How to Save a Life

This old rickety shack of a house was far from creepy. It wasn’t normal. The random creaking of the floor boards. The echo of the wind though the holes in the wall. The cries of the others.

Runaway was the word that described my name. Prisoner in my words. I have been here for exactly one year. Haven’t seen anyone in that long as well. No sunlight, no fresh air. Nothing but the voice of my captor though the thick oak door.

He used to come about once every two weeks. But since I was one of his first people to have been kidnapped by him, he spent most of his time with the newbies-which was what he called them. They were the newest people he had brought here. But believe me, I don’t care who he talks to. I’d rather he talk to someone else besides me. It just made me all the more uncomfortable when the softness of his voice calmed me down. Soothed my fears of this place. But when he left, I wanted to smack myself for giving into that voice. For listening to it, and doing what it wanted me to do. I shouldn’t even allow him to speak with me. Let alone allow myself to speak back. It just wasn’t right. Though maybe- deep down, I believe that if I talk with him, he might let me go eventually.

I pulled the thin blanket up to my chest. Shivering. This room was small because he thought it’d be easier to heat in the winter. He had explained it when I asked him the first time. When I was trying to find a way out. It never happened though, I chickened out each time.

Though really, this room was the smallest I’ve ever seen. The mattress he gave me took up most all of the floor. Granted it was a queen sized mattress. There was a small walk way at the end of it by the door, it was put there for the tray that my food was on. So it could fit underneath the door. Also so I had a way to reach my small bathroom, which contained a shower and a toilet. The only fresh air I got was from the window that was covered in a small mesh metal. That’s it. My life contained this, and this was it. But it’s better than being dead. I’ll admit to that.

I didn’t think that in the beginning though. Who would? I hated it here. I hated him for steeling me. So what if my life was horrible, that no one cared if I was alive. But I was free. I hated him for taking that away from me.

He took me when I was 16. I was in an orphanage. Rotting, really. No friends, no family. The one person I had close to a mother, died a week before this all happened. That’s why the news said I ran away. Because I was a troubled kid with no one. My case lasted just about three weeks, and then they gave up. The man who took me used to boast about it all the time, getting annoyed when I cried about it. But he only brought that up when I was blowing up on him. Other than that, he was really nice. Even when he took me he was nice about it. Slipped some drugs into my food at a restaurant I was eating at. Then took me away while I was asleep. No attack or anything like that. I was grateful for that. I knew for a fact the other people here weren’t that lucky. Because I could always hear him arguing with them. Saying he was sorry but he didn’t have a choice. That they made him attack. But after a few days of their non-stop screams for help, they suddenly stopped. I think he killed them, that petrified me. That was what stopped me from cursing him out, screaming at him for hours.

I hear a door creak open. Then one others. “Let’s go.” They were crazy. He’d catch them. He always catches them. It was surprising to hear that this voice was a man’s. He never took men. No wonder this guy had the guts to run.

“What about that girl?” A soft women’s voice demanded. I froze. They couldn’t mean me could they? I’m not leaving. I don’t think I can. He’d come for me. He’s always threatened that. He’s even went as far as telling me that he’d hurt me. He’s never truly hurt me. I don’t want him to have a reason to. My door’s handle yanked open. Then man poked his head in. An older man. Thirty maybe. Bald. Skinny. Defiantly weak.

“Come on, sweetie. I can get you out of here too.” He insisted. Starting to walk in, seeing if I’d need help. Which I would. But I wasn’t leaving. I won’t put these people in danger. I’d hurt their chances of getting away.

“No, go. He’ll come after me.” I whimpered. Knowing I should go. But if I die here, I want to say I saved someone’s life. “Go, please. Run.”

“I’m not leaving you here. I can’t do that.” He informed.

“Please just go. I want you to. He’ll be back soon; he’ll know to follow your footprints in the snow. He’ll move faster if I’m with you. Just send help here.” I insisted. “They’ll catch him if you know where this place is.”

“…” He looked pained to leave me here. But I knew he would. He had a chance to save himself, and who I assume is his wife. Why would he turn that down? He knows I‘m extra weight to drag along. He knows that our captor would come after me. That the man that held us, also held a liking for me. Simply because, I’m the only one who has actually done what he said. He thinks he can trust me. “It’ll take me about a week.”

