It was late and very dark. They alley I was walking in was lit by only a street light near the end of the alley which was a few yards away. I couldn’t believe me, a fourteen year old teenage girl, was walking home alone here. Walking slowly, I studied my surroundings. The alley was a short cut that I took during the day but never at night, and this alley had gone over a transformation. The once normal brick walls looked creepy in the extremely dim glow of the street light. I remember I took extra care to listen for any sounds, so almost nothing could catch me off guard.
Eyes wide, legs jumping, a noise that sounded like a rattling near a tin trash can by the wall of an old house that was behind me. Turning quickly, I faced the direction of the noise. Now I know this was a mistake, because as soon as I turned around something on the other side of the alley grabbed me by hair. I screamed in pain as someone forced me to the dirty ground my by pulling my hair.
Everything that happened after my attacker got me to the ground blurs together, but I do remember a stabbing pain in my side as someone kicked me. Kicking, screaming, crying, pleading, I asked the person to stop. No matter what I did or said my attacker wouldn’t quit beating me. Losing all hope, I closed my eyes, and just let the person do whatever they wanted to. I did open my eyes for a second after I had closed them to see who the person was. The person was wearing a black ski mask, but I could tell that he was a man. As the arms of hopelessness grabbed and dragged me into its depth, I closed my eyes and prayed. I prayed for a lot of things, but I now think the things I needed was hope and the will to survive.
I was so focused on praying, I hadn’t realized that the man in the ski mask had finally quit beating me. I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. When I did, I saw blank staring eyes filled with curiosity looking down on me. That scarred me to death.
As I started to pray again, I felt rough sweaty hands pull me off the ground by my arms. He carried me like a groom carries his bride, for what seemed like forever until he bumped my head hard on something. Screaming in pain, my eyes opened quickly just in time to see my attacker roughly shoving me into a white unmarked van. The van door was slammed shut, and a saying I used to say popped into my head. “Never go into a white unmarked van.”
Lying on the dirty hard floor of the van, I couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen to my family friends. How was me disappearing like a ghost going to affect them and the rest of their lives? Were we ever going to meet again? If not, would they ever get closure?
Van jerking, I slid to the other side of the back of the van. I tried to sit up, but my hands were bound. I frantically back tracked trying to pinpoint the point in time when someone had tied my hands with a very rough rope that scratched my wrist.I remembered thinking about me sitting on my family’s red floral couch in my living room. I was watching a TV show on our unremarkable small television. Sitting with a reporter, a woman was describing her own kidnapping that had happened when she was younger. I remembered her mentioning that the thing she thought that let her do the almost impossible escape was talking and treating her attacker like a friend. I decided to do exactly what the woman said she did, so that maybe I would have the same outcome.
“When did you tie my hands together?” I questioned whoever was in the front seat.
“Excuse me?” a bewildered deep voice asked me in reply to my question.
“When did you tie my hands?” I repeated in a louder stronger voice.
“Uh, when we were in the alley. You had your eyes shut,” the deep voice still laced with hints of bewilderment answered me.
Getting courage from the conversion I asked, “May I ask where you are taking me?”
“I can’t answer that. Before you ask any more questions, I can’t answer them, so don’t waste your voice,” the person replied frustration tainting his voice.
I obeyed his order and kept all my questions to myself. I waited till the van rolled to a stop at a red light or a stop sign I guessed. Then I hauled myself up to the best of my ability. I was able to pull myself to my knees and walked one my knees to the window. I could see a car behind us. I couldn’t make out the color because it was so dark. I was hoping the people in the car could see me, but somewhere deep down inside me knew that if the tinted windows didn’t conceal me the darkness would. I was invisible to the world outside the van.
I tumbled back when the van abruptly stopped. As I struggled to sit upright again, I heard the bang the van door makes when it is slammed shut. Whoever was in the van with me didn’t worry about other people hearing him. Fear began to settle in the pit of my stomach. What was going to happen to me now? The back door’s handle began to rattle. Leaning away from the door, it crept open eerily revealing the jet black sky except for a few stars and a waning moon. I strained my eyes to see through the darkness to be able to see the person that had opened the white door, but I couldn’t see the person.
“Welcome home, sweetie,” a deep raspy voice told me.The voice wasn't the same from earlier. I guessed the voice belonged to a man that was hiding just out of my line of vision which happened to really annoy me because I liked to stare my problems right in the eye.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to blindfold you. I know you like purple, so I got you a purple blindfold. I hope you enjoy it,” he informed me almost in a mocking tone. I felt he was implying that he knew stuff about me, he followed me, and I quite possible know him. This fact scarred me. I felt hands, that really needed lotion, on my bare shoulders turn me, so that I wasn’t facing towards the door. The hands then gently lifted my hair and put the blindfold on me. I was no longer able to see anything, not even the darkness of night.
As I sat in the van blind and tired, I heard low whispering. No matter how hard I strained my ears, I could not make out what they were saying. Frustration taking over, I gave up on overhearing the conversion being whispered. Loud footsteps made by what sounded like cowboy boots on pavement vibrated my ear drums.
“It’s time to get you somewhere a little comfortable and out of this van. I’m going to carry you, but don’t worry your little gorgeous head. I’m going to take good care of you. If you want to scream go ahead. No one is listening,” the low voice from earlier eerily told me his plan.
While I was still in the van, I learned several clues to where I was and who was the person taking me captive. I think he is a confident male that took me somewhere in the country where there is hardly no people. He had most likely done something like this before and every detail was planned, even back up plans. The man was also strong.
The profile was taken from my mind as I was heaved out of the van roughly. I was carried through the night as cowboy boots sang in my ears. I was dropped maybe ten minutes later on a comfy bed.
“Who are you?” I asked the darkness fear filling my barely audible voice.
“I’m Ryan, but you can call me whatever you want, beautiful,” said the same similar voice.
A pair of hands rubbed my face, and pulled the purple blindfold. I saw Ryan for the first time. It was weird to have looks and a name for the voice of my attacker. Ryan was, I hate to say it, handsome. His hair was brown and shaggy, and he had beautiful blue eyes.
After my eyes were full of Ryan, I made sure that every detail of the room I was in was burned into my memories. The bed I was laying on was covered by red satin sheets. The room was painted a light grey metallic color. Beneath the bed, the flooring was a dark brown plush carpet. Sitting on this carpet in the corner of the room was a simple stereo.
“Do you like the room I made just for you? Each detail was perfectly planned. I picked the sheets because they wouldn’t show blood. I chose the carpet, so you wouldn’t hear me coming in for the kill. The walls and stereo is to hide your screaming. You look like a screamer,” he explained in a matter of fact tone.
“I thought you weren’t going to hurt me. You told me not to worry and that you would take care of me,” I questioned worriedly hope leaving my body.
“I lied.”
Thanks for reading(: Tell me what you think about my rough draft.
