My name is Emiska Reynolds.

Warning: Physical violence, abuse & self-harm.

Sitting on the damp, worn timber slats, the air I breathe is suffocating. It’s a fusion of salty brine and rotting wood. In a bid to pass time, I lift the musky corner of, tattered carpet I’m sitting cross legged on. Taking the end of a bobby pin I keep hidden, I scratch it back and forth with pressure to place another marking into the wood. I lightly blow away the shavings I’ve created and let the carpet slap back against the planks. I adjust it ever so slightly to make sure my markings are covered. It’s been around one thousand, two hundred and seventy eight days since I’ve been here, and to be honest, I’m not even sure where here is. All I know is that I have been floating around the abyss with a stranger who abducted me. The constant rocking gives me motion sickness and the water that gently caresses the side of the vessel often lulls me to sleep.

An imperfection in one of the planks taunts me. Constantly reminding me it stands between me and the world I’m missing out on. A slither of natural light filters through. It’s the reason I can tell night from day. I love holding my palm up to the crack so I can see the sun light up my skin. How I miss the feeling of being embodied by its warmth.

I spin around on my buttocks using my tiptoes to push off the ground. Grabbing my poor excuse for a blanket, I fold it, my kidnapper hates mess. The faded tartan has pill all over it and even if I fold it in half, it does very little to keep me warm. I create a perfect square and place it in the corner. I’m not entirely sure what his eyes look like. Since he abducted me, he’s made it his mission to always have his face concealed in some way, shape or form. The moment he grabbed me, I noticed his shirt had a name patch that said Ben, woven in red embroidery. I never call him that to his face, but it's how I refer to him in my head.

Who would have thought that a trip to the local amusement park in 2001 with a bunch of my friends would have changed my life forever? My friends and I were excited to try out the new Jack-o-lantern ride that had been installed for Halloween. I will never forget the 31st of October that year. It is tattooed in my brain. I replay it every waking minute.

The day started off like any other ordinary day.

“Good morning honeybun!” mum said as I raced down the stairs skipping a few at a time. She always used to call me honeybun, my mum and I were a team, us against the world she would always say.

“Morning mum.” My voice was over the top cheery.

I remember I planted a kiss so hard on mums’ cheek she lost her balance and had to grab the bench so she wouldn’t fall over.

“Easy tiger”, she giggled. I always smile at that thought.

“I made you some breakfast!”

“Oh mum, come on do I have to”. I groaned at the thought of having to eat something.

“Emiska!” “Breakfast young lady or you just might not be going anywhere today.”

I remembered her tone was half joking and half serious and I never dared challenge her.

“Fine”, I had said pulling out the orange dining chair and downing my waffle that she had drenched in maple syrup. She was such a good mum, I miss her so much. I rest my chin on my knees and hug my shins tight with my arms, wishing they were hers. I’ve never felt so alone.

I shouldn’t have eaten so fast that morning because it gave me indigestion.

After breakfast my friend Rebecca came with her dad to pick me up.

I was waiting by the cream lace curtains in our living room, busting with excitement, as soon as I saw her dad’s metallic grey Land Rover pull into our driveway, I let go of the lace and ran over to mum grabbing her from behind. I gave her a massive squeeze and squealed “Bye mum!”

“You be careful Emiska”, mums words echoed through the house as I grabbed my backpack and slid my feet into my sketchers without undoing the laces.

“Yeah yeah”, I replied.

“I’m serious, and home no later than 4pm, you got that?”

“Yes, mum, love you”, I remember pulling the door shut behind me. Who knew that would be the last time I would get to walk out of my home.

Looking back, I wish I hadn’t rushed that goodbye. I didn’t know it would be the last time I would get to wrap my arms around her. Or smell her faint perfume that lingered on all her clothes, even after they had been washed. I would never make it home by 4pm that day, but not because I didn’t listen to her.

Tears swell in my eyes as I once again rewind and replay the events that unfolded that unusually warm Autumn day. We arrived at the amusement park and Rebecca’s dad dropped us off in front of the spectacular iron gates.

“You girls be back here in this spot by 3.30pm.”

“Okay dad, see ya”, Rebecca had replied.

“Enjoy yourself girls, stick together and be safe”, he said.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr Harrison.” I remember I smiled at him and slammed the door.

Both Rebecca and I were meeting up with some of our other friends by the big wipeout.

We looked up at the gates turned to each other in embrace and jumped up and down with excitement

“Eeeeeeee”, we said in unison

“Come on let’s go get our tickets!” Rebecca grabbed my hand and pulled me to the ticket booth. After getting our tickets we headed for the wipeout.

