by J. L. Drake
There were scratch marks and dark spots on the seat. It looked as though someone had tried to claw their way out and I couldn’t blame them. Every hair on my neck was standing on end with fear blazing through me. My throat was sore from the screaming, but all the passing drivers had ignored my pleas for help. They simply kept driving without another sideways glance in my direction.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked again, my voice hoarse from the screams and crying. It was answered the same way, with silence that slowly crept in and made me shudder.
“Shut up!’
“Where are we going?”
“Be a good girl and take orders. Now shut up!”
I wished more than anything to be back at home and under my bed, away from him. The road turned to gravel as we came upon a rundown house, its shudders falling off the hinges. What caught me was someone had boarded up all the windows. To prevent escape. I felt a shiver travel up my spine as the car came to a slow stop.
He got out of the car and didn’t unlock the doors until he was right outside. That small click would have brought me relief at any point in the car ride other than now. I pushed against the other side of the car as he reached one long hand, grabbed me by my ankle, and roughly yanked me out of the car on to the gravel. A scream ripped through my throat as the gravel cut into my skin and my head hit the side of the car.
“Get up!” he ordered. My head was spinning from everything that had happened, but when I didn’t move, he moved me. He grabbed a large chunk of my hair before he lifted me out of the car, ignoring my cries of pain. He roughly dragged me to the house—I couldn’t get my feet to walk and fell often.
The door was solid, he had to slam his body against the wooden blockade and force it open. There was a creak as it slowly opened from his blows, and he threw me inside onto the hardwood floor.
There was no carpet, anywhere. It would be possible to hear every step from anywhere in the home. The house was bare to the bones, the walls held no photos or phones, rooms remained empty of furniture unless it was bolted to the ground. A new wave of fear ripped through me in realization that he had done this before, he had taken precautions for it.
“I said get up!” This time I obeyed, but I got up so fast that my vision turned black for a few moments from the rush.
He roughly grabbed my shoulder and took me into the next room. I was forced to sit in a hard wooden chair in the center of the room. He tied my hands and ankles to the chair. Tears slowly slipped down my cheeks. I feared what he would do to me now that we were somewhere he could control.
“Now don’t move.”
He left the room, leaving the silence and fear to take over as I struggled to free myself from the chair and ropes that bound me. I was right, you could hear his footsteps as he traveled up stairs and moved around over my head. I tried to remain quiet as he came back to see me, the steady footfalls echoing down the stairs until he re-entered the room. His pale hands were wrapped around a black camera. I was ordered to smile, but all that appeared on my lips was a grimace. There was a flash as he took the picture and slowly a white square came out to reveal my picture.
“Oh that’s a good one. I’ll have to keep this,” he said as he closed the distance between us and put his hands on my thighs. Repulsed, I squirmed under his touch, but a smile just spread across his face. He sat in front of me eyes locked on to mine, as he put both hands on my legs and slowly worked his way up my thighs until he got to the edge of my shorts.
“You’re the first to have shorts on—all the others had on skirts so I could get to what I wanted with them in this chair.” I started to cry as his hands went to the button of my shorts and undid it to let them fall slightly. A slow, pleased sigh escaped his lips as he let his hands roam my body.
“Now, don’t struggle. You don’t want to know what happened last time someone struggled,” he said with a soft growl behind his words.
“Please...Please...” I cried, begging him to stop and to let me go.
“Don’t worry I will. You’ll get the ‘welcome home’ I give to them all,” he breathed hotly against my skin before he kissed my neck. I whimpered, afraid of his touch and what he had planned besides using me. I shrieked as his hands slid under my shirt, causing him to crush his mouth to mine as his hands roamed inside.
His lips were rough and sloppy when he kissed me. I cried as he moaned with pleasure. He pulled his lips from mine only to kiss my neck again and trace my jaw line. He tried pulling off my shorts, but from the position I was in it was impossible and since the chair was bolted to the floor he couldn’t move it.
“I guess you’ll be getting your ‘welcome home’ another day,” he eventually said as he pulled away, pleased at what he had accomplished so far as he untied me.
“Now, if you behave like that from now on you’ll do well, but if you break any of my rules you’ll be strictly punished,” he said as I glanced around the house hoping to find an escape route. The front door was out since he had to pound on it a few times to open it, there was no way someone my size could open it.
“What rules?” I asked, moving slowly around the room to look for another exit. There was nothing, literally. I think there was a grand total of ten pieces of furniture in the downstairs area. I could see four chairs a torn apart kitchen along with a round table, the chair I was just in, a sofa and a lounge chair in the den, there was a table in the hallway next to me and another arm chair behind me.
“The good housewife rules.”
He grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the bare rooms of the house. I could hear the echoing clap of my footsteps on the floor as I was forced to follow him to a set of stairs. The stairs led up to a second floor, which had a main room, and then three smaller rooms connected to it. The large window in the main room was boarded up, I would never see daylight again or know if it was night time.
