The Tombstone

Day

Three months later....

  She sat in her room, but this time in her chair that was across by the window. Over the months, her mind continued to wonder about that night, like on a continues loop. Over and over again. But each time it didn't seem to bore her. She would think on end of that night, and the time seemed to fly faster, quicker. Hours turned to days, the days to weeks, and the weeks to months until she was where she was now. She curled her legs up towards her chest as she remained staring down, and wondered about that night.
That girl in the back.
She only saw her for a split second before he hurled her in the car with the other. The girl didn't seem to move or flinch as the door opened, giving Steph the impression that she was either unconscious, or, maybe, dead. But she didn't like to think of that. That theory later made sense as to why he was digging.
He was burying her.
But at the same time, that didn't make sense, since it was in the graveyard; next to tombstones that sat miles apart from each other.
That can't be right. She was probably unconscious. Like I was the day he took me. He probably drugged her before he put her into the van so she wouldn't put up a fight. But then why didn't he drug me before he took me outside? Maybe he used all of that drug up on that girl? Maybe that girl was stronger than me and he knew it and thought I wouldn't put up much of a fight?
But then where did she go after? I don't think she was in the van with me as I woke up later. Maybe he has another place he hides the girls? Maybe he sold her. I don't want to think about that, but, that way seems a bit more—only by the tiniest amount—better than the other theory; that she was dead. That he killed her and was burying her.
But I must have been hallucinating. I mean, nobody buries someone in a cemetery. I mean, people are buried there, but after funerals and farewells. After the person has died. And that dead person gets a tombstone, a grave. Nobody buries someone in the cemetery with no marking. If he was going to kill someone, and bury them, wouldn't he have just found an empty field or bury them in an abandon area or forest? He wouldn't bury a girl he took, and killed in the cemetery, would he? That's just not normal. No. I must have just dreamt that. I hit my head pretty hard, I must have just imagined it. It must have been a hallucination, right? 
Her head was on over load; trying to come up with any possibility; no matter how crazy. She would take a crazy idea over the harsh truth which could be her reality.

  He hadn't told her any more about that night; giving her no hints. All he would say was that she would understand soon. But what did that mean? She didn't know, which killed her inside. When would soon come? Sooner that she thought.

  It was the afternoon by then, meaning he had already brought her a meal that morning. He had recently upgraded her to two meals a day, instead of the usual one. But the one she had usually was a wide selection. She often saved some of that meal throughout the day, scavenging it for later. But she no longer had to do that. She also noticed she had lost weight since she was there, which was almost guaranteed. But she did not look sickly skinny; she knew this by the mirror he had given her a little while back. When he first brought it in, she was amazed, happy. A plan ran through her head, a plan that consisted of breaking the glass mirror, and stabbing a shard right through him as he entered the room next; but that plan was distinguished as she ran her fingers down the sides and found out it was only plastic.
Ugh, no!

  Her drawers in the dresser that sat in the room were piled now with sweat pants and sweaters, from him bringing some in every week. That gesture leaving an odd thought in her mind.
Why was he bringing me so much clothes? It's not like I'm growing anymore. Why are there so many? Oh no, what is he planning? Is he planning on keeping me? Keeping me here forever with him? Never letting me out? Is this going to be my life now? For the rest of my life? Will I ever see another human being other than him? What about my family? What are they thinking right now? What about my mum? How is she? Does she think I'm dead? Did my scent lead back to the graveyard too?
And then, almost automatically after that thought, a click set in, and went off as well. Like a puzzle was forming, or a piece of a puzzle was put into place. She had pieces still left, but now, only one fit into place.
The girls scents all lead back to Cindy's grave. Her grave. In the cemetery. The one he was digging in. That night. No. No! That can't be right. No. I won't believe that! That's crazy! No! Stop thinking about it Steph. That is stupid. That is sick. Don't think about that. Your imagination is running loose. Stop.
And after that, the thought went away, like it never came up. Nothing came of it again.