The average American Masochistic woman of this age, dream of the most brutal things. They dream of being kidnapped, of being taken far away, where chains and whips become involved. They dream of a rough hand upon their neck, of getting love, and scars. But, these girls rarely really want this to happen. They just fantasize. That's the way I was. I, Emily Martin, was a masochistic teenager. Until that small game of fantasies became a reality. It happened when I was sixteen. I was walking home from school, when a van pulled up and stopped at my side. I didn't think weird of it, until it was too late.
"Get off me!" I yelled as I was suddenly ambushed and a chloroform rag was shoved over my mouth to shut me up. I tried to struggle, I must point that out. But the rag soaked in the chloroform started to make me drowsy, and it all went black.
I rubbed my eyes and groaned. My head was pounding from the strong chloroform. Or maybe it was because of how I was thrown into the van. I tried to sit up, but I was held down by a man. I couldn't see who. I suddenly realized he had tied a handkerchief around my eyes, and I couldn't see a damn thing. The sadistic bastard! My heart raced, and I opened my mouth to speak, but found I couldn't. The chloroform still had effect. I tried to listen for a word from my attacker, but found just the hum of the vans motor as my ear was pressed against the floor of the vehicle. I tried to think and calm my breathing. It seemed like I was in the back of the van, so there must be someone driving the van. And there was someone back here holding me down. So there were two attackers. Suddenly I heard the one back with me speak,
"Hey, John, this girls up."
The other boy, apparently John, replied with, "Really? Hows she holding up?"
The man near me leaned down and spoke into my ear, making me flinch.
"Hey, girl, don't vomit in the car, please. Do you need to use the bathroom?"
I moved my head toward the man, even though my eyes were still covered. Now that he mentioned it, I did feel sick to my stomach. It probably was from the Adrenalin, or the chloroform. I found for my escape as he asked if I needed to use the bathroom. Maybe they would be stupid enough to lead me to a public restroom, or a gas station. I gave a small, but quick series of nods. I heard the man sigh.
"John, she has to pee."
"Well, she'll have to wait."
My hopes dropping, I tried to sit up again, and the man pushed my down for a third time. He gripped my hair. "Keep your head down! If the cops see you, I'll kill you before they get to you. Understand me?"
Hearing this, I staid down for the rest of the trip. About five minutes after, John turned on some rap music, and had the volume on high. I thought of my family the whole rest of the trip.
We finally arrived to our destination within what seemed like ten hours, but it was probably just twenty minutes. The man beside me, who I have still not heard the name of, put a chloroform rag over my face again, and I went unconscious.
When I woke up for the second time, I could tell I was sitting in a chair. My hands were bound behind my back, and my feet were tied to the legs of the dining chair. I gave a soft whimper in response to my booming headache. I opened my eyes and tried to look around, but found my eyes were still covered. I sat there for about an hour, wondering why it had to be me. My dream was finally becoming true, and I was terrified. I practically knew what was coming. Suddenly, after much painful thinking, I heard a door open. I turned my head toward the door, and suddenly noticed that my cheeks felt wet. I was crying, and I never noticed it. I tried to raise my hand to wipe the tears, suddenly ashamed that I had shown my kidnapper my weakness, but my hands were still bound. I listened, and heard footsteps coming closer. They stopped beside me, and I lowered my head, trying to hide the tears, which just kept flowing. I started to tremble from them, and despite my efforts not to, I started to sob. I heard the clatter of metal on metal, and I felt the man grab at the cloth covering my eyes. He lifted it, peeked at my eyes, then grinned. "Blue." He stated, then put the cloth back in place over my eyes.
"Blue eyes. They're beautiful, now stop crying little one." I heard him chuckle, "I havn't even touched you yet."
I sniffled and balled my fists, digging my nails into my palms until I felt warm blood. I cried, and suddenly felt a hand upon my neck. "Now hold still," the man said, and pressed something to my neck. He was slitting my throat! I was sure of it. I screamed loudly out of terror, and flinched my head away. The man grabbed me roughly by the chin and kept me still. "Shh, shh!" He tried to soothe me. "Its just a marker!" Feeling stupid and trembling more out of the sheer terror I was feeling, and rushing adrenalin in my veins, I kept my head still and sniffled again. He pressed the marker to my neck, and I felt him draw a series of short lines.
"There we go." He said, and I heard him place the marker on a table nearby. "Now," I heard the man pull up a chair and sit in it, right across from me. "What is your name, young lady?"
I couldn't speak. I was too shaken up.
"Come on now, sweetie." The man persisted after I didn't reply. "I won't bite... Yet."
I kept my head down suddenly felt sick to my stomach. "E-Emily.." I said, and heard the quiver in my tone.
I could hear the grin on the mans face as he spoke again. "Emily what?"
"...Martin."
"Do you have siblings?"
"Yea..."
"Brothers or sisters?"
"Both."
I had calmed down a little after speaking, but my voice was still obviously shaking.
The man spoke again, "How old?"
I replied, "Two brothers, one twelve and one nineteen. One sister, who is eighteen."
Why was he asking all these questions? After a while, I heard the man stand and begin to leave. He walked to the door, then I heard him hesitate. The footsteps started coming back toward me. Soon he was behind me. I felt him grab me by my blond hair, and pull my head back. I started crying again, terrified, and began to beg.
"Please... Please let me go. I have money, I do. My parents-"
I was cut off as he talked over me. "I don't want your money. I did this for fun." He talked as if it was a regular conversation with his friends. I whimpered, then felt his lips upon mine, roughly. He kissed me deep, and I suddenly felt his disgusting tongue in my mouth. Out of impulse, I bit it. He pulled away quickly and I felt a hard slap upon my right cheek. The man growled.
"You 'it my 'unge!"
I shivered as I sat, blind and my face hurting. The man then let go of my hair and I heard him walk from the room. I had some hope, until I heard that dreaded key click in the lock. That was when I lost all my hope of returning home.
