The next thing Kelly was aware of was the silence. Silence as if she was floating in endless space, nothing around her, and no escape. She fidgeted, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. She blinked many times, trying to see something, but being unable to through the darkness as unwelcoming as a shark's, cold stare, seconds before death.
When she realized she was in fact, awake, and just somewhere dark and different, Kelly began searching for something to show her where she was. As she moved to sit up, she realized she was freezing cold, the reason being that she had been stripped to just her underwear.
Kelly was scared.
All she wanted was to get home to her family. She longed for the warm hugs of her brother, the kindness of her sister, and the words of her mother as she told her it would be all right. None of this was near, however, and Kelly knew that. Something inside her knew that whatever liquid she had drunk, had been drugged and she was now alone, perhaps left for dead. Her own thoughts scared her.
After what seemed like hours, a blinding light shone about twenty feet in front of where Kelly sat, hugging her knees tightly to her chest in an attempt to stay warm. The sudden light temporarily blinded Kelly and she was unable to see a thing.
"Don't be scared," she heard a voice say. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a figure coming toward her through what now looked like a basement. Frantic to find something to defend herself, Kelly looked around, her eyes darting from object to object until her gaze finally fell on the figure of a girl who couldn't have been much older than herself.
As she stared in confusion, Kelly realized the girl wasn't moving—not even to breathe. A new wave of fear struck her as she sat, the stranger now even closer, but advancing slowly.
"Wh-where am I?" Kelly croaked, not realizing her throat was so dry until she tried to speak.
"You're in my basement. My name is Paul. Your father paid me to find you and bring you to him. However, I think I could, now that I see you, get more than what your father is offering me if I were to bring you to a very special place."
"What are you talking about?" Kelly had so many questions already.
"Shh, save your voice, pretty girl. Would you like to come upstairs and take a shower? Maybe get something to eat?"
Kelly was uncertain, but nodded, wanting desperately to get out of that basement and away from the dead girl beside her.
Paul saw Kelly staring at the body and helped her stand, "Ah, I see you've noticed my last house guest. Alas, Samantha didn't understand the meaning of obedience. She tried to call the police, and I can't have that. If I want to keep my house and my family fed, I have to stay out of jail. You understand that, don't you, Kelly?"
Kelly was too horrified to answer. Paul continued to talk to her about how obedient she must be and how well behaved she had been so far, but Kelly didn't listen. She took in all her surroundings with wonder and awe. She was in a beautiful house: many paintings hung on the walls and chandeliers in almost every room. Frantically, she searched for an open window, but found none. There was no way of knowing where she was. That thought scared her most of all.
"This is where you'll be sleeping until the auction," Kelly heard Paul say.
"Auction?"
"Yes, weren't you listening, child? The auction is on Saturday evening. I must have you well fed, well dressed, and most importantly: well behaved by then. Can you imagine how much people will pay for a thirteen year old, obedient, virgin who has a very gifted body, Kelly? Let's just say enough to buy my wife that new necklace she was admiring in the shops the other day.
"Now," Paul continued, sitting Kelly down on the bed, "You go ahead and take a shower, there will be clothes laying out for you when you get out. Just ring this bell when you're all dressed and my wife will bring you some dinner, then you must rest. We have a long week ahead if I'm going to get you well educated and prepared by Saturday."
Kelly sat, watching as Paul left the room. Her eyes closed in horror when she heard a 'click' come from the door, followed by footsteps down the hall and a casual whistle that died down as Paul walked away.
She looked around the room, taking in the soft bed, the carpeted floor, and finally, noticing the lack of windows, feeling tears sting her eyes at that discovery. Kelly was trapped, and there was nothing she could do about it.
After getting into the bathtub for a shower, she began to cry. The realization that she would never be free again and probably die before long made Kelly panic and she sat, crying and screaming in agony, in the bathtub, water flowing over her skin and dripping down in beads along with her tears.
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"You slept for a very long time," a new voice said to her, "I brought you another meal before realizing you hadn't touched this one."
Kelly sat up, realizing she had let herself fall asleep in the big, soft bed the night before. She felt a tickle on her face and realized tears were still dripping down it. She quickly dried them and cleared her throat to speak, "Who are you?"
"I'm Paul's wife, my dear. My name is Cynthia. I'm here to dress and feed you. Paul will teach you what you need to know, but I'm the looks department. You really should eat, my dear, you'll need your strength."
