I Remember

I remember the cold, damp ground. I remember the red liquid oozing from my near lifeless body. How the grass felt, how the wind felt, my limbs unable to move. I remember feeling like I was watching my body from above, dissociated, cold and waiting. 

It had been a day like any other Wednesday, I’d taken the bus to work in a small independent coffee shop. Not a bad job, good colleagues, good customers. Like any day, I’d got in, served the regulars, made small talk, put on a nice smile. After I’d finished I said bye to everyone and walked to the bus stop. I remember the sun beaming down on me but the rain clouds looming, the smell of the coming rain. I got on the bus.

The walk home was around 15 minutes, a route I was overly familiar with. I didn’t have to pay attention to where I was going anymore. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. The shadows on the floor. The trees rustling in the wind. The dog walkers, the children in the park, the cars going past. Maybe I should have paid attention. Maybe I would’ve noticed the hooded figure I’d seen and paid no mind to before I got on the bus. The shadow of a person behind me. The same car going past me more then once. I might have heard his footsteps running towards me, smelt the cologne he was wearing, seen the cloth coming towards my face. Instead all I felt was the hard ground, the strong grip, the ties on my wrists and ankles. And blackness. 

At first I couldn’t tell how many people there were, the drugs keeping me drowsy, the blindfold over my eyes eliminating my sight and the ringing in my ears making their voices jumble together. I think there were two of them, but I was unable to do anything to fight against them. Did I know them? Did they know me? What did I do? Was it a bitter ex boyfriend? We hadn’t ended on good terms, he had been controlling and abusive. But he’d moved away three months ago. Someone from work? Had I upset anyone there? A friend is upset somehow? I had no idea. I was someone people confided in, I knew a lot of my current and old friend’s secrets. Maybe someone didn’t want one of them getting out? Like I said. I didn’t know anything other than that I had been kidnapped. 

I don’t know how long I’d been in the vehicle, I’d tried to move but I was too drowsy; too tired, the space too small. It was dark when I was dragged out. The rain had started, the stars and moon behind the clouds. I tried to speak but I was gagged, I suspect it was the cloth they’d used to knock me out earlier. I was dragged by the tie on my arms across gravel, then stones, followed by what felt like concrete. The rain was getting heavier, falling on my body until we reached the concrete. The air was cold on my wet skin, the floor was hard, I heard a door slam shut. A hushed whisper. And then pain. 

Pain like I had never felt followed, I don’t really know what happened to me, but I saw a foot come towards my face almost in slow motion although it hit hard like I’d been in a car crash. My ears were ringing, my face felt sticky with the blood coming from my nose which mixed with the rain water in my hair, I felt heavy, like I’d never stand up straight again. In that moment all I wanted was for the darkness to take over; for the pain to stop. I closed my eyes, hoping for the nightmare to end but the pain kept coming. In my stomach, my legs, my back. I felt one of them break my leg. I don’t know if I screamed. I didn’t know if I could. I felt myself being lifted onto someone just as hard as the floor. I kept my eyes closed and my body limp in hopes they’d leave me alone and leave me for dead. I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

As I felt my hand and ankles being untied from the original ties from earlier, I felt them being re-tied to the corners of (what I assume was) a table they had placed me onto. The ringing in my ears was lessening, but I would’ve preferred them to make it come back. I heard fabric being moved, laughter of two men and then felt myself become very cold as they tore off my clothes. I tried to open my eyes, I tried to scream, I tried to move. It was pointless. I wasn’t in my body anymore. I was floating somewhere above it; the pain dulled, the noises far away. Yet I knew what was happening as they pulled their pants down and used me for whatever they wanted. I thought of my friends, my family, trying to forget where I was. 

I remembered the weekends I’d had with my family as a child. The days out, the holidays. The days we went to the zoo, the hours we spent waiting to get onto roller coasters. The days I’d spent picking out the perfect dress for my prom, my first date with a boy. The happy memories, my favourite days. The road trip I’d taken just after my best friend got her first car. We’d driven from London to Scotland and back. Laughing and singing the songs on the radio, telling each other our deepest secrets, embarrassing stories. Stayed in random hotels and service stations. The best two weeks of my life. Did she know I was gone? Did she realise I hadn’t come home from work yet? I didn’t know how long it had been or where I was. But I hoped it would end soon. 

When I returned to my harsh reality I was sore and being thrown around the back of the same vehicle I had been in when I’d first been taken. Still gagged, ties once again on my wrists and ankles, but this time with my hands behind my back, my legs bent, tied together so I couldn't move at all. I tried to scream but as I inhaled I could smell something that made me cough, making me nearly choke on the gag. Laughter filled my ears once again. They stopped soon after. They got out, I heard the doors open and close. I expected light but it never came. I waited for any sign of life, listening to outside the car for anyone. I heard nothing. The men got back in the car a little later and continued driving. How long did they drive for? I couldn’t tell you. My head kept banging on the car as they drove over potholes and around corners until, finally, they stopped again. 

This time they opened the boot of the car and a bright light made me squint. It was bright, the sun was out but the air was cold. When my eyes focused I saw their faces. Smiling evilly down at me. It was Christopher, an old boyfriend, next to him was his best friend, Donovan. “Hello Clare. Welcome to your end” Chris said to me, cold amusement in his voice. I couldn’t speak but I stared him in the eyes, not breaking eye contact as his hands came towards me, grabbing my hair and pulling me out by it. We were surrounded by trees, I recognised the place. It was the trail we used to walk most weekends. We’d had picnics in this exact spot countless times. I was in disbelief. Why would he bring me here? 

“You recognise it then?” he started. “I thought it quite fitting seeing as how it’s where you ruined me. You; in your perfect little world, thinking you can do no wrong.” he was pacing around me in a circle. Donovan looked at him, communicating something through a look. Chris sighed and looked back down at me. Slowly, he pulled a knife from a bag I hadn’t realised he had and came towards me, bending down on one knee. “Ironic how I’ve been in this position once in this exact spot. Completely different scenario. Different feelings” he shrugged. He then steadily sunk the knife into arm. I felt it tear through the skin, the muscle, completely powerless to do anything about it. I tried to scream but it came out muffled which only seemed to amuse him more.  He continued this again and again, in my leg, my side, my stomach and chest. Eventually I blacked out. 

I faded in and out after that, long after they’d left me there. On the wet grass. I remember being cold, the rain beating down on me. I remember the cold wind on my naked body, freezing and harsh. Dissociated from my body, watching myself from above. Lifeless, frozen and alone.