KAYLA:
Oh god oh god oh god. I am in so much trouble, I thought to myself wildly, cringing as I heard lecherous calls calling out to me.
I wrapped my hoodie around myself tighter, my fingers wrapped around the pepper spray that was in my pocket. I had just into another dark, lonely alley, and truth be told, I was very, very lost. And terrified. And hungry.
Cal had boarded the plane! I thought for the umpteenth time wildly. But then... the ringing tone...?
Someone must have stolen it, I realized suddenly, my mouth getting dry. And here I was, roaming the exact same streets that he was robbed on. Way past midnight, no less.
Suddenly, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, casting the alley into a dim light. Immediately, I tensed up. I had been relying on the darkness to slip into the shadows, hoping that no one would notice me... but now, here I was, in full sight, for anyone to see.
As if on cue, I heard wolf whistles behind me.
"Hey, baby! Where do you think you're going, honey?"
My heart suddenly accelerating, I quickened my pace.
"Don't run, sugar!" Another voice. My blood turned cold. So there wasn't just one of them.
"Come here!"
"Come to daddy!"
More wolf whistles. And more voices. I broke into a run, and behind me, the group of men laughed. They were still following me! My cold fingers brushed against the cool metal of my pepper spray. But what good was it? There were more than 3 of them, I was easily outnumbered!
Cal! Oh, Cal, wherever you are, hurry! I thought panickly, my feet not stopping.
I had reached a crossroad. I cursed wildly. Which one should I pick? Behind me, the raucous laughter was getting closer. Realizing that I didn't have time to think, I quickly decided on taking the right turn.
"There she is!"
I froze as two men emerged from the shadows, clearly drunk. My blood cold, I quickly turned back and ran straight ahead. Behind me, the laughter had grown exponentially. My breaths were already ragged but I pushed myself, adrenaline pumping me as I imagined outstretched hands grabbing my jacket.
Suddenly, I scooted to a halt. I was facing a dead wall.
No no no no!
Half sobbing, I pounded on the wall, part of me believing that if I was strong enough, the wall would fall. It didn't budge, though. I turned around, terrified, as the moon disappeared again. Despite the darkness, I could hear the thudding footsteps of the men, turning the corner.
I was being cornered!
Instinctively, I backed from the middle of the street, flattening my back on the alley walls. Wishing that I was anywhere but here. My fingers fumbled along the rough peeling paint, feeling for anything that could be used as a weapon.
"Here, Kitty kitty kitty!"
My breath caught. The men were getting nearer! Any second now, and I'll be completely trapped!
Trying to hold my sobs in, I knelt, sucking my stomach in, trying my hardest to be part of the wall. I nervously inched my way forward, taking cover behind a large, stinky dustbin. The shadow casted by the bin provided a temporary cover, but I knew it was only for a short time. My lips quivered, and I tried not to think about what they would do to me if they found me.
"We're getting closer honey..."
I bit my lip, my fingers still fumbling desperately along the wall. Cal! Where are you, Cal?!
"Hey, where did she go?"
I held my breath, breathing in through my mouth. Tears were falling down my cheeks, blurring my vision. I pressed myself even further against the wall. Pushing my legs that were curled up beneath me as far behind as I could.
With a start, I realized that my shoes were kicking thin air. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I turned quickly and realized that behind me, a small window peeked out. The kind of cellar-windows, where the room was under-ground-ish.
I could escape through it, I thought suddenly, my heart pounding. FIngers trembling, I tried to pull the window up higher so I could slide through it. The hinges were rusty, and in my haste, I sliced the skin of my finger on the sharp corners.
"You can hide, but you can't run, girlie!"
The men laughed raucously. I could here them cat calling again, kicking the bins, looking for me. I didn't have time, I realized suddenly. I had to go through it now! Feet first, I squeezed into the small window, my jeans catching on the window sill and ripping.
The moment I got my shoulders past the window, my phone emitted a shriek, slicing through the night.
The men stiffened suddenly, trying to figure out the source of the sound. I could hear excited yelps as they argued amongst themselves as to where I was. Clasping my hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs, I pulled my entire body in, my feet dangling in mid air. Outside, the men were still kicking bins, getting closer and closer. I could feel my grip slacken, my palms getting sweaty, and finally, I let go off the window sill, falling into darkness.