“Ooooo fairy floss”, Rebecca squealed.

“Already, shouldn’t we go meet the others?” I questioned.

“Emi you know how much I love fairy floss!” “Wait here I’ll just be a minute the lines not that long yet” Rebecca let go of my hand and ran for a dose of cotton candy.

I wonder if she ever thinks about that moment she let go of me. There were people everywhere, so it only took a split second before I lost my line-of-sight to Rebecca. I was fourteen years old without a care in the world, I grinned from ear to ear as I soaked in the rides around me, I was in love with the dreamy Ferris wheel, covered in magical lights. It was a dream of mine to take a ride on that Ferris Wheel. I was in heaven as I soaked in the atmosphere, if only I knew it was about to turn into hell, maybe I would have stayed home that day.

I felt a tight grip on my shoulder and thought it was Rebecca bouncing back with a large pink cloud, but I gasped when I looked up and saw a man in a black New York baseball cap and black shield like sunglasses. He leant into my ear. The way his hot breath felt on my ear made me want to vomit.

“Do not scream, do not open your mouth and you will be fine”. I remember looking down at my sketchers briefly before looking back, using my eyes to silently scream for help. Everyone was so engrossed with their own agenda; I was just another face in the crowd. Not one person could tell that this man was taking me hostage.

“Ow you’re hurting me”, I said it loud enough so people walking past would hear me.

“What are you doing?” “Shut up!” he scolded me with a low undertone.

I guess people just thought he was my dad. I recall locking eyes with one lady who had a baby strapped to her in one of those carriers. She just side eyed me, as if I was a spoilt brat. Shouldn’t a mother recognise a child in distress when she sees one? I thought. I think it’s called a mother’s intuition.

I wasn’t standing far from the entrance when he grabbed me, so it wasn’t long before I was back in the carpark. The day I had been longing, had been left behind.

“I have friends waiting for me you know!” I told him.

“Hm”, he let out a wicked snicker and that’s when everything escalated.

I was terrified and started to shut down. Here I was, a tiny, framed teenager. The car park was jam packed, but as I turned my head hoping someone would see me all I could see were empty vehicles. I couldn’t see a single person. This criminal was so strong, in one swift motion he picked me up and threw me into the trunk of his car. I was paralysed with fear. Looking back, I was a downright moron. I pretty much handed myself to him on a silver platter. I should have tried to save myself. Kicked, screamed, I should have done something, anything, but it just all happened so fast. I remember my eyes widening as he retrieved a cloth and held it over my mouth. I made it easy for him, no struggle. The pale blue cloth coming towards me was the last thing I remember, before waking up here around three and a half years ago.

Shifting around to try and release the tension I have from my disturbing recollection, I focus on my confined space. Every day I study every inch of it, hoping I will discover something new. The prison I’m being held captive in is eleven steps long and five steps wide. I’ve stepped it out so many times I’ve lost count. I do it to amuse myself so I don't go insane, even though I know the answer will always be the same. A small door that’s locked from the outside is the only way in and out. My toilet is a bucket that the monster comes to empty once a week. The stench I must endure at times makes me want to vomit.

I have no idea how far I am from my home, in Santa Monica. I hear the odd seagull now and then which is a small luxury. All my bones are protruding; I’m only fed once a day it resembles disgusting sloppy oatmeal. I used to hate vegetables, but now it’s all I crave. My body is in desperate need of vitamins.

The only thing keeping me slightly sane is that this guy is, whoever he is, has not placed a single finger on me. Which is just totally weird. Why on earth would you snatch someone, hold them hostage and leave them sitting in a room? I shake my head. I watched enough news with mum when I was younger to understand, that these situations usually end up horrendously.

I hear Ben's footsteps, maybe today is the day he will have a conversation with me I think hopefully. This guy must have one hundred keys on the same key chain; the keys always jingle in the lock.

Scrreecch. The door slowly opens.

Today he's wearing a black ski mask. I wish I could just get a small clue as to who he actually is.

“Hello”. He doesn’t respond “Please! Please tell me why you’re keeping me here.” I begged him.

“No questions” Ben says irritated.

“Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone about this, I promise”.

Nothing. He ignores me as he takes my waste bucket and replaces it with an empty one.

“Can you at least tell me your name? Your real name. Who are you?” I sound desperate and boy am I desperate. I don’t know how much longer I can endure this fate. Death has crossed my mind. Surely it’s a better option than whatever this is.

