve Been Taken

Help, I’ve Been Taken
By: Kassadi Elliot


We were sitting there all alone. I look up and see your ocean blue eyes gazing down at me. You had a huge blinding white smile with your cute little dimples high up on your cheeks that have freckles spotting them very lightly. My fingers slightly ran against your skin, it was always smooth, as if you wash yourself with baby oil. I loved the way the moon gleamed off your skin. I turn my head and look out onto the water with the sun finally setting

I wake up frantically. I sit up panting as if I can’t breath. I have no idea where I am or how I have gotten here. I sit completely still. My mind is racing with a million questions. I start to panic, my eyes are watering with salty tears. A noise comes from the door. I look, trying to figure out what it is. I stare at the door handle, which is copper with rusted metal. It makes a loud screeching sound as it slowly turns to open the door. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real,” I tell myself under my breath with my eyes squeezed shut trying to wake up from this horrible dream. I don’t wake up. I don’t wake up. I try so hard to wake up but I can’t. I’m suddenly unable to breathe. A rag has been shoved in my mouth. I open my eyes and see a tall white man standing over me. He has greasy long black hair pulled into a bun and brown eyes that look bloodshot from lack of sleep. I try to kick and scream but I start to feel very drowsy and sleepyyy… 

I hear a sound coming from somewhere outside of the room I’m in. It sounds as if someone is making food on the stove with a pan. I can hear the sizzilling of something cooking. Then a strong smell of bacon and pancakes waft into the room as the door swings open. I curl into the back corner of the bed. It’s the guy who put the rag in my mouth. I sit still without talking then soon realize I’m also holding my breath from nerves. “It’s time for breakfast,” the man says with a grin. I have been starving so I get up slowly and walk behind him into the kitchen that was no more than 5 feet from the room I was in. He tells me to sit at the table so I do so. He hands me a plate and says to serve myself to whatever is on the table. I get some eggs, a tiny bit of bacon, a bowl of fruit, and  2 full glasses of water. When I have finish eating I am sitting there silently and my fear feels as if it really beginning to creep up on me. I tell myself just to do what he says, that I will only make things worse if I fight. He grabs my plate and glasses and sets them down in the sink and runs the water faucet over them. He sits across from me on a little brown chair identical to mine and the 2 other ones. The table doesn’t match the chairs like most dining sets do. It’s not brown but white with crayon coloring marks all over it. I start to observe the room so I don’t have to make eye contact with the stranger across from me. I see brown wooden cabinets with a white countertop. All of the appliances are old and almost broken but seem to still be working.

I see coloring pages hug up on the wall by rainbow colored tacs. The pictures look as if they were drawn by a range of ages. Some pictures were very neat and in the lines and others were just scribbles around the page. I start to think about how I haven’t been the only person in this chair. I haven’t been the only person here. There must be more people, but where are they? I look back at the man to see if he is still looking at me. He is. “Why do you think you’re here?” he asked me. I sat with my mouth shut. I didn’t know why I was there and I sure as hell wasn’t going to say I don’t know because that always ends badly in horror films. His fists slam against the table and everything on it crashes to the ground. Suddenly a rush of adrenaline has moved through me. I get up. I run. But then…

                                                         PART 2

 You grabbed my neck. You liked it. I know you did.

 I’ve been here now 30 days exact. Ever since I tried to run, the man keeps me locked in the room he slides whatever he needs to get to me through a slot at the bottom of the well worn wooden door. I haven’t seen nor spoken to him since I ran. 

I  always have this feeling that he is watching me. As if there are cameras in the room eyeing  me. Once I put that thought in my mind I couldn’t get it out. My eyes were eyeing every crack and crevices to spot a camera, as if I was a owl searching for it’s food in the night. I finally fall asleep right when I can hear the man waking up for the day. I always know it is morning when I hear his loud torn work boots stomping down the stairs thump thump thump. I quickly get up and try to clean myself. I’m always afraid to look un-presentable in front of him. I’m afraid he will think I’m inviting him onto me but I’m not. I don’t want to be dumb and piss him off.

He swings open the door. The door handle punctures into the wall  behind it leaving a crumbled in piece of white dry wall. “What do you want for breakfast?” He asks. 

I sit silent clenching the sheets beside me for a moment then say “You can choose. I’ll eat whatever you want.” I say this to please him.  I want him to think he has gotten into my mind. I want him to think I obey him and that I will never be disloyal. So then when the right time comes, I can escape easier with him not expecting it.  When I make him think he is in my mind I am really the one slowly getting into his trying to figure out every little clue to help me escape. I need to escape.  

The next morning the same exact thing happened. He came down the stairs with his  boots thumping. Thump Thump Thump. He swung open the door caving in the drywall a little more making some white dust fall peacefully to the concrete floor. He asked the same question and I gave the same answer. It became a routine. It was something that happened every morning that seemed to be around the same time of day. But what do I know? I have been in what seems like a dungeon with no sunlight or fresh air, no waking up to the sun rays beaming in to touch my soft face that has just started to crawl into awakeness. I have lost the touch of things I didn’t even realize mattered to me. 

 It is early, really early, and I wake up to a faint shriek of fear coming from above me. I listen, trying to keep myself from making the littlest sounds. I didn’t hear anything after that. I began to think it was a dream or that I was just hearing things. I forgot about it and kept my eye on the key of escaping. I tried to find out if he has keys on him and if so were he kept them. I plan to attack him. That is my only shot at survival.

                                  PART 3

 I wake up groggy. My head hurts and my throat feels dry and tight. I open my eye slowly and look up at the same grey concrete slab ceiling that I see every morning. I slowly roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. I run my hand under the warm water coming from the sink and splash it on to my face. I then turn the handle on the faucet to towards “C” that has blue paint peeling from the engraving. I take a yellow cup with a cow on it and put under the water. I chug the water as it slips down my throat bringing it to life with moisture. I try to stand up straight because my head is finally getting to me. I have nothing else to do so I go and make the bed. I tuck in the ragged blanket under the thin blue mat and fold it over like it is in hotels after the maids go through. I then put the pillow at the top and sit on the bed. I sit and try to brush my hair with my fingers. I haven’t heard the man get up yet. Usually I thought he would be up by now but I don’t know the time so I assume that I’m just up early. I begin to twiddle my thumbs and sing songs I know under my breath. I try to keep  my memory alive. I sit and recite the alphabet and my times tables. I also try to do math problems in my head and recite literature I know. I do this to keep me from going insane and to also help me stay smart. I need to be smart to win this battle.

It seems like it has been forever. The man hasn’t come down the steps at all. I haven’t heard the thump thump thump. I begin to wonder where he could be or why isn’t up. Is he dead? Did he get caught but the cops just haven’t found me? What if they can’t find me? All of these thoughts ran through my mind. I wanted to believe some of them and others I just wanted to forget all together. Suddenly a big crash comes from outside the door. I hear the man’s voice yelling and screaming then a sudden silence fills the room.

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