The Contest

Difficult to try and collect my thoughts, In sheer panic, I panted. It was cold, dark, and with how my head throbbed, I wondered if the dark could be blindness.

The last thing I remembered was walking through the airport. I went to collect on airline tickets I had won. The contest was dinner with my actor hero, John! It seemed fate to me, so I entered a month ago.

Why would this happen? It seemed so legit. Why now? I felt my head throb more intensely as I fought back tears, the massive lump in my throat was choking me, I knew where I was, I knew who this was, what I was about to face, but I had no clue about how bad it was going to be.

Some winner…

I would never have the chance to be able to meet John now... I vowed, to fight my damnedest, make it long enough to at least write a letter to him!

There was a time when I couldn't even breathe through my tears, I'd find a place to write, I would line out all these wild stories, about how he would come for me, and save me.

I now struggled to get free from what I thought was rope. Every twist of my wrist was unbearably painful, as if, millions of razors

sliced deep into cartilage and bone. I wanted to scream in pain but could only pant.

I decided the panic felt less when I was thinking about John, what had led me to fight for my life and run.

He found me after a week at my job. He must have lined up another ‘client,’ because he had come to show me, once again, i'm his to sell, and he was being paid good money to deliver me.

He walked up to the door and pleaded for me to open it, I showed the usual apprehension, the small struggle before the conditioning kicked in, but most of all, I was terrified he was there.

“Open the door, you’re fine, i'm just glad you are here, and not off being a dumb little girl.”

At 16, I was wise beyond my age, I was smarter than he thought. Most nights, I had been clever enough to find a place to sleep, he couldn't sell what wasn't there, not dumb at all.

As for me being his, it was true, My mother handed me over to him when I was 13, though I never knew what debt was covered.

He brainwashed me, and followed me everywhere. At the dinner table, conversations were always one sided, he had told me exactly what I had done during the day.

I tried to resist opening the door, but because of fear, and because continued brainwashing, I had been conditioned for instant submission hesitant, I opened it to him, this time was because I been afraid he would break the glass; he was a dangerous man, with a dangerous temper!

He came in with a growl, this horrifying noise he’d make, he said, was a demon friend that helped him to decipher deceit, and the only thing that kept him safe in this dangerous business.

I watched him walk in the door, he smiled triumphantly at my fear.

“I will never get why you are constantly trying to get away from me…” he looked around the empty bakery, and the smile left his face to anger, “don't I care for you?”

My gaze fell to the floor. I wasn't supposed to look at him when he was angry.

He shouted, “DON’T I?”

“Yes dad."

He came over and caressed my face, his breath stinking of whiskey, “Then why are you always gone? Why keep your stuff behind a dumpster when you have a home? ...Tell me Sariah!”

I felt his hand smack the back of my head, and although my brain exploded with pain, I didn’t give him the satisfaction of crying, or even anger, “I'm sorry dad, I had to get this cake done for a customer, I was going to come home tonight.”

The throbbing headache pulled me back to reality for a moment, I faintly heard a ticking, it sounded like a watch.

I continued to struggle in agony with the rope; small cries came out of me, I was trying to not make any more noise- so, I faded back into my past.

16 year old me cowering, he pulled my head up to look him in the eyes, I had found that, I may have had to let him look into my eyes, but my mind could travel elsewhere- to a place where HE was! ...My hero!

I would chant in my head, through the fear, ‘he would kill you... if he knew me, and knew you,- who you really are, he would kill you. My hero WOULD END YOU!’ As he kept yelling at me, and hitting me, I ventured deeper inside my fantasies.

The meditation had been interrupted by what felt like an urgent alarm sounding, screaming inside my heart, nagging for me to break free, I needed to get out, before whomever put me here, comes back, however, this feeling could have just been the headache, or, it could have resulted from the ticking again, it seemed to have only increased in volume, as if, the more I listened, the more intense it became.

The dark couldn't be trusted, even for all I know, he could be right in front of my strained eyes, I, already afraid of the dark, tensed in horror! Now these nightmares had became waking, and tangible.

I attempted not to indulge these visions, and continued to listen for anything...

So small, just the hiss of silence, as if my ears had opened after being sealed in water, soft sounds of labored breathing.

I just want to run! I held frozen, and tensed for a few moments… when nothing came after me, I continued to work on freeing my wrist, it was almost loose!

While I struggled, fought off sobbing, the horrible thought filled me, even if I got free, could I fight? He was so strong!

