The Summer With Spencer

My reverie was shattered by a loud bang, and the appearance of the abductor. My hunch had been right, we were in a basement, because he came in through a door in the ceiling. But that also made us harder to find. He didn’t speak to me, he only carefully watched my face as he withdrew a knife. I composed myself, I knew he wanted to see the fear, so I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. He suddenly stopped approaching me with the knife, and looked at his cell phone. “Ah,” he said. “It’s 3:00, Eddie will be arriving home any minute.” He smiled devilishly. I gave him the face. The face is when I widen my already large eyes, and raise my eyebrows slightly, creating a sad/innocent/bewildered effect that I’ve seen, firsthand, bring tears to people’s eyes. He seemed immune to it, but I kept the expression anyway, hoping to wear him down. He walked slowly and deliberately towards me again. I began to realize that he was going to mutilate me, and then video contact them, that’s why he had chosen this time, because they would all just be realizing that I had been kidnapped, and my cuts would be fresh and bleeding. It was odd. I felt so calm. Maybe because my whole life, I had stopped being surprised when bad things happened to me. And I always knew that something like this was destined to happen to me, I kind of forsaw it. I always saw crazy psycho encounters to be inevitable. He sat down on the bed in front of me. His movements still deliberately slow, he grabbed my arm, and put the blade to it. He slowly dragged it down, from my elbow on my right arm, all the way to the wrist, pressing it hard to make it deep. I couldn’t rein it in, the pain was intense, I screamed deafeningly loud. The scream haunted me, I couldn’t even recognize my voice in it. I knew enough not to struggle, to let him think he had the upper hand. Because If I tried to fight him, he would only hurt me more, maybe even kill me, if that wasn’t his intention already. He threw the knife down and unexpectedly brought his fist up, punching me right in the cheekbone on my left side. I knew what a huge bruise it would make, but I knew the bone wasn’t broken. He kicked me in the ribs, over and over, with my insane scream echoing off the walls. Tears began to stream down my injured face. I whispered “I want Spencer. Where is he ? I want Spencer !” “Spencer ?!” He questioned. “I thought it was Eddie !” I said nothing. He turned away, and I feebly tried to stop the bleeding from my arm. I was in so much pain. I hadn’t even known that it was possible to feel this level of pain. The shock and adrenaline were wearing off, fear bubbled up inside me, deep and quick. I was suddenly almost paralyzed by fear, by the thought of never seeing Eddie, my friends, my sister, or the BAU Team again. I wanted to see them all one last time, I wanted to tell Spencer how much I liked him. I knew he felt isolated and socially awkward, and I wanted him to know that I loved him. That I loved him for him. In that moment, I just wanted to see my Virginia family, and tell them that I loved them.

I began to recall all the times I had spoken with Spencer since that first day, I counted 6 conversations. That wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t ever be enough. The blood, my blood, was everywhere by now. My navy tank top was absolutely saturated with crimson, rust-and-salt smelling blood. Even my big hands weren’t enough to cover the deep laceration. I couldn’t get my shirt off of my body to stop the bleeding even if I wanted to, due to the chains. My ribs hurt worse than both my face and my arm, and I knew that a few of them were broken. I was having trouble breathing, and I was terrified that splinters of my ribs would puncture a lung, or both, and cause a pnemothorax (collapsed lung.)I knew that I had to set my arm bone back into place, or it would require surgery. I gripped my arm and snapped the bone into its original place. It hurt worse than when he had broken my arm. The kidnapper didn’t even turn around at the sound of my horrid screams. I looked up at him, and he was setting up a video camera and a stool. Lucky for me, he had set it up right across from me, undoubtedly so they could see me, injured and crying, in the background. This was lucky because I could go through with my plan- use sign language in the background, so that the crazy unsub couldn’t see or hear it. He turned the video camera on, and called a number at the same time.

He put the phone on speaker. I could hear Eddie crying, and Hotch trying to calm him down. Garcia was hacking my computer(which I was mad about) and Reid was trying to gather a profile with everyone else. The unsub commanded that Hotch put Eddie on the phone. “Hello. It’s a good thing you answered the phone. Now turn on your video camera, and try to control your blubbering,” the unsub told Eddie. They did as they were told. Eddie and Gideon were foremost on the screen, with Reid, J.J., and Prentiss in the background. The psycho turned to me and said, “Who was that you were crying for earlier ?” “Spencer,” I whispered, horrified. “Ah yes,” he said, turned to face the camera now. “ Who’s Spencer ? Do we know a Spencer ?” Gideon immediately moved out of the way, and Reid took his place. “Me, I-I’m S-Spencer.” He told the unsub. “Turning back to me again, “This is the guy you were whimpering for ? You’ve got to be kidding !” He laughed, a short, loud guffaw. He started to talk back and forth with them, and Eddie looked at me pleadingly, seeing how much I was bleeding. I had to look away at the tears in his eyes. I started to sign to them. The first thing I signed was “Look in my notebook.” That was for Spencer, I wanted him to see the poems I had written for him, in case I didn’t make it out of this alive. I could tell he saw it, and understood. His acting was perfect, you couldn’t even tell that he wasn’t paying attention to the unsub. I smiled a little through my tears. I signed what I knew about the location of the place, and what I had gathered about the unsub. The last thing I signed was for Eddie, “Miss you every minute.”

The abductor left the video camera on, but told them he would talk no more. Making sure they could see, he walked over to me and began to beat me again, worse than before. I knew they could hear my screams, but I couldn’t help it. He took out the knife again, and made another laceration on my right arm. He then stomped on my arm, as hard as he could. I heard the snap, and I’m sure the team did too. The pain became unbearable, and the darkness claimed me once again. I’m sure it was much later when I came to. The abductor had wrapped a tourniquet around my arm to slow the bleeding. He was across the room and watched me wake up. “It’s a new day,” he told me. That meant I had been abducted since about noon yesterday. “Time ?” I asked him, my voice barely more than a croak. “Two p.m.” he said. “You’ve been out for a while.” He smiled a creepy pedophile-ish grin. I knew then that I didn’t want to make it out of here. I would re-live this situation every single day if I lived. I wanted him to kill me, I didn’t want to end up looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, having nightmares and going crazy. I didn’t want to live like that. I began to hope he would kill me.