---
For a while, I didn't move, but sat there curled up, my head bowed. Crying my heart out. The men were still searching, convinced that I was still there, but the excitement had died out some. I just hoped beyond hope that they overlooked the window that I escaped through.
I tasted the metallc taste of blood, but for once, I didn't spit it out. The gnashes and cuts on my arms were probably bleeding, but that wasn't why I was crying. I was crying because of how I felt- in less than 6 hours, I had experienced fear, desperateness, tiredness, hunger. I had no idea where I was, I had no idea how my family would find me...
At the thought of them, my heart clenched tightly, and I started bawling again. My parents' faces, stricken with worry. Ivan and Sean... how would Ivan feel, knowing that I disobeyed him? And Emma? The poor baby must be terrified!
And Cal!
I whimpered.
I'm sorry, I cried. I wanna go back home! Please, somebody, anybody, take me home!
"Who's there?"
My breath caught. I had not studied my surroundings yet, but, looking up, I could see a stream of light coming from the stairs. Dayem!
Immediately, I got on my knees and searched wildly for a place to hide. My eyes caught sight of a cupboard, its door ajar. Without pausing to think, I squeezed myself into it, making sure I didn't make any noise.
"Hello?"
The voice came closer. My heart pounded loudly and I prayed that the person wouldn't hear me. The flash of light passed over my cupboard, and I held my breath. The light blinded my eyes, and I couldn't make out the face of the person who was holding the flashlight. Yet, somehow, I got a feeling that it belonged to a young adult, or maybe even a teenager- he didn't have that gravelly-sounding voice that older people usually had.
The guy stood still, his flashlight still roaming the room.
"Darn rats!" he finally muttered, as he turned off the flash light. Breathing through my mouth, I sat frozen to my spot until his footsteps became fainter and fainter, and soon, I heard the slamming of the door.
Slowly, I exhaled my breath, my head light and woozy. My feet stumbling a little, I unfolded my legs from the wardrobe and stepped out into the room.
The room was pitch black, and I heard the scurrying of something moving across the floor, but that was the least of my worries right now. Immediately, I removed my phone from my pocket, and before doing anything, I silenced it. I couldn't afford to be caught now!
I had 35 missed calls. All from Cal. My trembling fingers hit redial, and I waited impatiently for the call to get connected.
It didn't.
Glancing at my phone, my heart fell when I realized that there wasn't any reception in the basement, or wherever it is I was.
What was I going to do now?
Trying not to panic, I took a deep breath. I'll escape in the morning, I thought to myself suddenly. I'll wait until everything's bright and well-lit, and then I'll climb out the way I came in and I'll find reception and I'll call Cal and I'll wait for him to get me. Yeah, that was what I would do, I chanted to myself over and over again, trying to calm my nerves. It was a solid plan, after all, since I doubted that the guy who owned this place would be coming down anytime soon. The place smelt musty, and the fact that he thought he had rats here must definitely mean that he hardly ever comes in here, right?
So... I just had to survive one night here, I told myself, my heart beat already slowing down. That's not so bad! At least I had a roof over my head here!
But... where exactly was here?
I started my 'Torch' app, and my iPhone screen immediately began to glow, casting a dim light around my surroundings. Slowly, I turned around, taking everything in. I had been right; the place did look abandoned. Cobwebs hung across the ceilings, threatening to fall anytime. The place looked like it was a store for unwanted items, with boxes piled haphazardly on top of each other. Opposite the wardrobe where I had hid, a desk and chair stood, the surface of the desk covered with papers and books. My stomach growled, as I glanced around the room for something that looked edible.
Nothing, if you don't count the mice that were probably hiding in all those boxes. I shivered, wishing that I had packed more food. The few packets of biscuits that I had brought along had been devoured some hours ago, and now, I was without supplies.
Sighing, I walked over to the chair, making sure that I didn't make any noise pulling it out. I brought my knees to my chest and curled up, my mind far away. Thinking about my family. Cal. Emma must have told them where I was by now. I wondered whether they were searching for me, and if they were, I wondered how they were doing it. They certainly didn't know where I was now, seeing as how I couldn't get any connection down here.
i ran my fingers through my hair. No, I won't let myself think of that. I'll do that tomorrow. Right now, I've got to get some sleep, I decided.
