Abandoned

I sit alone and I wait. The silence is deafening. The blackness is total. The fear, my fear, suffocates me. I can actually taste it. The salty, gaulding bile rises in the back of my throat and I gag on the futility of it all. How could I, of all people, have ended up like this? 

I pride myself on being self-sufficient. I have never needed anybody. Not until now. Now, I would give my right arm for one of my big brothers or my ex-husband to walk through the door. I would kiss the feet of my worst enemy were she to get me out of here. 

But that was not to be the case. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but it’s been a while. My hair is a good two inches longer than when I arrived. That same ex-husband would love it. He always griped when I cut my hair. Now, I wish I was bald. The lice wouldn’t have as much to chew on.

In some ways I’m glad I can’t see myself. From what I can guess, my body is a total mess, and the smell, well I don’t even like to think about that. The dirt and excrement covering my body stink to high heaven, but the rats don’t seem to mind. Every now and then one will take a nibble. 

I have infection somewhere. I can smell it. Rotting flesh. I can’t find it though, with my hands tied behind my back. I can’t even feel my hands anymore. And my legs, well, that was a whole other story.

I don’t think whoever dropped me in here wanted it to happen. My screams and the snaps of breaking bone seemed to have shocked him. I don’t know what he expected. You drop a bound woman down and thirty foot hole and something is going to break. He did splint them for me. Not that it did much good. Still hurt like hell for a while. Not so much anymore.

Nothing hurts now. I don’t know whether it’s lack of food or just body parts dying, and I don’t really care. It’s nice not to be in constant pain. I know, pain means my body is still fighting, but my mind can only stand so much fight. I’m tired.

I try to sleep, but it doesn’t work. The rats keep me awake. I lay here and I listen to them coming. I can keep them away by screaming or jerking as much as possible, but eventually exhaustion takes over and I’ll pass out. I wake up and feel them. My shrieks force them away again but it’s too late. I think that’s where the infection came from.

I still have no idea why he took me. I asked, at first, but soon learned it was a hopeless case. He wasn’t going to tell me. All he would do was mumble something about uppity women thinking he was stupid. “I’ll show you stupid,” he would yell every time he slapped me, or he’d ask, “Who’s stupid now?” while he was bucking on top of me. 

I’ve never met the man before in my life but that didn’t seem to matter. He still hated me. You want to hear the sick part? I wish he would come back. 

I wanted him to stay away at first. I would scream and curse at him every chance I got. I told him I would rather starve than have him touch me again. I spoke in big words to make him feel as stupid as he said women thought him to be. I made him furious. I did a good job. 

Too good.

He hasn’t been back in a long time. My stomach quit rumbling a while back. Now, it’s just a gnawing pain that won’t go away. I’ve had dry heaves and the passing out spells are coming closer together. I would eat the rats, but I can’t catch one in my mouth. I’ve tried.

I wonder if anyone misses me. My family probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone yet. I only talk to them a couple times a year. I guess maybe my clients wonder where I went, but freelance designers aren’t always the most reliable so I’m sure they just hired someone else when I failed to show up. The bill collectors are probably more worried about me than anyone else.

It turns out independence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and I’m not as independent as I thought I was. I’m lonely. I miss talking with people. I miss my family. I miss my life. I miss a lot of things.

“Wake up!” 

I can’t believe it. He’s back! I must have passed out again and didn’t hear him come in. 

He has coffee. I can smell it. I miss coffee.

He also has a bag. I don’t know what’s in it, but it smells delicious. I miss food.

He has a bucket and rag. Soapy water! I miss taking a shower.

He has the knife. He pushes it into my throat as he rapes me so I won’t resist. He doesn’t need the knife anymore. 

“Did you miss me?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper back.

I miss a lot of things.

Kim's Kindness

Kim knew she shouldn’t have left her mother, but the little puppy was so cute, and she’d never been able to resist cuteness.

She kept following the little ball of fur farther and farther into the woods. “Here, puppy,” she tried again. The puppy would stop and look at her, but never come close. He’d cock his head to the side and then run off again. Kim was scared he’d get hurt out there all alone. She didn’t stop to think what might happen to her out there.

Suddenly, the puppy stopped and started whimpering. Kim was able to walk right up to it. She scooped the little bundle up and held him close, trying to quiet his fear. When the puppy settled down, she heard something. “No, please!” someone begged. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Kim edged closer to the sound. When she peeked through some brush, it was her doing the whimpering and not the puppy. Not too far from where she stood, a man was standing over a woman. He had something in his hands, but Kim couldn’t tell what. She could tell the woman was scared though. Her eyes were wide and she was crying.

Kim stepped back, intent on finding her mom and getting the police. The crack of the branch she stepped on seemed to resonate through the whole forest.

Kim gasped.

The man’s head snapped toward her.

The woman screamed “No!” when she saw Kim.

The scream broke through Kim’s terror. She spun around and started running.

Behind her, she heard the man grunt and then yell for the woman to let him go. The woman said something Kim couldn’t hear and then yelled, “Run, child, run!”

Kim didn’t have to be told. She was running as fast as her legs would take her. The puppy was trying to get free, but Kim wouldn’t let him. “No,” she told him. “You have to stay with me. You can’t save her.”