It made me flash back to the night I chose life.

I tried to wait out the beatings in my mind, but something in me snapped. Feeling a courage I had never felt before, 'No more,' in my mind, I looked up at him and threw a punch, it slammed into his face, with it, the impact of the full force of all my body. It worked! He was now out cold. I fumbled through his pocket and grabbed his keys.

‘Smart enough for ya? I'm strong enough too! and to hell with the paycheck,’ I thought as I stepped over him, and ran out the door.

He started out after me, it was not long after I had gotten to the drivers door, lucky me it was unlocked, he started hauling towards me, I could hear growling, and the click-grinding of his teeth.

I got the car started as he reached the rolled up window, “Know this you little trollop, I WILL find you, I WILL kill you... but before I

kill you, I will make you watch as I kill someone you love…. The moment you start to get comfortable-” he elbowed the window, the impact shocked the car into drive.

Terrified, and screaming, I drove off, and although I was heading away, I could still hear him,“I WILL BE THERE!”

Somehow I managed to free my arm, and shortly thereafter I freed my legs. A sharp grunt came from the darkness.

I could hear the ticking, as if it had been right next to me, and now realized I wasn’t alone.

“Hello," my own voice had a hollow echo in the room, as I startled the watch wearer.

I heard a gasp, and I realized whoever it was, as scared as I, and clearly, not someone waiting to kill me.

With a voice that seemed so familiar to me, I heard a the male reply, “Hello?”

It wasn’t the man that put me here, I knew that much. His voice sounded alarmed, and distraught, “Hello?" He answered impatiently, "Oh god, where are we? Did he get you too? I've been here for awhile now, two days? I think…”

I looked for any source for light, he still spoke to me with too many questions, and I dared not answer.

Eventually my feet met with a large ascending staircase, I followed it up cautiously, and looked for a light switch.

The cold handle of a door knob met with my hand, I checked it quietly, it could lead to our freedom, or to my greatest fear… to my dismay, locked.

He must not have been ready for whatever horror he had set up for me. I located and turned the light switch on.

I could hear the man start to panic more frantically. I wanted to go down and reassure him, but I didn’t know the full answers, I couldn't offer any comfort.

I turned, and looked to the other victim, it was John.

In pure disbelief, and horror I sat down on the stairs, I had to study if he was real, I wished it had been a nightmare, "oh no..."

The wishes couldn't change facts though, that this creep, had gone even deeper into the sick, and demented. I knew it was Keith. He had found me, oh how I prayed to be wrong, but it was him, he was back, and now… he managed to grab John too.

I was frozen; I was too scared to go and speak to my hero, because of having no idea what to say to him!

I had no idea of how to tell him that I knew our captor, and that his abduction had been all my fault! I could try to make promises, but I knew that I may not be able to keep them; also, I only wanted him to know as little as possible.

I walked down to him, slow, like I was watching him on a realistic TV screen, I couldn’t imagine ever being this close to him…

He looked at me, justifiably impatient for answers.

“I am so sorry, Sir.” I shook my head, “ I have no idea what to say to you right now."

John replied weakly, "how 'bout you untie me... that's a good start, right there."

I obliged, red-faced with embarrassment said, “I know you’re scared, I am too," I got over my awe after a moment, and spoke less shy, "if we keep quiet, and work together, you may be able to come out of this alive.”

I tried to think about what I had just said... I felt this was it for me, all my years of running, forced back into slavery. He must have known somehow about John, how he had been the only man I have ever truly loved, and looked up to; so, I assumed he had had John drugged, and brought him here for his mind game. This was one sick man!

“I will let you go, but you have to promise not to do anything dumb okay? I know this man, just let him have me, please.” the thought of what he could do to him in front of me, only hurt my heart.

Too scared to tell my hero many things, I was especially afraid to tell him that I needed him to BE my hero, but worried for his safety, so dared not utter a word like that, knowing all too well, he was just a man, one that didn't look good, at all.

He rubbed his wrists, and arm, as he moaned in pain, “Thanks, but can I ask what exactly we are doing here?”

“Simple,” no point to hiding this, “I adore you, and this someone hates me. This is my fault, and again I am so sorry.”

The door slowly opened, as if on cue, the man that I had run from all these years!

“Sariah, It has been far too long." He paused to marvel at John, his capture, "What did I say? Hmm?” He pulled his gun out from his side, and pointed it at me.

The hole of that gun, was lonely! I lost myself into a fear so deep, and dark, I couldn't even speak.