I turned to face the table, propping my head on my hands, trying to will sleep to come. It didn't though, and every so often, my eyes sprang up on their own accord. After a few minutes, I sat up straighter, annoyed with myself. I turned my iPhone on and flashed it randomly on the table. Suddenly, though, my eyes caught a newpaper clipping that was buried under all the books and papers.
I took it out carefully. The clipping was yellow and aged, and the paper felt brittle under my fingers. I held the paper carefully with one hand, the other hand holding my iPhone up so that I could read the clipping.
3-Year-Old Girl Missing, Feared Kidnapped.
Underneath the bold headlines, a little girl with pigtails smiled back at me.
I frowned. Why did this person keep newspaper clippings of a kidnapped girl?
I read on.
Laura Kanes, 3, is feared to be kidnapped, the authorities said yesterday. The Massachusetts state police claimed that although several calls have been received over the alleged sightings of the black-haired toddler...
Laura Kanes. Laura Kanes. Where have I heard that name before?
I made my way through the stack of papers. There were all newspaper cuttings. Whoever this guy was, he had certainly followed the Kanes kidnapping closely, I thought to myself. Strange, though, for someone to be so... devoted to it. But perhaps he was the father of the girl or something, I tried to rationalize. The articles were dated 7 years ago, and, as I dug in further, the previously quarter-page clippings grew into full-paged articles. The clippings were from various newspapers, and spanned over a few months.
I loosened my shoulders, stiff from all the hunching. What was up with this guy? I said to myself, leaning back on the chair. My head still confused, I unconsciously grabbed a book that was lying on top of all the papers.
I flipped it open, and almost fell of my chair in shock. It wasn't a diary, as I had thought it was, but rather... a sort of sketch book. The owner of the book had drawn thick, repeated lines on almost every page, pressing so hard that some of the pages were torn. Although it looked harmless enough, the hair on the nape of my neck stood up suddenly; there was just something decidedly creepy about the sketches.
I turned the pages gingerly, and with every turn of the page, the lines seemed to get thicker, darker. Sometimes, I thought I caught a glimpse of stick figures under all that lines, but I couldn't be too sure.
My fingers trembling, I shut the book. There was something wrong about all this, I realized, my mouth dry. I didn't know what it was, but there was something creepy.
Throwing the offensive book far away, my eyes fell upon another leather-bound book. The book was thinner than the previous one, although, from the side, I could see that its pages were curled up, as if it had been wet before. Unable to stop myself, I gingerly opened the book.
A.C. 2009.
Three years ago. A.C.?
I fingered the front page, wondering whether I should flip it. A part of me wanted to close the book and curl up in the closet, hoping day would come soon, but another part of me- the curious, morbid part- wanted to check the book out. So I compromised by heading towards the closet, securing myself inside it carefully, and opening the book.
I almost let out a blood curling scream.
Instead of dark pencil lines, this A.C person had used a dark crimson liquid to sketch more disturbing drawings. This time, it was pictures of skulls, frozen in horror. Non-ending circles. Fingerprints. His initials, A.C, over and over and over again.
My hands trembling, I dropped the book in fright, and it turned to the last page.
I HATE YOU. In the same dark red liquid, the letters even thicker than the pencil lines before. Closing my eyes, I kicked the book away from me, my heart thudding wildly again.
Something was wrong. Something was definitely not right about this A.C guy, whoever he was. My stomach heaved as I suddenly realized what the dark-crimson liquid was.
It was blood.
I had a sudden mental image of a guy, knife in his hands, slicing his wrists just deep enough for the blood to trickle down. Collecting his blood in a palette, then using it to draw.
I stuffed my fists into my mouth, allowing silent tears to flow down my cheeks. What kind of sicko person's house was I spending the night in?
Sicko.
Mad.
Crazy.
Hurting himself.
No!
Aiden Cafferty. A.C.
I found him.
I have to get out of here! I realized suddenly, my feet already scrambling frantically. Anywhere but here. I'd rather be raped than stay here.
My stomach still heaving violently, I carried the chair and silently placed it under the window. Pulling myself up as fast as I could, I realized that I had left my bag in there. With Cal's credit card and my wallet in it.
I didn't go back for it, though. Clutching my iPhone tightly to my hand, I pounded down the alley, tears streaming down my face and sobs strangling my throat, as my brain repeated my finding over and over again:
I had found Cal's brother. I had found Evan Aiden Cafferty.