“Just go.” I begged. He did. Leaving me behind. The door wide open. I was too scared to get up and close it. So I waited.

An hour later I heard the roar of his truck engine pull up. I froze completely. He was back. He’d be ticked. I could very well be blamed. He could end up taking his anger out on me. For the first time tonight, I realized that I might not make it long enough to see the sunlight seep through that mesh covering.

The door on the truck slammed. I could hear him curse. Was he seeing the foot prints of the man and the women? What would he do now?

“Emily.” I heard him gasp my name. I knew he’d think I was gone. I knew he’d be angry. Or maybe it was worry that sunk in his voice, but that made no sense at all. Right now, the feeling of sickness invaded my body.

His footsteps were automatically barreling up the stairs of the house. I pulled the blanket tighter around me. Feeling warm water start to run down my cheeks. I was actually surprised that I cared enough to cry. My heart pounded in my ears. What would he do? His weight began walking across the creaky wooden floor. Voice cursing when he seen the three open doors. Mine was the first he stopped at.

When he saw me, the relief in his striking green eyes was obvious. His hand moved over the area on his heart. For the first time ever giving me a long time to study his face. High set cheek bones, luscious green eyes, thin pink lips, side swept black hair, and darkly tanned skin. Rough, like he had been burnt one to many times. I’ll tell the truth, he was beautiful. I was surprised.

“Did they hurt you?” He questioned. Moving inside my room. I jumped sort of, pressing as close to the wall as I could. He didn’t stop. “It's okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Did you get hurt? Emily, you need to tell me what happened.”

“I’m fine.” I croaked. Not intending on telling him much of anything. “I didn’t leave cause I didn’t want you to be angry.” Not. I just wanted to make sure they got away. It wouldn't be possible if they hand me with them.

“Well why wouldn’t I be angry? You know I’m going after them. They’ll be back here pretty soon, if they’re lucky.” He was going to kill them. He was just trying to cover that up because he knew I’d beg him not to. But they’ve been gone for an hour. Hopefully they’ve caught a ride by now. “He broke you’re door. That means you have to come with me. I’m not giving you any more chances to run. I’m glad you stayed. I wouldn’t have enjoyed hurting you.” His hand came over to cup my cheek. It was warm, and felt nice against my freezing skin. I didn’t like that it felt nice having his hand there. Almost comforting. I hated that. “You’re such a good girl, Emily. You’re they only one I’ve ever kept.”

“Let them go.” I whimpered. Hoping to god that he would. If I can just get him to leave them, I'll finally be happy with what I've done in my life.

“And let the cops get me, take you away from me. Ha! I don’t think so. I need to get them to keep you safe.” Ya, he was making this all about me. It was going to make me feel so guilty.

“So we’ll just leave.” Please let this work, I can’t let him go after them. It’s not happening. I’ve got to save their lives. They could very well save mine. “Please don’t kill them.”

“I don’t think that will work, Emily. You think I’m just going to let these people go? I’m not going to jail. You’re not talking me out of this. I can’t live in jail, I don’t get along with people. I wouldn’t do well so close to some smelly guy who raped some poor kid.” He was getting angry. But I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t know why.

“You killed some poor kid. Stole some poor kid’s life away. You desire it.” I growled. Just digging myself a bigger hole that he was sure to dump me in later. “Maybe I should’ve run.” I expected the slap. It hurt, I knew it would. My jaw ached horribly. It’d bruise.

“Then you’ll regret it. Because you know I wouldn’t be killing you, I’d make your life a living hell. It’s heaven right now, darling. Don’t force me to treat you like I did when you first got here. It’s getting cold outside, let me remind you that I’m the only one who will give you a blanket or a heater. You don’t want to freeze to death.” He threatened. Straightening up. Reaching down to help me up. “Come along.”

“No.” I’m not going. He can’t make me.

“Are you feeling rebellious today? You have to go.” He hissed. Scaring me a little. “If you don’t come, I’ll take them here to kill them and make you watch.” I felt my heart grow heavy. This can’t be happening. Why didn’t I run? What kept me here with this crazed teen? I can’t live like this. I have to escape.