Kelly took the bowl that was being handed to her, picking up a spoonful of blueberry oatmeal and letting it slip off the spoon back into the bowl.
"Please, dear, eat. You'll soon starve to death if you keep this up."
Kelly convinced herself after a few seconds of thought that she was worth more to these people alive than dead, so she ate. After the oatmeal was gone, she drank a glass of orange juice before speaking again.
"Why am I here? Why are you doing this?"
"Didn't Paul tell you? Your father was looking for you. Seems he just got out of prison and wanted to get custody of you, but knew the courts would never grant it, so he came to my husband. He's a freelancer in this line of work. Getting very good at the kidnapping, he is. He paid off that boy to carry you out the bathroom window at the party you were at."
"And you help him?" Kelly asked in horror.
"I'm special, you see," Cynthia replied, "I was one of Paul's 'special circumstances.' He liked me. Fell in love, he says. As he was driving me to the drop-off, he took a wrong turn and brought me to a court house. We were married that night and the man he kidnapped me for couldn't do anything about it because it was legal and binding. I've learned to love it, and him. If you can't beat them, join them. That was one of my first lessons here."
Kelly was horrified. She was left speechless as Cynthia cleaned up her breakfast dishes and left the room, the same 'click' following her exit as Paul's the day before. Again, she was left alone.
I just want to go home. Why did I ever leave? I want to die! If I died, I wouldn't have to go to this 'auction' on Saturday, I could escape all of this. God, I'm so scared—
Kelly didn't notice the tears on her face until Paul pointed them out after hastily entering the room not long after Cynthia left, "Don't cry, my dear, it will all be okay. I promise you, you will be happy soon. Now, I need to ask you something. Are you going to run away if I let you out of here, or am I going to need to use these?"
Kelly saw him hold up a pair of handcuffs and drew in a sharp breath.
"Well?" Paul repeated himself.
Kelly shook her head.
"Okay," Paul said, sitting down on the end of the bed, "Now, sweetheart, I don't know if you mean no you won't run, or no, you will run. The first rule is to use your words. Can you do that for me?"
Kelly hesitantly nodded.
"Uh, uh, uh," Paul scolded, "Use your words."
"Yes—I mean, n-no, you don't need the cuffs..." Kelly paused, "I won't run."
Paul smiled, resting his hand on her leg, "Good girl. Follow me to the classroom, then."
Kelly stood, following Paul out the door. Once in the hallway, she began scanning the walls for doors and windows. She made mental notes of each and hoped she could find her way out if she decided to run.
She found out the next day what happens when people try to run away from Paul.
She lay on the cold basement floor for uncountable hours, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. All she did was gag at the smell of Samantha who lay not ten feet away, her body slowly decaying.
How could I have been so stupid?! He told me what would happen if I ran—I just want to get out of here! I want to go home! I hate it here! It's all dad's fault. If he hadn't cheated and been sent to jail—but why does that make him want me? What did I ever do? Mom said he was protective, but this is ridiculous.
If I ever get out of here, I'm going to move to Italy or Australia or somewhere else, very far away from here. I never want to see Tyler's house again, or that street, or the yard where I stood when I watched Tyler—I know it's not his fault, but it happened on his watch. If he had cared for me even in the slightest, he never would have let this happen to me. I hate him!
Tears of anger and frustration dripped down Kelly's cheeks as she sat with nothing to do but fight with herself, mentally.
Finally, after a full day in the basement as punishment, the door opened and Cynthia's figure stood at the top, silhouetted against the light.
"Paul wanted to keep you down here overnight, but I said you'd need your rest if you were going to learn anything tomorrow. You only have three more days to learn everything before the auction. It was a mistake to waste a whole day, but you must learn the most important rule: be obedient. Do you think you can do that from now on?"
Kelly nodded, then remembered Paul's most stressed rule to use her words and said, "Yes. I can. Please, get me out of here."
Cynthia held her hand out and Kelly scampered up the stairs and into the fresh air of the first floor of the house. Cynthia hand-cuffed her to her own wrist and led Kelly back to her room where she fed her and left her to sleep, locking the door behind her.
Kelly was so grateful to be out of the basement and be breathing fresher air again that she willingly ate and slept. What she didn't realize, was what Paul was doing to her mind. Manipulating it so gratefulness came from being released from a terrible punishment instead of relishing in her sorrow for being kidnapped and her hatred for Paul having done it.
The first step, was completed.r