Bruised and Broken

Taken

It all started when my dad was driving me home from gymnastics practice. It gets done at 8:30 at night, and it’s still a half hour drive to my where I live. There surprisingly aren’t many cars on the road tonight, the occasional mini-van or huge truck going past. It’s just a normal ride home, we don’t really talk, and I’m still sweating a bit from practice.

Suddenly, I drop my phone, and reach down to pick it up. I hear our cars horn blaring, and I look up. I barely see the car before we’re rolling down the hill at the side of the road. The crunching sound from the car fills my ears, and the window beside me breaks into millions of pieces, cutting up the side of my face.

When the car finally stops rolling, I press my hands to my ears, trying to make them stop ringing. I look down at myself to asses the damage. There’s a piece of glass in my thigh, and I take it out painfully, leaving a continuous flow of blood in it’s place. I try moving my arms and legs, and decide that nothing’s broken. Then I realize my dad hasn’t said anything, looking up, I see that he’s unconscious, his head bleeding badly on one side.

“Daddy?” I manage to choke out. Reaching over, I check his pulse, relieved to know he’s still alive. I take out some napkins that were stuffed in the compartment in front of me and press them to his face. Wincing a bit at the feel of warm blood seeping through the napkins, I look away. Only then do I see my phone laying on the floor again. I unbuckle my seat belt, then snatch it up, still holding the bloody napkins. I press the button to light up the screen, and click on the emergency call button.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A voice says on the other end.

“I was just in a car accident, and my dad’s unconscious, I don't know what to do, help me, please!” I say quickly.

“Okay, sweetie, just stay on the line. Could you take me through what exactly happened?” The lady on the other end asks me.

“We were driving home, and I had dropped my phone, and then we were rolling...” I trail off when I finally see the car that had hit us. A man had gotten out and was now walking towards my car.

“He’s coming.”

“Who is, sweetie?”

“The guy who hit us. He’s coming this way.” I quickly tell her the road I’m on when she asks. Then I try to open the door, but it’s jammed, so I take the sleeve of my sweatshirt and wipe off the glass from the window, before starting to climb out. On the way I drop my phone on the ground outside, letting me use my hands more easily. I hear the lady on the other end talking, but can’t quite make out what she’s saying. My hand ends up coming down on a piece of glass I missed, causing me to pull it back in surprise and tumble out of the window.

I land on my back, knocking the air out of me. Sitting up slowly, my body aching everytime I move slightly, I start looking around for my phone again, but all I see are feet covered in big black boots. I look up, to see a man who towers above me, even when I manage to stand up. I’m short, you could say, it’s good for gymnastics, but this guy was huge. He was definitely taller than my dad, who is 6’2”, making this guy at least a foot taller than me. He has a scar leading from the tip of his left eyebrow to his ear. Looking menacing, I work up the bravery to start talking, having to remind myself that I need to help my dad.

“Can you please help my dad? He’s unconscious in the front seat. Please?” He doesn't say anything, though, doesn't even apologize. All he does is grin creepily at me. Then before I can register what’s happening, he has picked me up and is carrying me to his car. Squirming around, trying to free myself from his grip, I feel pain in my legs and side. So I start yelling. “Hey! What are you doing? Put me down! We need to help my dad! Daddy!” I start crying, pounding on the nearest body with my fists. “Daddy!”

Looking behind me I see we’ve almost made it to the truck, I let out a sob, and manage to call out one more time, “Daddy I’m sorry!” before they throw me in the front seat with them. Scarface has grabbed my hands and put them behind my back, starting to tie them together. I tense up my muscles the best I can, knowing it will make it easier to slip out of when he’s done tying them. “Why are you doing this? What’s happening?” I start asking, but that just makes him gag me. Trying to push the gag out of my mouth with my tongue, I don’t really notice it when he ties my hands to the door.

I feel another tear slide down my cheek, and get frustrated when I can’t move my hands to wipe it. Leaning my head down to wipe it on my shoulder instead, I notice my leg. The spot that had been cut with the glass is bleeding more than it was before, and I have nothing to stop it with. I lean back against the door and groan, kicking my good leg at Scarface, who has now gotten into the driver’s seat and started driving down the road.

He grabs my foot, and for the first time I hear him talk. “Do you want me to kill you right now?” His eyes boring into mine. I shrink back, shaking my head and whimpering. He throws my foot to the ground, causing me to twist, and my shoulder to stretch farther than it should.

I’m strong, and I’ve been hurt many times, both due to gymnastics, but this is different. He’s purposely hurting me. I’ve never been in a physical fight, in fact I’ve never actually seen one other than on tv, I’ve never hurt anyone purposely, and no one’s ever done that to me. I live in a nice town, it’s not small, I don’t know everyone in town, but it’s not too big of a town either. I’m sure there has been fights in my town, I know there has, I’ve heard about them, but I just don’t hang out with those people. Staying in the nice group of people just worked for me. This is all new, I know I have muscle and I can run pretty fast, being in gymnastics nearly all your life does that to you, but I’ve never had the thought that I would have to use my strength to get away from someone.

I sit here now, squirming until my shoulder is more comfortable. As comfortable as it can be stuck behind my back. Staring out the front window, all I can think about is how I haven’t seen one ambulance or police car.