I swallowed my screams as he started pulling me toward one of the rooms. He forced the door open, causing it to slam into the wall behind it, and shoved me into the room. My head hit the floor and I screamed out in pain as I heard him slap something onto the walls behind me. When he was finished he slammed the door shut and clicked the lock into place.
I rubbed my head as tears streamed down my face from the pain and fear that was welling up inside of me. The room was as empty as the house, it had one bed and nothing else. There were no windows or wallpaper—I was stuck in a concrete box!
I looked around the room hoping to find something else, but I only found more trouble. The only other thing in the room besides the bed and a closet door was a row of pictures that hung on the wall. There were thirteen girls’ pictures including mine, which he had just taken.
All of us were in the same position, tied to a chair with our clothes and hair tousled from the drive to the house. I shivered as I stared at girl number twelve’s picture; it was Jennifer Hastings. Her long brown hair fell over her face slightly as she sat in the chair. I had seen her Amber Alert only a few hours ago, and no one had found her while she was in the house with this man. Was there any hope for me, unlucky number thirteen?
Chapter 2
I watched as Andy fell to the ground, the blood pooling on his chest, the breath torn out of his lungs and the warmth of his eyes turned stone cold in front of me. I screamed, pained by the loss. I hit my head hard, forcing me to wake up. My hand instantly touched a concrete wall, instead of the pillows I had on my bed at home.
It was dark, but I knew where I was. In that same plain room he had shown me yesterday or earlier today. I needed a window, or a clock, to tell the time. It was always dark here, like death. I shivered as I remembered the darkness in Andy’s eyes.
He died the second that bullet pierced his skin, it could have gone right through his heart. I killed him; it’s all my fault! If I had shown up late or just gone to his house instead, he would still be alive, and I wouldn’t be here. It was all my fault!
I cried until I ran out of tears. My eyes grew used to the darkness o
f the room. I was able to see the photos of the other twelve girls that had been here before me. Hoping that their pictures would come to life and offer some advice or explanation to why and how to survive this, I got up to examine them. Of course, I knew the photos wouldn’t offer assistance, but I needed something to hope for.
I looked at each picture closely and regretted it instantly. They all had the same expression of fear and pain and had tear-stained faces. Next to the pictures was a piece of paper, ‘The Good Housewife Rules’ was scribbled across it.
“The what?”
There was a hard pounding on the door that almost caused me to jump out of my skin before he walked into the room. He was almost a foot taller than me, wasn’t built, but was stronger than me. His eyes pierced into mine with an emotion that I didn’t recognize, but feared instantly.
“Come with me Kelly,” he said as he grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the stairs. The window was letting in very small amounts of sunlight through the cracks in the boards. Usually mornings were so beautiful to me.
“I’m not Kelly,” I said weakly, tired from crying and screaming. As I took a step down the stairs I felt a hard shove on my back. My body leaned too far forward, and my feet left the ground. I hit stairs with my shoulder before I started rolling down to the bottom until I finally hit the floor with a thud.
“You’re Kelly,” he growled angrily in my ear before he stepped over my crushed body and broken spirit and walked away from me. I didn’t want to move, I couldn’t even if I tried, it hurt too much. My shoulder felt like I had dislocated it, my head was pounding, and my leg felt like it had pins and needles sticking into it.
I let out a short breath meant to be a chuckle; the hospital would have a field day with me if I showed up. I had a feeling that wasn’t an option here as it was at home; I went at least once a year for something. I’d be lucky to get a band-aid here I thought, as I laid there and let tears escape my eyes. Everything hitting me once again, Andy’s death, my kidnapping, my injuries, all of it my fault.
“Kelly, come make breakfast now!” The man yelled. I couldn’t be sure where he was since the house was so empty that the noise resonated from everywhere at once. His booming voice made my head spin worse than before; I definitely had a concussion.
“Kelly! You do as I say!” he shouted as he stomped his way back over to me. I felt his hand clasped on to a large chunk of my hair then forced me off the ground. “Now make breakfast for me and the boy!”
“Who?” I asked through tears as I was pushed me through the house
“Our son, Kelly,” he said putting me in front of a beat up refrigerator. I could hear him walking back up the stairs and took a chance. I started to wobble toward the front door. I had to try to open it.
I stumbled, using the walls to keep my balance and guide me to the door. I blankly stared up the staircase, scared of his threats and power, but I had to try to escape.
“It won’t work.” I heard a new voice say as my hand caught hold of the doorknob. I barely heard the voice, I thought I had made it up at first than I heard the person take a few steps toward me. Their feet sounded like they were sticking to the floor, it reminded me of when I walked barefoot at home.
“Are you going to stop me?” I whispered back to the new voice, still unsure if it was my imagination.
“No. I’m just stating a fact,” a male voice said nonchalantly. Of course, anyone in this house wouldn’t care. They are as tainted as the man that brought me here and that led to my entrapment I thought as I attempted to pull the door open.
I pulled with everything I had in me, but it didn’t move. I tried again, but still the door refused to budge. It wanted to hold me in this prison as much as the man upstairs did.
