Status: I wrote this when I was in seventh grade. Look away.
Far From Home
Nearly Dead
One thing was certain, I was alive. Or it seemed like it, anyway. I could vaguely remember how I'd wound up here, but I knew it wasn't a fun adventure; the last thing I could remember was the lean man holding the rag to my face. Presently, I found myself in a room that was dark and seemed to vibrate. There was also a faint hum and unintelligible voices coming from outside the room.
Breathing took every bit of me I had, my lungs being still tainted with the chloroform I was forced to inhale. Just to add onto my misery, my head throbbed, my body ached, my chest burned, but I still fought hard to move and somehow find a way to escape my dark prison. My hands and feet bound together, I swayed my hips back and forth, unsuccessfully trying to move myself along the floor.
Bracing myself for the excruciating headache, I attempted to sit up but collapsed once again onto the cold ground with an explosion of pain in my head, and abdomen, and pretty much everywhere else on my body. Had my stomach not been empty, I would have blown chunks from the dizziness I was feeling, possibly from the chloroform, but more than likely from the fear all this was putting in me.
The dim noises faded and the room stopped vibrating.
'I'm going to die here. I'm going to fucking die here,' I thought to myself and felt tears roll across my face. 'I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, for having such hatrid toward you both. I'm sorry, Bailey, for abandoning you. I'm sorry, Damon, for letting you slip away. Even if I make it out of here, I have no way of identifying a suspect.'
Suddenly, something blocked my airway, and I began choking. Every cough felt like a stab to the chest, sending a sharp throbbing through my entire body. My eyelids felt heavy, and my stomach was in knots from not eating. Finally, I could breath again, but just barely.
I had to accept my fate. I was going to die in this dark, silent, hell.
From the wall to my left came a noise that sounded like someone lightly brushing against the wall as they walked, and I pretended to be asleep. After the click of a door being opened, the room was filled with light that stung my eyes through my eyelids. 'Play dead, play dead,' I commanded myself. But I couldn't resist opening my eyes just a crack.
I was apparently in some sort of van, and there, standing outside the ajar door to the van, was a man whose lean figure lead me to believe he was the one that held the rag over my nose. Only this time, his face was unmasked. He bore the face of a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, with long, dark locks that hung down into vision. He didn't come off as intimidating, yet I still shied away from him.
"Don't be afraid," he said, his shy sounding voice barely above a whisper, "I have something for you." He looked away, as if he were afraid of being caught by some kind of authority, then produced a wrapped up cheeseburger and slid it across the van floor. "Why?" I hissed, my strained voice barely sounding like my own. It wasn't just 'Why are you giving me this?' It was 'Why this gift?' 'Why are you being nice to me, my own kidnapper?' 'Why have you taken me away from my home?'
"Well, without food, you'd die, my love," he said in a teasing manner. I hated him. I hated him for causing me this pain, then making it into some kind of sick joke. "Let. Me. Go."
The boy sighed and scratched his head in thought. For just a moment, we made eye contact, and I saw in his eyes pity and sympathy. He checked to make sure nobody was looking, then crawled into the van, reaching for me. I hissed once more and tried to swing out my legs to knock him aside, but he held me down gently and began tugging at the rope on my hands. '
As he crawled backwards, I took this as my invitation to leave and started crawling out after him. 'What was the point of all this?' But just before I had a leg out of the van door, the boy's head jerked to the side and with a swift movement, he shoved me back into the van, hard. "Fucking ow!" I cursed, rubbing my temples where they now throbbed even worse than before.
"I'm so sorry. Just stay here a while longer," he said hurriedly, "and eat up. I don't know when you'll be fed again." Just as quickly as he had appeared, the boy shut the doors and disappeared again, and not long after the van rumbled to life again.
What just happened?
Despite my weakness, I growled in anger and kicked at the air. "I don't want your dang cheeseburger, I want to go home!" I stared up at the ceiling and silently wept. I was so close to going home, yet at the last second, he betrayed me and shoved me back into where I was. What was his problem?
The aroma of the sandwhich that lay a foot away was intoxicating, and I reached for it and gingerly unwrapped it, pondering whether or not I should eat it for a few moments. What if it was poisoned? My stomach gave a loud moan and I caved, sinking my teeth into the delicious bread and meat. Ironically enough, cheeseburgers were my absolute favorite.
