Page 8 of Shattered

I can’t believe I thought he was harmless.It was so obvious to everyone else around me, but for some unexplainable reason, I chose to turn a blind eye to what was staring me right in the face.

I don’t want to be the type of person who judges others simply because they’re different.In this instance, though, I should have followed the flock.

A faint sound above tears me from my thoughts, instantly making my heart beat faster.The floorboards creak with each step, the sound eerily reminding me of a horror film.Shrouded in darkness, I can’t see a thing.But I can hear.The sound becomes more prominent, getting closer until I hear a door open.Someone descends the rickety stairs, and I can only assume it’s the man who now holds me captive.

A faint light is turned on in the farthest part of the room.Even though it isn’t bright, it takes me some time to fully adjust to it. When I turn my head, I can see the back of Samuel.He’s fiddling with something, but I’m not quite sure what.He’s blocking my view.

“Samuel,” I call out.“Where am I?”I’m hoping if I talk to him, engage him in conversation, he’ll see what he’s doing is wrong.There has to be a rational man inside him somewhere, and I’m going to do my best to find him.

He doesn’t answer, but he stops moving.

“Samuel?Please, look at me.”My voice is a liar.I sound calm, but I’m anything but.I’m terrified and cracking on the inside.

“Sara.Oh, Sara.I never meant for this to happen.You have to believe me.But you made me so angry.Why did you try to leave me?”He’s starting to become anxious and twitchy the more he speaks.

“I’m sorry.I just wanted to go home to see my gram.I didn’t mean to upset you.”I expel a deep breath before adding, “Can you let me go now?We can pretend none of this happened.”A tear escapes and dances down my cheek.“I won’t tell anyone.I promise.”

He quickly turns around and walks in my direction, an object held loosely in his hands.I try to see what it is, but I don’t have a good angle.

“I can’t, Sara.I’m so sorry, but I can’t.You’ll tell, and I can’t go back there.I have such nightmares, and no one helps me.”His voice trails off.“No one helps me,” he repeats.

“I won’t tell, Samuel.I promise.Please, untie me.No one will ever know.I’ll tell my gram I stopped off to do some shopping before coming home.She’ll believe me.Please…just let me go home.Please, Samuel,” I plead.

He hovers over me, his hands hiding behind his back. “I’m sorry, Sara.I can’t.”He moves a smelly rag over my mouth and nose in one quick motion.I try to fight and catch my breath, but I only make it worse.I quickly fade back into unconsciousness, blackness creeping in all around to swallow me up.

Time passes undetected, consciousness a fleeting luxury.I’m losing the ability to think straight, to wrap my head around the severity of my demise.

It’s like I’m in a constant state of fuzziness.

During one of my brief moments of alertness, I overhear Samuel talking to someone at his front door.I try to struggle against my restraints, but it’s no use.Moments later, I hear him walk across the room above me, round the corner and start his descent to my dark dungeon.

“Who was at the door, Samuel?Was it someone looking for me?Please, Samuel…please, just let me go.I swear I won’t tell anyone.”I tell him over and over I won’t give him away, but he never believes me.

“I can’t do that, Sara.You belong here with me now.If we’re going to make this relationship work, you’re going to have to trust me.”He utters his words with calmness, but there is an undeniable annoyance laced behind each syllable.

Relationship?What the hell is he talking about?He’s even more delusional than I had originally thought.

Knowing better than to antagonize him by rebutting his earlier statement, I simply ask him again who was at the door, doing so in the calmest tone I can muster.“Samuel, can you please tell me who you were talking to?”

“A detective.”He doesn’t offer up any more information.I’m hopeful to hear they’re at least looking for me, not realizing how long I’ve actually been missing.

“Can you tell me how long I’ve been here?”When he doesn’t answer right away, I continue interrogating him.“Samuel?’

“What?” he angrily shouts at me.

I have to tread carefully because I don’t know what he’s fully capable of, not wanting his anger to escalate and fatally harm me.

“Would you be able to please tell me how long I have been here with you?”

“Four days,” he says before turning off the light and disappearing up the steps.

Left in darkness once again, I have nothing but time to think.My poor grandmother is probably going out of her mind with worry.She knows I would never take off, so she has to realize I’m in some sort of danger.But what’s the hold-up?I know people saw me hop into his truck, so why aren’t they busting down the door to rescue me?

I drift off to sleep, my weariness too much to keep me alert any longer.

Sometimes, I feel his fingers work their way through my hair, relishing the feel of me.Other times, I feel his face directly above mine, almost touching me.

He feeds me very little, no doubt making sure I remain weak.Each time I need to go to the bathroom, I have to wait until he decides to come and check on me.Even then, he has me use a bedpan.It’s humiliating to say the least, but I have to focus on the bigger picture.

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