“You know, I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he walked down the stairs as he pointed the gun at John.

A protective mode turned on inside me, and I scrambled in between them.

“I'm sorry, ok, ok, you said you would kill me?” I wondered in my mind, how he could have known about John, and him being my father figure.

He must have sensed that inner question, because he answered, “I found your unsent letters in your bags, your journal, stories,” he leaned over my shoulder to talk to John, “her, HERO… that's you. I couldn't get HER to change, because of YOU!” he put the gun on him again-

“No," I answered confrontational, I could tell in his eyes, that had brought his rage back on myself, and the gun also wondered back to me, “I made that decision, because you were a worthless piece of human garbage.”

He hit me with the barrel, I tried to stay upright, as darkness covered my vision my efforts failed, and it knocked me out.

When I came to, John, and Keith, struggled for the gun.

This was how it was going to play out, he would shoot John, he would bleed to death in my arms, it was just as Keith said!

I felt that fight inside grow once more, he hadn't notice I came to, so I rushed him. His knees made the perfect target, he yelled in pain as he hit cement. I smashed my fist into his head a few times before he was able to kick me away.

To my surprise, I had tackled the gun from his hands, John had grabbed it, and now pointed at him. I knew in that moment we had won!

My victory, short lived, because out of the corner of my eye, my hero went pale, I could tell something was terribly wrong.

Had he been shot while I was knocked out? I didn’t see blood. Paper pale now, I ran over to him and grabbed the gun. We had won the battle, but he looked as if he was about to lose the war.

As if the devil had a sense of humor, Keith chuckled snidely, "this is perfect!”

“John, what’s going on?”

“Oh! My chest!”

“Oh, Sariah, his heart?,” Keith started to laugh, and mock him.

His words sent a chill, as the hair on my neck stood on end in warning.

“Too bad I wont be here to see it happen,” he charged me, without thought I fired, the bullet caught him in the chest.

I didn’t know who to focus on, Keith fell, and blood poured out his mouth. John held his arm, his face moist, he closed his eyes to keep the sting of the salty sweat from them, as he braced himself against the wall

Keith muttered to him, “see… ya soon.”

I didn’t wait any longer for the bullet to take him, I fumbled once again in his for his keys.

He gasped, and fought off his death a few more moments... with my mind in overload on how to get John to a hospital, I didn’t notice him pull out a knife...

“One more thing….” he choked, and pulled me into the blade.

I felt the hot sensation into my stomach, and noticed what it was as he pulled it out with, “I told you.”

I sat gasping in pain, John called to me as he attempted to reach me, Keith was still, his eyes now glazed over, and not breathing, I could tell he was dead.

I tore his grip from my shirt, and staggered back with the keys in my bloodied hands. Shocked, and bleeding out, I felt a bit whoozie.

John screamed out, again, followed by a thud, pain had taken him off his feet.

His face was so scared, so vulnerable... he took my hand when I got over to him he worried, “Sariah? You’ve been stabbed!”

I pretended he didn't just say that, as I threw his arm over my shoulder.

"Just... keep talking to me John? Ok? We'll both be alright."

I held my side, too painful to ignore. my life leaving my body with the blood, I felt my heroes free hand hold more pressure on my wound as well, we ran.

“I managed the keys, come on John, lets get outta here,” we walked with pure Adrenalin, out to the vehicle.

As gently as I could, I put him into the seat, and drove us away from the abandoned home.

It was all but silent as the sounds of John struggling to breathe intensified, I needed to figure out if he was still alive, or if he had been agonal breathing.

“Please fight? Please? You mean so much to so many.”

He looked at me dazed, his eyes rolled back into his head, and tensed with a jolt of pain, but managed two words, “MY hero.”

My heart wretched, I didn’t feel like it.

I grabbed his hand to comfort him, also to keep him alert.

He held my hand tightly all the way to the hospital, also helping to keep me conscience through my blood loss.

I was so dizzy, the hospital couldn’t come fast enough! We both were rushed into surgery, and while I was under, had such horrible visions he had died, to my amazement, when I came out of anesthesia they told me, he would make a full recovery.

My weight had took most the impact of the blade, and John, 100% blockage of his heart, this meant that his heart attack had not been my doing. In fact, months later he told me that he was convinced this had all happened so we can both be each others heroes.

He felt that, even though it wasn't the 'contest dinner,' I had hoped to actually be going to, we both had still come out winners.