'I don't know when you'll be fed again,' the man had said. So apparently these guys were hardcore kidnappers. I set the burger down on top of its paper, that sick feeling settling in my stomach once more.
Breathing took every bit of me I had, my lungs being still tainted with the chloroform I was forced to inhale. Just to add onto my misery, my head throbbed, my body ached, my chest burned, but I still fought hard to move and somehow find a way to escape my dark prison. My hands and feet bound together, I swayed my hips back and forth, unsuccessfully trying to move myself along the floor.
Bracing myself for the excruciating headache, I attempted to sit up but collapsed once again onto the cold ground with an explosion of pain in my head, and abdomen, and pretty much everywhere else on my body. Had my stomach not been empty, I would have blown chunks from the dizziness I was feeling, possibly from the chloroform, but more than likely from the fear all this was putting in me.
The dim noises faded and the room stopped vibrating.
'I'm going to die here. I'm going to fucking die here,' I thought to myself and felt tears roll across my face. 'I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, for having such hatrid toward you both. I'm sorry, Bailey, for abandoning you. I'm sorry, Damon, for letting you slip away. Even if I make it out of here, I have no way of identifying a suspect.'
Suddenly, something blocked my airway, and I began choking. Every cough felt like a stab to the chest, sending a sharp throbbing through my entire body. My eyelids felt heavy, and my stomach was in knots from not eating. Finally, I could breath again, but just barely.
I had to accept my fate. I was going to die in this dark, silent, hell.
From the wall to my left came a noise that sounded like someone lightly brushing against the wall as they walked, and I pretended to be asleep. After the click of a door being opened, the room was filled with light that stung my eyes through my eyelids. 'Play dead, play dead,' I commanded myself. But I couldn't resist opening my eyes just a crack.
I was apparently in some sort of van, and there, standing outside the ajar door to the van, was a man whose lean figure lead me to believe he was the one that held the rag over my nose. Only this time, his face was unmasked. He bore the face of a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, with long, dark locks that hung down into vision. He didn't come off as intimidating, yet I still shied away from him.
"Don't be afraid," he said, his shy sounding voice barely above a whisper, "I have something for you." He looked away, as if he were afraid of being caught by some kind of authority, then produced a wrapped up cheeseburger and slid it across the van floor. "Why?" I hissed, my strained voice barely sounding like my own. It wasn't just 'Why are you giving me this?' It was 'Why this gift?' 'Why are you being nice to me, my own kidnapper?' 'Why have you taken me away from my home?'
"Well, without food, you'd die, my love," he said in a teasing manner. I hated him. I hated him for causing me this pain, then making it into some kind of sick joke. "Let. Me. Go."
The boy sighed and scratched his head in thought. For just a moment, we made eye contact, and I saw in his eyes pity and sympathy. He checked to make sure nobody was looking, then crawled into the van, reaching for me. I hissed once more and tried to swing out my legs to knock him aside, but he held me down gently and began tugging at the rope on my hands. '
As he crawled backwards, I took this as my invitation to leave and started crawling out after him. 'What was the point of all this?' But just before I had a leg out of the van door, the boy's head jerked to the side and with a swift movement, he shoved me back into the van, hard. "Fucking ow!" I cursed, rubbing my temples where they now throbbed even worse than before.
"I'm so sorry. Just stay here a while longer," he said hurriedly, "and eat up. I don't know when you'll be fed again." Just as quickly as he had appeared, the boy shut the doors and disappeared again, and not long after the van rumbled to life again.
What just happened?
Despite my weakness, I growled in anger and kicked at the air. "I don't want your dang cheeseburger, I want to go home!" I stared up at the ceiling and silently wept. I was so close to going home, yet at the last second, he betrayed me and shoved me back into where I was. What was his problem?
The aroma of the sandwhich that lay a foot away was intoxicating, and I reached for it and gingerly unwrapped it, pondering whether or not I should eat it for a few moments. What if it was poisoned? My stomach gave a loud moan and I caved, sinking my teeth into the delicious bread and meat. Ironically enough, cheeseburgers were my absolute favorite.
'I don't know when you'll be fed again,' the man had said. So apparently these guys were hardcore kidnappers. I set the burger down on top of its paper, that sick feeling settling in my stomach once more.