Kidnapped

Stories to be Told

"When we got her home, my dad locked himself in the basement with her and- all I heard was screaming. For days and days she would scream and beg my dad to stop. He'd only laugh at her. One day he- he finished with her and told me to drag her body out to our dogs. He made me watch them eat her. And then told me we were going hunting the next day.

"We did that for weeks. He'd find a girl who resembled my mom and- he'd make me help. I don't know how he met Skip, but those two really hit it off. They were two sick peas in a twisted pod. Skip was the one who came up with the idea of selling them to traffickers.

"Eventually, it didn't matter what the girl looked like. If she was pretty enough, they'd take her and keep her in the basement. About a month ago, he decided that I was old enough- well, brainwashed enough to join him and Skip in the- 'fun.'" I paused. I didn't want to remember it, but it needed to come out. That girl, and all the others, deserved to have her story told, even if it was just by me. "He made me watch. It was worse than anything I'd ever seen." A sob racked my body as her horrified face was recalled to my minds eye. Her red hair was slick with sweat and blood, and she was completely helpless. Her face was pinched in agony and the rest of her body was clenched. "If I tried to close my eyes, he would hit me with whatever tool he was using on her and tell me her blood was on my hands just as much as it was on his. It went on for hours. He never got bored! When he was tired, he'd trade with Skip until she broke. He only stopped when they didn't care anymore." Everything was blurry except for my memories. The grey room blended together into one huge mass. I grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged to remind myself that I wasn't back in the basement.

"Do you know what it's like?" I whispered. "To watch someone break? You can see it in their eyes. They still cry, and they still scream, but it's like they're just going through the motions."

"How-" Spick cleared his throat. "How many girls did you take?"

"I don't know." Hundreds of girls' terrified faces flashed across my eyes. I couldn't name one. "There were too many of them. Sometimes he would take more than just one at a time." I scoffed through my tears. "He thought it was funny to listen to them try to give each other strength.

"I know I'm his son, but please don't send me back to him. I can't-." Their faces turned into screams inside my head. I could feel their fear all over again. Something inside of me snapped this time.

I bawled like a baby and couldn't stop.

*****

I tried not to cry when I recounted my kidnapping to Officer Reinhart, but it was impossible. I was a complete mess by the time I finished. Reinhart was gentle and his voice grounded me when I retold the events that happened.

"You're lucky to be here." Reinhart squeezed my hand gently and stood. "I have to go check up on a few things and I'll be right back. Are you okay to stay in here alone? Or would you like me to send someone in to wait with you?"

"I'll be fine." I smiled weakly. "When can I see my dad?"

"That's one of the things I'm looking in to." He smiled softly. "You just sit tight, sweetheart. I'll be back before you know it."

And he was gone.

Relief finally washed over me. The worst of it was over. I could go home! Another bout of sobs racked my body, but it was okay this time. Soon I'd be safe and sound in my dad's arms.

Oh, I missed him.

Ten minutes passed and Reinhart came back into the room. He held the door open and motioned for me to follow him out.

"Your dad will be here tomorrow, okay?" He put a hand on my shoulder and lead me over to what I assumed was his desk. "It's quite the drive from your hometown." He picked up a set of keys and took me to the back of the station. A hallway stretched out in front of us. It was lined with five doors on each side, each of them were fitted with two locks; a deadbolt and a latch. He lead me past two doors, each of them were occupied by at least four people. Two out of the eight looked drunk, and the others just looked mean. We stopped at the third door and Reinhart opened it for me. A bed covered in a single white sheet was bolted to the wall. A lump at the top suggested something of a pillow. A silver toilet seat was stationed on the opposite wall with a matching sink right next to it. Aside from those two appliances, the room was empty and grey. The floor and walls were concrete and stained with who knows what.

"This one was just cleaned." He said. He pushed the door open enough for me to slip past him. "You're going to stay here for the night. I'll come in and check on you every so often so you won't be alone."

"Can Andrew stay with me?" The question came out before I could think about what I was asking. "I- I don't want to be alone in here when I wake up in the morning. Do you think he could stay in here with me?"

Reinhart scrunched up his face and sighed. He thought for a moment.

"I'll see what I can arrange." He said. "Andrew is still giving his statement so he'll be a minute anyway. Just sit tight and I'll be back in a flash."

Reinhart's 'flash' ended up being twenty minutes. I felt uncomfortable in the dimly lit holding cell. I didn't want to touch anything because it all looked- dirty. Whoever cleaned this cell didn't do a very good job. At least, that's what it felt like. The sheet on the bed felt fresh enough so I sat on it without too much unease. It felt like it was made of a very stiff foam. A quick inspection revealed that it was in fact a green, upholstered piece of foam. At least it was easier to clean and didn't have a mattress to catch all of the germs and filth from actual arrestee's.

When the door opened again, Reinhart ushered Andrew inside. My heart leaped at the sight of him, but immediately sank when he met my eyes. His eyes were puffy and red, like he'd been crying.

"Andrew," I hugged him and he wrapped his arms around me. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." His breath was hot against my neck. "I'm okay now."