At the age 12 I was kidnapped, but I wasn't his only victim.
The last thing I did before I was kidnapped I told my best friend Claire that I hated her because I was hanging with rob the hottest guy at school. He sweet and he flirted with me. He was going to ask me out when Claire comes out of nowhere and kiss him. I was crushed I didn't want Brian to see me crying. I was walking home. There was a lady who dropped her bag. I helped her gather her things when someone grabbed me from be hide and I was taken.
The guy who took me was named John or as he like me to call him dad. His wife name Joy but daddy want me to call her mom or mommy. They had a son named Mark.
John took me for sex. It was horrible. If I didn't be quite or stop crying he would beat me or bound me. He put me in the attic. Over time he would bring friends over for sex. I felt cold to the core. Joy pretended to be my mom; she would buy me clothes, brush my hair and tell me stories. She made me miss home even more.
The only reason that I haven't killed myself is Mark. Mark is Joy's and John son. He is two and half years older than me. I like his company. He tells me stories about his day. He would also my teacher. He was cute too. He was nice to me, probably because he felt sorry for me.
He made money off of me. He was rebuilding the house and I was moved into a room next to Mark.
Six months before I turned fourteen John got me a roommate her names was Alice. She was freaked, she was yelling.
"Shut up. You're going to get me in trouble." I told her. John told me that she is my responsibility and if she does something wrong I'll regret it.
"Don't make him come in here." I told her my story. She cried. "Please don't let them do that to me."
"I'm sorry. I can't."
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