“Here you go” Ben's voice is raspy and deep. Placing the bowl of slop just inside the doorway, the metal plate strikes the wood.

CLANG!

It startles me. “Please I want to eat something else I’m sick of this stuff”. I can tell he's angry, the door slams shut. I let out a sigh.

I press my ear to the door, I can hear his footsteps coming back, then the keys. The door is pushed open, but only ever so slightly. My prayers have been answered I think as small red apple rolls in and stops short in front of me.

I pick up the apple are my eyes deceiving me?

I hold it with both palms and bring it up to my nose and take a long slow breath in. Then I devour it, like a piranha feasting on fresh meat. The sweet juice oozes as my teeth sink into the piece of fruit. It drips drown my chin and onto my arms, I savour every single bite.

“Thank you”, I yell. I don’t know if Ben can hear me.

It’s my birthday soon. I was born on August 25th, 1987. Well at least I think it is. I cannot believe I will be 16 years old soon.

Each day my hope fades a little more. It’s been so long now, maybe they’ve stopped looking. My thought is interrupted.

BANG!

I’m flung across the room as the boat shudders violently. I pull myself up off the floor, I can hear voices! I hang on every word, it’s Spanish are we in Mexico I wonder.

This is it Emiska, it’s now of never! I start screaming and kicking the wooden wall violently.

“HELP, HELLLLLLPPP, PLEASE I’M IN HERE”

I kick so hard the piece that lets the light peek through gives way. I race to put my face to the hole, it’s another boat and I can see two men ogling me in disbelief.

“Hello please, help me, please I’m being held captive” I pray they can understand me I shove my hand out the hole and wave frantically, “I’m in here please help me” I do not stop shouting and banging the side of the boar. I hear the keys in the lock, tears cascade down my face, this is it I think, now I’m dead.

The door opens with such force it ricochets off the wall.

“Get the fuck away from there” Ben's voice echoes loudly in the confined space. He grabs my hair “Leettt me go”, I howl kicking and screaming, this time I refuse to go without a fight.

Using my long hair like a rope Ben reels me in, flipping me over. His sunglasses reflect a petrified girl. I stare at my terrified reflection as I watch his fingers creep into the crevices either side of my windpipe. They dig deep and I can’t breathe. My eyes are red and swollen from crying, I just want this to be over, take me now God.

My captor suddenly drops me, I hear a voice yelling in what I assume is Spanish.

“ioye, quítale las manos de encima!” It’s one of the men from the other boat.

POW!

He throws a massive punch and completely knocks out my abductor.

My palms hold me from collapsing I sit there in shock.

Who is this knight in shining armour? His tanned arm extends a lifeline, I reach my hand to meet his. My first human touch, in over a thousand days. Tears swell as a tingling warmth is sent across my body. The gentleman helps me to my feet, while babbling in Spanish. Grabbing me, he quickly leads me out of the room into the air of the open ocean. The sea breeze catches my hair and I bask in it while I rub my throat and suck in the salty air. My emotions run onto my cheeks, but for the first time in a long time they are happy tears. words cannot describe how I feel in this moment. The man tugs me, his eyes pleading. I know I have to get off this floating prison.

The boat I’ve been jailed up on is bigger than I thought, it’s an old sailing boat.

The man leads me to the edge and signals for me to step up, before I do, I pause and look down. The salty spray of the sea hits my face, it's so fresh. Smiling, I finally see the waves that have been keeping me company all these years.

"Thank you", I whisper as I lean over and dip my fingertips into the cool waters of the big blue.

The second man is waiting for me, he extends his hand and wiggles his fingers trying to reach me. As our hands interlock, he smiles to reveal his perfectly straight white teeth and nods. I return the smile, but mine is not as big as his. I'm hoisted onto their flashy looking boat. It's shiny with red and white stripes.

Freedom! My emotions are so confused. I look up at the fluffy white clouds as the sounds of the waves attempt to soothe my nervous system that is in a dizzying spin.

Is it really over?

The men offer me a seat and cover me with a blanket. I feel it brush my jaw as they wrap it around me, it’s so soft.One places his hand is on my shoulder, while the other passes me a hot cup of cocoa, the smell of it reminds me of my mother. My tears fall like rain. As the men try to console me, one reaches deep into his pocket and hands me a tissue.

“¿Cómo te llamas?”, I learnt enough Spanish in school to recognise the words.

In a hush whisper, my voice cracks as I tell him...

“My name is Emiska Reynolds, and I would like to go home.”