Left in the Dark

Tuesday, 4^th May

I never expected it to happen. Not like this. Not today. Not now.

I was on a simple run. Exercise soothed me. Sweat dripped slowly from my forehead and my legs strained as I ran.

Earphones were in. I was completely unaware of the potential – and definite – dangers surrounding me.

Wind blew coolly against my warm face. The sunlight shone over me, as though protecting me from the dangers of the dark. I was merely a small speck in the span of the universe – my only worries were whether people liked me, whether my grades were high. That was, of course, until today.

I was getting tired, so I decided to stop for a drink in a park, where the canopy of trees blocked out the sun. My only protection. I was puzzled, at first. Why would no-one want to come to such a beautiful park? It was empty.

Then I realised it was midday, and I should be in Math. But I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t. I needed to clear my thoughts. There was a single man, on the other side of the vast, grassy land, getting out of a white van. In my neighbourhood, many people owned vans and trucks, so I convinced myself it was nothing.

I was carrying a small bag. My water bottle, which I had refilled during this time, my phone, and this journal, were the contents. This journal, of course, was empty, because I was going to start writing in it today, while I was sitting in that park.

But when I looked up, the man was much closer, almost striding towards me, his face concealed by the shade.

I stood, and my gut twisted. It was time to go. My stomach was in a knot as I began to jog away. I glanced behind me, and he was there. He was running. I broke into a sprint, screaming for help that we both knew I wouldn’t get.

I was already tired. I’d run ten miles in complete formal school uniform. It wasn’t running gear. My heart pounded as I pushed myself onward. A relieved sigh escaped my dry lips as I realised, he wasn’t chasing me anymore.

I slowed to a speedy walk. My blood ran cold as I saw the same white van I’d seen minutes ago, driving towards me.

I couldn’t have outrun it. How could I? But I could find civilisation. Amongst the crowd I could get lost. Except there was one immensely large issue.

I was in farmland now. I’d run the opposite direction from the town and my school.

Tears started to trickle down my bright red cheeks. My mascara was smudged, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting away.

I knew I wouldn’t.

He got out of his van when I’d tired myself out. I was in an even more remote area than I was in before.

He cupped his hand over my mouth and clasped my hands behind my back. He dragged me back, muffled sobs breaking out here and there, to his van.

I hit the locked van door with everything I had. Eventually, I fell into an exhausted slumber. I was awoken in an uncomfortable bed. One measly little light shone dimly above me.

My kidnapper was staring at me. With a panicked jolt, I realised I was in different clothes.

“What have you done to me?” I screamed.

I shouted, begged, pleaded, cried. He just stared. I eventually paused and he smiled warmly.

“Are you finished?” were his exact words.

Foul language poured out of my raspy throat. My mouth tasted papery, and my heart was attempting to escape from my body, as I was this place.

When I started up again, his expression hardened, and this man slapped me. Slapped me.

He thought he could treat me like this and get away with it. I bit him. Fury engulfed the room in an angry silence.

He sighed and left the room, locking the metal door. This must be his cellar. Soundproof.

The room was rather small. There was a small, almost kitchen-like area, a little padded chair with straw-like, greasy carpet spanning around it, and this uncomfortable wooden bed with a holey mattress.

And here I am now. He let me keep my bag, surprisingly. It is hung over the padded chair. He took my phone, of course. But my water bottle and journal remain.

I guess his twisted mind wants me to write. To document such a disgusting act. Either way, he won’t be reading it and if he does…

You disgust me.

Wednesday, 5^th May

My family will be looking for me. The police will come and find me. I have to tell myself this or I will lose it completely.

I was so incredibly close to giving up. I could never, though. I must stay alive. For my mother, my father and my little brother.

They will miss me. They will come.

He came down to give me breakfast and a dresser. It was filled with female clothing – which, honestly, was pretty stylish – and it had a mirror on the top. I looked terrible.

Black was smudged and dried on my cheeks. My mascara. My dull eyes were bloodshot, and my lips were pursed, eyebrows tilted downward. There was a faint red hand mark on the side of my face from when he had assaulted me.

I’ve been here one night, and I can’t stand it. I decided to scream and cry and shout for at least an hour in a desperate attempt. Maybe he had a visitor?

Instead, he came down.

“The room is soundproof,” he said. “But I felt like you were struggling. The sooner you accept it, the better. Now eat and get dressed.”

He slapped me again. I lunged at him. Stupid, I know. But what would you do if you were kidnapped and you had been assaulted twice, and the person who had caused this horror was right in front of you?

Anyway, he grabbed my hands and threw me to the floor. He had one foot on my back, pressing me into the damp, stone floor.

I began to cry. He told me to shut up and stomped on me. I whimpered and did as he’d demanded. He then went back upstairs.

Now, I’m here. Having yet another breakdown on Day 1. My family must come soon, or I won’t be able to carry on.

Thursday, May 6^th

I’m writing this with blood dripping from my mouth. It tastes disgusting, and I wish I’d just stayed in Math that day. He brought another person downstairs. He began to beat her while I stood, frozen in fear and shock. He simply glanced at me. She was barely conscious when he was done.

“Fix her up. I’ll need her again.” He was calm. He beat her until she was almost dead and expected a teenager to conduct first-aid?!

I rushed to her aid. The sight was horrendous. I was so mad that I was seeing red. I charged him and he toppled over. I made a run for the door, but my ankle was grabbed, and my chin hit the floor with a loud crack.

That’s when I tasted the blood. I was knocked out and I woke up in this bed, yet again. The woman was nowhere to be seen. I was scared for the worst.

Blood was still dripping from my mouth and I thought about the run. I’d been so peaceful; so happy. I hadn’t even noticed whether he’d been following me the entire time. I was so arrogantly blissful, and this was the price I paid.

My heart caught in my throat and I choked out a long, pained sigh, blood exploding from my mouth.

Friday, 7^th May

This idiot has written about me as though I’m a psycho. The truth is, I’m not. I want to fix her, but I can’t while she still believes in her “family”. I saw her stunning beauty and believed she could be fixed. Fixed into my family. She was fit and healthy, but she was supposed to be in class! I made it my responsibility to fix her. So far, she has been disobedient and in result, I have hit her. But you must understand that her last entry was ludicrous. She most certainly didn’t bleed out for that long. And “the woman” is fine. She is my wife. Will be, at least. Fiancé, you can call her.

She will be fixed and she won’t be found. Her mind will change and so will her looks. No-one will look for her and neither of us will want her to be found.

I will make her perfect; my little creation.

But in order to do that, I will take away this journal, and when she is thinking straight, I shall give her a new one.

Why am I writing this entry if I’m going to put it away? For my own pleasure.

This girl will be fixed, and nobody will find us.

The sun she had written so fondly about will not be seen for years to come, and instead, the darkness of this little room will engulf her.

For now, the darkness will be her friend, and the light will be diminished.