Been to Hell

The past week has been hell. I thought for sure that Zane would’ve been here by now, but he hasn’t shown up. I’m starting to wonder if he is really okay.

I never thought of myself as weak, even when Zane kidnapped me. But this man was barbaric! I’ve never found myself more frightened, or even nervous. Every time he can into the room it was like I couldn’t breath. I wouldn’t move, I would freeze like I was a block of ice. To be honest, I preferred Zane more as a kidnapper then this guy. At least Zane didn’t do these type of things to me. I’ve never been starved, or forced into things that I have only ever done with Zane. I was surprised when it all happened, it was worse then the punches. But then again, it only has happened once so far. Hopefully never again.

I closed my eyes and imagined that I was with Zane again, laying in his lap on our long car rides. His soft hand stroking my hair, his soothing voice singing. It wounded me to think about anything like that. Sure, I know that
he is coming to rescue me…if he is alive.

“Emily!” His voice snapped angrily. I jumped and found myself pressing as close to the wall as I could manage. He stood in the doorway, lean and tall. His wild blonde hair was tussled and his icy blue eyes were almost angry. I was worried that I was going to be accused of something that wasn’t my fault. When I looked at him closer a slight familiarity formed, it was the football player that ruined my life when I was in high school. “We’ve got a problem now don’t we?”

I froze again, finding that the fear was beginning to flood my body once more. “W-Why?”

My weak voice echoed against the wooded walls, seeming like the room was empty. When in reality it was a bed and a bathroom, almost like a regular house would. But to be it was a damp dark dungeon that had very few hiding spots.

He stepped in, his boots clicking against the floor. “You’ve been hiding. Do I need to start boarding up the bottom of the bed?” He was talking about how I climbed underneath the bed whenever I heard him coming. But could he really blame me? He would be scared to in this kind of situation. “Plus I found this when I came in here last night.” He held up the weapon I thought I hid very well. A pocket knife I had stole for his jeans. “I’m very disappointed in you.” The pocket knife clicked as he opened it, I was sure pain was on its way. “Lets teach you a lesson.”

I yanked at the cords holding me against the windowsill. Trying to get away as fast as I could, but nothing would be able to get me away now. He was to close, and I could hear him breathing when he grabbed the back of the shirt I was wearing.

The first blow was to my cheek bone, luckily it wasn’t with the knife. Though the next one was, he stabbed it into my leg and yanked down. I screamed and cried, trying to kick at him. But that only dug the knife deeper, I should’ve known better.

By the time he was done I was numb and there was blood everywhere. I couldn’t even muster up the courage to cry, just small whimpers of pain leaked though the air. But he did untie me when he was finished, picking me up. I thought for sure he was going to toss me across the room. That’s why what he did surprised me, he brought me to the bathroom and began stitching my cuts back together. Just enough to keep me alive, not enough to fully stop the bleeding. To be honest I feel like a gutted fish. Not only that but it hurt my already shattered pride when I realized that I couldn’t hold myself up anymore, I was flopping onto him like a rag doll. But that’s what you get when no food or water for three days, plus everything else that is happening. I’m ready to give up.