“Who are you? Why am I here?” The questions fell out of my mouth, one after another in a failed attempt to understand what was going on. There was a man sitting at the edge of the cot. The cement walls of the dark room were closing in. My chest began to tighten, making it hard to breathe. This emotion was fear, but I’ve never felt it so strongly. “I want to go home.”
Tears filled my eyes. The man brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. I pulled away quickly. The small smile on His face fell, and his eyebrows pulled together. His hand moved quickly, slapping me across the face. The pain made me scream.
“Now listen here you little bitch,” He growls, “You’re going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. Or else you’re going to be in a world of hurt, girly. If you don’t listen to me I’ll cut you apart, piece by fucking piece. Do you understand?”
The tears were pouring freely then. My chest tightened and I feared I was going to explode. I wished my mother and father would save me then, take me out of this place. I wanted to go back home. I wanted to sleep in my mother’s arms, and tell me everything will be okay. I wanted my life back.
He yanks me by the hair so that I’m looking up at Him. Anger filled his eyes, piercing me. “Understand?” He growled menacingly. He pulled my hair so tightly I could feel strands being ripped out of my head. Pain reverberated inside my skull.
“Y-yes,” I managed through my cries. He let go of my hair then.
“Very good.”
The car pulls to a stop. I can’t see anything through the dark cloth of the bag. His arm reaches over me, opening my door. He pushes me out of the car with such force that something inside my chest cracks. I scream in pain. The tires of his car squeals against the cement as he speeds off.
I quickly pull the bag off of my head. I push myself off the ground gingerly, whimpering from the pain beneath my skin. A cracked rib, but hardly a price to pay for being freed. I look around. I’m in the park’s parking lot. I almost cry as I recognize my surroundings. This is the very park he kidnapped me from.
I begin to run. My feet slap against the ground, ignoring the agony of my broken rib. My feet move so quickly that I nearly trip over them. I run and run until my lungs threaten to burst. It’s the middle of the night. Street lamps are positioned at each corner of the block and their pale yellow light create thousands of shadows. I pass familiar and unfamiliar buildings, stores, and restaurants.
After what feels like a century, I find the familiar suburban roads. I’m not too far now.
I catch my breath and continue to run, racking my brain on how to get back to that pink house. I go up and down every street. After what feels like forever, I see the house. My feet move quickly up the steps. I bang against the door, ringing the doorbell furiously.
Doubt fills me then. What if they moved? What if they’re gone?
The lock clicks and the door is pulled open. A woman is standing there, still groggy from sleep. There are wrinkles on her face that are new to me, but I could recognize her anywhere. Her blonde hair is cut unto a short bob, messy curls surrounding her face. She looks at me with her deep blue eyes, confusion written on her face.
“M-Mom,” I whisper. Her eyes open wider, and clarity seems to fill her. She throws the door open and pulls me into her arms. I bite my lip, ignoring the pain that fills me from her touch. I wrap my arms around her. It’s almost surreal. “I’m home.”
YOU ARE READING
Ten Years Later
Teen FictionSawyer Blanchette was kidnapped. Ten years later, she’s returned to her childhood home with a story to tell.
