Present day...
Day break finally arose in the sky that morning, the brightness from glows of sun starting to rise over the trees in the distance, and the warmness from the day began. I had eventually found my way back to the woods, the ones surrounding the two way highway I had ran onto that night, as I walked on the left side of the road. Already hearing a few sirens from police cars that morning—I assumed searching for me—I had ducked into the forest briefly to my side, and waited for them to pass. Are they onto me? Do they know, or at least have a hunch that I would go into the forest? But how would they know that? I told them the bunker was located near a forest, there are a lot of forests around. They wouldn't think I'm going back to the bunker, right? Or are they onto me? Do they know more than I think? Did Johnny and my family tell them about the other boy I was locked up with? Do they think I have gone back looking for him? Are they really that smart that they know exactly what I'm doing? I really hope not. If they do they won't let me look for him anymore. If they find me they are going to drag me back home while they search for Noah. No. I have to be there. It's just us now. This is between Noah and I. We have to fight this. We have to escape together, the both of us. No one else helping. Just us.
Digging into my blue bag, I pulled out one of the many granola bars I had stuffed in my bag, munching down as my stomach growled viciously. I was thankful for bringing a bunch of snacks. However my body was still trained to become full quickly, as it remained the same from the bunker. That very reason was how Noah and I didn't rush to eat all our food, saving it throughout the day and rationalizing it. And through that process and routine, we didn't become hungry as fast, causing for our drastic weight loss. But it was a good system back then, for we didn't know the next time he would bring us food.
Finishing the bar up as I placed the wrapper back in my bag, I stepped along the side of the road with my hood still up, my hands shoving on my pockets. It wasn't cold out today, more soothing and pleasant feeling with the warmth surrounding me and the sun blazing down gently. The woods however—to my left—gave off this type of cooling breeze, drifting by me slight as I walked by. I had no idea how far I was going to walk until I would enter the forest, not too sure how far the bunker was from here. I know I only ran through that forest a bit until I hit the road, so the woods can't be that thick between here and there. However it wasn't just how long the woods went to lead to the basement, it was trying to figure out when to start passing through them. Looking for some type of sign where the car had stopped the other day for me, but so far there was nothing in sight. That was just great.
Am I doing the wrong thing? Is this bad? Should I just turn around and get the police to help me?
No! What are you talking about the police can't help you! It's only up to you! So stop doubting yourself! You are doing the right thing now. You should have done this days ago but you're doing it now so that's all that matters. You are going to find Noah and you are going to break him free. And then you guys can go back into the city together, and finally tell the whole truth about Michael.
But I don't want to tell them truth. I don't want everyone to know what happened. And I know Noah is going to feel the same way too. But what else can we do? They have to find him and lock him up. He has to be locked up for the rest of his life. I want him to suffer and die in prison, in a tiny area in the dark. Like we had, his captives almost died numerous times in his hands. I want the same thing to happen to him. I want him to be tortured and to feel that slight panic that he might get killed. That he might die in prison. I want other criminals in jail to beat him up and assault him, the same way he had to us for all those years. I want the other inmates to be sickened with him just as much as I am. I want them to be so disgusted by him, that they try to kill him. That they do kill him. I want him to suffer until he dies, a slow, painful, death.
But the only way that's going to happen is if you and Noah tell the cops everything. So is it worth it? Or not? Is it worth everyone knowing all the details of your abuse for all those years? Is it worth them shooting odd and pitiful stares at you? Other people calling you names after hearing what that guy did to you? Is it worth everyone knowing a man had sex with you, and other things? Knowing how dirty you are now? How gross and disgusting you are now? Is it worth all that?
I don't know.
A loud siren stopped my running on thoughts as I froze in a second, realizing another cop car was driving behind me as I peered over my shoulder, seeing the flashing red and blue lights in the corner of my eye. Shit! No! You're going to get caught! You are caught! What are you doing just standing here you moron! Run! And so I booked it to my left once again this morning, running about ten feet inside. Snapping small twigs and branches that curled under my feet as I hid behind a large tree close by, and waited patiently for the car to pass on. My nerves kicked me inside higher and higher as I was terrified the car had seen me, and would stop close to the woods where I had ran in. Please pass by. Please pass. Please pass! I bellowed in my head, watching anxiously for the car to slow down or stop. But thankfully to my luck, the police car kept its normal speed, passing by the forest completely as I exhaled a heavy breath. Yes. It's ok. Thank you god.
Stepping out behind the rough barked tree, I wandered out and headed back towards the road. At least I knew if I travelled on the highway, I wouldn't walk in circles or become lost. Although right then, I stopped in my place as I noticed a marking on the road ahead. The dark, now faded black marking looked as if a skid, and I peered at it for a few more minutes until it clicked in my head what that truly was. It was from a car, braking at a screeching stop. Like someone was trying to avoid hitting something, or someone. It was from the car a few nights ago, when that lady stopped quickly, at a fast rate to avoid hitting a kid that had just ran onto the road. Me. That's where it happened. And that's when I turned back around once more, beginning to head deeper into the forest, for I knew the bunker was closer now than ever.
