The Summer With Spencer

He then left through the door in the ceiling. Once I was alone, I began to cry again. I sat there, whimpering Spencer’s name for a good half hour. I had nothing to brace my broken arm with, so I could barely move. I couldn’t stand the silence, and I started to get mad at myself for being such a wimp. Then I heard the unsub approach the door again. I realized that at the same time every day he would leave, and then come back and contact the BAU. I knew that they would be waiting. I also came to the realization that I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in two days. I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer with my injuries, because I was bleeding out, starving and dehydrated. I also needed to pee, but there was no way I was going to pee my pants. Luckily, the man came over, undid the cuffs that bound me, and led me into a room that I hadn’t been able to see around because of the protruding wall next to my sleeping quarters. He let me go in alone and pee. For that I was very grateful. I also got a Dixie cup full of water, which I re-filled three times. Then he dragged me over to my bed and chained me again. I screamed the whole time, because he chained my broken arm, and just moving hurt it so much. He turned on the video camera, and this time Spencer and Eddie were there at the camera. I’m sure my face lit up when I saw them. I wondered how terrible I looked; there hadn’t been a mirror in the bathroom, probably because I would have broken it and stabbed him with the shards. I looked down, my arm looked gross, because of the blood and wounds all over it. My clothes were completely bloodstained. I wished I could have cleaned the wound out with water, but I knew that I couldn’t, because the dried blood covering it was the only thing to keep me from bleeding out. I couldn’t figure out why the kidnapper had only injured my right arm… I began to sign to Reid again, “help me, help me” over and over. I never saw it coming when the kidnapper turned to me, pulled out some sort of weapon, and shot a needle full of an unknown substance at me. It hit me on my left arm, my good arm, and instantly self-injected. Eddie and the team looked horrified. Reid’s face was the last thing I saw before I slipped into a deep slumber.

When I was asleep, I had a very disturbing dream. I was alone, in a dark field. It wasn’t night, but everything was dark. Overhead, large clouds loomed on the horizon. It was gray and velvety blue out, like just before a big storm. It was windy, and I was standing in that field that stretched on forever, in all directions, turning in a circle, looking for something, anything. There were no trees, no people, no animals, no sun. Just me, standing in a sea of tall grass blowing wildly in the wind. I kept turning in a circle for a long time, my hair whipping around my face.

I opened my eyes, and tried to stretch. Everything hurt, my whole body was searing with intense pain. My stomach was growling, and my ribs and arm were not happy with me for getting up and walking yesterday. I was weaker, I could feel it. My face was starting to hurt more too. The person who had snatched me was nowhere around. I had to figure out a way to get out of these handcuffs. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. I had to get out myself, because no one was going to find me in this basement in the middle of nowhere. What do you do when you call the police to help you, but they don’t know where you are, and you can’t tell them ?

I was taken on a Tuesday, and now it was a Friday, I think. I don’t even know anymore. I was dying, I suddenly realized. I could feel it. I was getting an infection, probably sepsis, a bacterial infection of the blood, that can kill you very quickly. Within a day. I felt a bit relieved, but at the same time, I felt I owed it to the team to fight. My wounds had been open for three days now, and I was still without food. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for breath, but I couldn’t get enough in. I must’ve passed out, because then I was dreaming again.

I was still alone, but this time, there were two of me. One was me regular, without the injuries, standing over my form now, lifeless and dying. Regular me, the one I could control, leaned over injured me and started it stop the bleeding. I set my bones and sat down beside myself, stroking my hair and comforting myself. Even in my dreams, I couldn’t be saved.

I woke up to the psycho talking to the video camera. “I think she’s dead, I dunno.” I lifted my head a little, but I didn’t have it in me to sign. I tried, I needed to tell them that I was dying, but I couldn’t. He came over to me and started cutting me again, but this time, I couldn’t even scream, I was so weak. But it hurt, more than words could express. My poor arm would probably never be the same. But then again, neither would I.