Trapped

4:20 a.m. I sit up from the bitter, cold concrete floor. I’m greeted by a steel wire bed with a twin mattress delicately placed on top. My heavy panting breaks the steady silence, while tons of panicked thoughts pour into my head. Where am I? Why am I here? Where are my friends? That doesn’t bother me. I just know I want to get out. Out of this horror. I silently step towards the door and jiggle the doorknob. Its locked, of course. I immediately whip around and look for an object that could bust the door open. A hanger. Yes! I jab the hanger into the keyhole and it quickly unlocked, creaked open, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

    Flash forward. My name is Lindsey, I’m 17, and I disappeared 2 years ago. I’ve been here, underground in this cellar for the whole time, trapped. Living off minimal food, water, and almost no showers whatsoever. I have found small clues about the person who abducted me. He is middle aged, maybe 35. Dark, greasy hair, pale skin and chapped lips. I have no sign of any other identification. Nights are hard here. Loud screams wake me up in the middle of the night. I’m rarely fed, and boredom always lingers around. I’m becoming impatient for the day that I get out. If I ever do.

    Things are always coming back to me about the night when it all went down. It was 3 of my friends and I. Nate, Oliver, and Lydia, walking home from a Friday night football game in early October. The quickest route was through the woods, so we took it of course. Suddenly, a dark figure jumped out and injected Lydia with some sort of drug. She passed out. My immediate instinct was to sprint. He was too fast and caught up with me very quickly. The rest was a blur. Every now and then I would wake up and see the man unlocking doors and stepping onto elevators, dragging the cart I was on behind him. I was extremely puzzled the whole, yet my friends were the only thing on my mind. Besides surviving, of course. Then, I awoke to this horror. To my surprise, I haven’t gotten hurt in any way by him. I’m still unsure of what he’s planning, if he’s planning anything at all. I hope he’s planning nothing at all. 

I really miss all of the people and all of the luxuries I had back home. I’ve been starting to regret what I had said to everyone and how mean I was to them. I wish I could go back and apologize for everything, but I can’t. I feel so bad about it. 

    How fun. Another day in this prison cell. My singular meal today: a slice of aging wheat bread, plain oatmeal, and water. I try to keep it down, when I just want to throw it all up. At this point, I want to die. Whether I kill myself or someone else does. I just want it all to stop. My brain, my heart, my kidneys...my life. I can’t live in these conditions much longer nor do I want too. I could never imagine myself to be like this. Why would you ever want to keep someone cooped up in one place for so long with nothing to think about or do? If you tried to do that to someone, I would consider you as a sick, nasty person. All I can do is sleep, and wait. Sleep and wait, on a continuous cycle. Tonight, I chose to sleep. But this time, I don’t want to wake up. 

I have no clue what time it is. But the pounding at my door both startles and wakes me. “HELP ME, HELP ME!!” an unfamiliar feminine voice yells. I yank open the door, startled by what I see. An individual girl covered in crimson colored blood. “Come with me.” she says. I swiftly follow in her steps. We walk through the hallways and come to a run down wooden door. She opens the door and it leads to the outside, which leaves me in shock. It's been 2 years since I’ve seen grass or sunlight. Happiness floods my senses. It's almost too great to handle. The sun warms my skin, putting an immediate grin on my face. Then I notice what it actually was. It was all a dream. I wake up back in the same place I’ve always been. This drives me insane. I need to get out. 

I sprint to the door and rip it open. I run to a dark red antique wardrobe and stop. I stand silent for a few seconds, when I ask myself “Do you hear that?” Noisy footsteps thump down the cement corridor. I was so scared. I frantically hop in and gently close the door. The small space was uncomfortable and itchy, plus I probably got a few splinters. But I just had to deal with it.

    After what seemed like hours of short breaths and waiting, I don’t hear anything. Which is a green light to finally move. I step out to stretch my legs, amazed to see a handgun in the mid-section of my forehead. The culprit? The man who abducted me. If you were in this situation, what would you think in this moment? To scream? To kick or punch the man? To cry in terror? I didn’t do any of those. I just stood there, dumbfounded in shock.

    “Please, please don’t pull the trigger.” I begged. Seconds passed. “Too late, princess.” He says. And his thumb pushes the trigger, giving me no time to make a move. I’ve never been in so much pain. Not just physically, but emotionally. At this point, I knew I would never see the light of day again, or my family. It all happened so quick. All I had to do was walk in the forest. An average, everyday thing. And then I ended up here. I’ll never get out now. Goodbye.