She thought she’d made it. The edge of the woods were in sight. Kim raced ahead, but suddenly the breath was knocked from her.

The puppy squealed when Kim landed on him but managed to squirm his way out from under her. Then he charged at the man. Every time the man tried to get close to Kim, the puppy would snarl and bite at him. Finally, the man had enough. Kim watched in dismay as he kicked the puppy. She couldn’t tell where the puppy landed, but the sick thud and silence broke her heart.

The man reached down and picked Kim up. She fought, but was no match for his strength. After she bit his neck, he slapped her so hard she saw stars. “Do that again and I’ll break your neck,” he warned.

Kim was so scared. She didn’t want to die. She wanted her mommy. She promised God that if he got her away from the man, she’d never wander off again, no matter how cute the puppy was.

It seemed they walked forever before getting back to the woman. The man threw Kim down beside her. Kim got sick after seeing all the blood covering the woman’s face. Kim figured the man had hit the woman with the big stick lying beside her.

“Is…sh..e..dea..d?” Kim stammered.

“I sure hope not,” the man said. “I haven’t had enough fun with her yet.”

Kim didn’t understand what he meant. She didn’t think the woman had had any fun at all with the man. She hoped he was right about her not being dead, though.

The man picked up the big stick and told Kim to do as she was told or he’d beat her to death with it. He then grabbed one of the woman’s legs and started dragging her farther into the woods. “Come,” he told Kim.

When she wasn’t moving fast enough, he prodded her along with the stick. Kim kept glancing back at the woman. She didn’t see how she could sleep while being dragged. Finally, she thought she saw the woman open her eyes. Kim started to say something, but the woman put a finger to her lips. “Get a move on!” the man yelled and swatted Kim with the stick.

They walked a little longer until they came to a tent. The man told Kim to sit on a stump and dropped the woman beside her. The woman acted like she was still sleeping whenever the man looked, but she winked at Kim when his back was turned.

Kim watched as the man rummaged in a bag. When he pulled out some rope and came toward her, she started crying. The man kicked the woman out of the way and started to tie Kim’s wrist.

He was busy with Kim and not paying attention to anything else. Kim saw movement from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t believe it when she saw the puppy. The little dog started nipping at the man’s legs. He was jumping around so fast the man couldn’t catch him. The man finally got so mad he picked up the stick and hit the puppy.

Kim didn’t think, she just lunged at the man. She hit him hard enough to knock him off balance. The stick flew out of his hand. Kim was trying to get up off the ground, which wasn’t easy with her hands tied, when she heard the man roar. He was coming after her when the woman stood up.

Kim watched as the woman picked up the stick and ran for the man. She struck him in the head and he went down. Then the woman kept hitting him and hitting him. Kim had to turn away.

The woman finally stopped and fell to her knees. She crawled to Kim and asked her if she was ok. Kim couldn’t stop crying, but she wasn’t hurt. The woman helped her to her feet and told her they needed to find her mother. They were leaving the campsite when Kim heard it. A slight mewling sound and then a moan.

“The puppy!” she yelled and pulled her hand free.

Pick of the Litter

Our writing exercise this week was for the narrator to be a spectator to the story. I'm not sure I got it exactly right, but here's my take:

Sometimes, I watch them and I just know they’ll be mine. Other times, they still surprise me. It’s rare, mind you, but when it happens, I can hardly contain my frustration. After all, I picked them for a specific reason, because they have that special something I’m looking for, so when it doesn’t work out I have to start over from scratch. I hate wasting my time like that.

Take Carly, for instance. I thought she was perfect. I’ve been watching her for weeks. I picked her because she has that certain something, an elegance about her, that I find appealing in any woman. The only problem is that I’m starting to think it’s all a facade.  

When she thinks no one is looking, Carly can be downright crude. I so hate crudeness in a woman. I’m going to have to watch and think on this a little longer. Thankfully, I have Tara to satisfy my needs in the meantime. 

Sweet Tara. Well, she wasn’t so sweet when she first woke up, but I’ll forgive her for her lapse into the vulgar. It would be a shock to wake up in a strange room with all your clothes removed and a clown bending over you.

Still, she kept her dignity for the most part, and she never, ever acted like a slut the way Carly does. No, Tara definitely has that special something. 

Once she calmed down, Tara was a delight to watch. She tentatively reached out to the clown to see if he was real or not, which I thought showed great courage. After assuring herself the clown was only a prop, Tara searched the room for an escape route. That part is always fun to watch. I never know exactly how they’ll search or how long it will take before they give up, but the end result is always the same. The utter hopelessness that washes over them when they realize there is no way out is delicious.

When the tears stopped, Tara got mad. I love it when they get mad. The pounding on the door, scratching at the walls and screaming just heighten my desire. It’s almost time.

She’s finally settled down and is back sitting on the bed. Now I can release the gas. I would love to just lower myself through the ceiling opening and appear while they are awake, but that isn’t feasible. I don’t believe any of the women could overpower me, but you never know what can happen when adrenaline takes over. Yes, better safe than sorry I always say, which is why I use the gas to knock them out before I enter the room. 

Here goes nothing.

That’s a girl, lay down and sleep, daddy will be there soon…