“I told you so,” the young voice said as the person padded away lightly toward the kitchen.
I let a few tears slip down my cheeks before my legs gave in and I collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. It hurt to stand and hurt to even think of moving back into the kitchen. My leg hurt from the fall, my head was spinning and I wasn’t sure I could stand on my own without some support.
“Kelly, you better be making breakfast! I can’t be late because of you again!” The man yelled down at me sending my head into a frenzy. If I didn’t follow the order I would be punished, as he had threatened previously, so I only had one choice. I forced myself up from the floor and walked back into the kitchen with the wall as my crutch. I quickly started to make a breakfast with eggs and bacon, the only things I knew how to make since I had been unable to practice at home.
“Who are you?” I heard the male voice ask from behind me. Why was this person always behind me? I turned around to see a handsome young man with chestnut brown hair standing behind me. I gasped, he reminded me of Andy, the pain in his eyes was one of suffering and I saw the sign of death.
I let out a sharp sob that scared the young man before me. His eyes widened in shock and he rushed to my side to catch me before I fell.
“I’m sorry I scared you! But please you have to get up! I know you’re tired, but you have to or we are both in trouble,” the young man pushed. The terror in his voice made me think he was trapped here like I was. “Here, let me help you stand up,” he whispered in my ear as he gently lifted me from the ground and put me on my feet again. I slightly cringed at the touch of his white hands, they reminded me of the man who took me.
“Who are you?” I asked as I tried to focus through the double vision.
“I’m Garrett,” he said sadly as he propped me up by the stove and started to throw ingredients into a pan. As he watched the food cook he would occasionally glance at me, touch my arm gently and attempt to sooth me. His soft brown eyes looked me over, they were filled with worry and I saw a flick of another emotion, but he blinked it away and turned around before I could read it.
“Garrett, where are we?” I asked as my head got heavier than the rest of me. I was about to pass out if I didn’t sit down soon.
“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh as he slouched over the stovetop. He immediately stood up straighter when he heard the footsteps coming back down the stairs. “When he comes down, just put it in front of him and say nothing unless you’re talked to,” he said as he bolted from my side and sat at a seat at the table.
He actually went fully around the table and sat at a seat carefully, as if it was assigned to him.
“So who are you?” Garrett asked curiously once he sat down and let some of the tension leave his body. He roughed up his light brown hair, just as something to do.
“She’s your mother you idiot.” The man walked into the room and took the seat at the head of the table. I turned around and slid some of the scrambled eggs that Garrett had prepared onto the man’s plate and then onto Garrett’s.
Garrett offered me a lopsided smile to offer comfort and so that his father wouldn’t see, but all it did was make me want to cry. Why didn’t he help me escape? Why did he live here? How long had he been here anyway?
“Dad,” Garrett said, but stopped when the man put up one of his hand to silence him.
“She’s your mother, now shut up and eat what she feeds you!” I just stood at the stove, playing with the eggs for a while. I was afraid to sit down and deathly afraid of the man behind me. What was going to happen to me here? Would anyone know what happened to me? Would I be killed? Would I ever see my family again?
I heard a chair squeak as someone got up from the table. There was a clinking as the person put the dishes in the sink. I glanced to see Garrett standing at the sink with pain written across his face as he looked at me. He mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to me before he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my kidnapper.
“Now you may sit and eat with me,” the man said, pushing out a chair that was next to him for me to sit in.
I took my steps carefully, afraid of what would happen if I fell and dropped the food on the floor. Would the man get angry? Would I be beaten? I wish I could know wha
t to expect or maybe I didn’t want to know.
“I suppose by now you’ve read the Good Housewife rules, correct?” the man asked, attempting to take my hand when I sat down. I moved my hand away from him. I feared his touch and his actions the most. I had loved Andy, and I repaid him by getting him shot. I shook my head, afraid to speak and say the wrong thing.
“It’s how you’ll act while you’re here. Starting with making breakfast, don’t make me wait again.” He growled as he slid a piece of paper in front of me with twelve rules on it. They were the same ones from the paper in my room. I felt a shiver run down my spine, he was really serious about these rules.
1. Do as you’re told.
2. Have all meals ready for me when I get home.
3. Make sure the house stays clean.
4. Never speak out of turn or back talk.
5. Do not argue. I’m right, you’re wrong.
6. You belong to me and only me.
7. You take care of the house, I provide for the family.
8. You do not leave the house unless told so.
9. You treat me like a loving husband, I will be one.
10 Take care of the kid, he follows similar rules.
11. Never tell me no! See rule 1.
12. Do not try to hurt me, I over power you.
If any of these rules are broken, punishment will ensue.
I stared at the paper speechless and was slowly torn to pieces at every word I read. My life, my freedom, and the love of my life thus far had been stripped away from me all at once. I felt tears coming to my eyes as I heard another chair squeak. The man slowly rose from the table, leaving his dishes on the table. Rule three, make sure the house stays clean. I pulled away when he tried to give me a kiss on the cheek, causing him to growl and hit the table angrily before he went back upstairs.