I had to admit, just finding that little clue, knowing I was now heading in the right direction towards the bunker, my nervous energy really kicked into high gear now. I am walking back to the place I had been imprisoned for ten years. For most of my childhood. For most of my life. I am trying to get back to the place I had been hurt more times than I could possibly count. The place that caused me so much pain, the times I would cry myself to sleep on numerous nights. The place where my skin has been ripped apart, where my scars originated from. Inside and out. The place where my life, my childhood was stolen. But as much as all of that was true, that very place, the bunker was where I had made my most truest, trusting and unbreakable friendship in my life. That place is where I met my true family, my real brother. That place is where I met Noah, and I knew I could not just leave him behind. I couldn't just ignore him, hoping other people would find him instead of me. No. I wanted to find him, for I knew I would be doing everything I possibly could. I knew Michael more than anyone, and I knew his hiding spots, other places to go. Noah and I knew our captor more than any police officer, and if anyone could find him, we could. I could. Saying those very things in my head made me even the more scared, as I knew those things were true, but I didn't want them to be. I didn't want to face Michael again. I really didn't. I didn't want to see him again. For every time I saw him all the haunting and killing memories would flood my brain. And I wanted to keep those memories behind the gates in my head, locking them up forever. Never letting them out to fill my head again, I didn't want to think of them anymore. I wanted him, along with all the memories gone. Disappear. Vanish. Gone forever. And hopefully, when Michael would be gone from my life, the memories would follow his lead.
The day went on slowly, as I passed by tall and monstrous trees on my way on, for the place seemed completely different than a few days earlier. However I wasn't paying attention to the forest and my surroundings much a few nights ago. My heart was racing fast and my adrenaline was pumping. I only focused on getting out of the woods and finding help. Michael was chasing after me then, and I only focused on getting away from him. Although now I payed closer attention, watching and seeing certain trees, branches and the occasional small animal scrambling along. The sun disappearing behind the trees, though through small cracks in between the branches above, the sun shone down and brightened the scene, giving off a glowing light of happiness almost, like in a sequence of a dream as I stepped beyond the trees and leaves below. How far till the field? I mean, it didn't seem this far at all the other night. Perhaps that was because I was running and dashing out of here. Fleeing so fast as if I was flying off the ground.
Continuing my journey on, different thoughts and memories jumbled up in my head, like a bunch of necklaces all tangled at the bottom of a jewelry box. One thought on a certain topic, the next on another. What is my family thinking right now? What are my parents thinking of? Are they scared? Terrified? Terrified that I may never come back now? They just got their son back. The one they believed was dead for ten years. They just got him back alive. And now he's gone again. Are they upset? They must be, right? Are they out searching for me to? Have they spoken to Logan or Timmy at all? Did Logan and Tim tell the cops about me? Or did mom and dad figure out I was gone this morning? And then after they called the cops, did my friends speak up and tell them what they saw last night? Maybe they think I was taken away. Maybe they think he took me again. Maybe they think I just went for a walk last night, and he found me and took me once again. Or maybe they think I ran away. I did have a backpack with me last night. Why would I need a backpack if I was just taking a walk? So they must think I ran away. Unless they truly are onto me, and believe I am going after the other kid I was locked down here with. Maybe Johnny and my parents told the police about the other kid I let slip to them the other day, and now they are onto me. They know where I'm going now maybe. Maybe they know I'm going back to the bunker. Oh no. That means they are on their way here. Oh no!
Stop it Matthew! Just stop! Panicking about it won't help you at all. There are tons of forests and woods around here. It's going to take them forever to find you. You know exactly—almost exactly—where you're going. You will be able to find the bunker and get Noah out of there in no time. You two will head back into the city before they even start looking in the right direction. So you're fine. You have time. Stop worrying and just focus on finding that field.
I was able to calm myself quite a bit, taking long, deep breaths as the minutes turned by, and only the woods stretched out ahead. I had lost sight of the road behind myself at this point, lost in the middle of the forest now. Although I wasn't completely lost, I was pretty sure I knew where I was going. Or hoped.
The silence surrounded everything amongst, only the whistling of the gentle breeze swishing in and out of woods. The whispering calls of birds flying in between branches. The squeaks and breaks of small twigs under my feet, along with the rustling of curled up and crunched leaves as small animals would rush by. What if Noah isn't there anymore. What if he is gone. Gone forever. What if I can't find him. What then?
Or what if when I do find him—I hope I find him—Michael locks me back in the bunker? What then? Or what if he knocks us both out and takes us to a new bunker? A new bunker where we have no clue the location. For ten years I never knew where this bunker was located. I do now, but what if this new bunker is somewhere else far away. In another city? Another town? What if we are locked up there forever? But why does he want us now? We are all grown up. We are practically adults. What does he want with us still? I don't get it. Don't pedophiles only keep their captives, their victims when they are kids? And when they get too old, they get rid of them? Don't they kill them? Or let them go? I can't imagine Michael letting us go, but I can imagine him killing us. But can I really? I mean, think about it Matt. In all those years he never once threatened to kill you guys. Sure, he made it seem like he hates us by all that torture, those beatings, that abuse. But he never, not once ever said the words, "I'm going to kill you". Nothing similar to those either. He never threatened to kill us. He threatened to hurt us. But never kill. Will he ever kill us? Was he going to? Or did he just plan to keep us locked up forever? No. He couldn't have. He's not that crazy. What, he was going to keep two thirty year olds still chained and locked up in that bunker? Two full grown men? I don't think so. What is his plan? What was it?
"Matthew!"
"Hey Matt! Are you in here?"
"Matthew Lucas!"
I was jolted with a hint of fear as I dragged myself out of my thoughts, and I heard people very close by shouting and calling my name. What? What is this? What the hell is going on? Looking over behind myself, faint movements and figures began to follow far behind, a bunch of people wearing clothes made for hiking, as my heart immediately picked up it's pace again. My skin feelings clammy with nerves, as the slight realization peaked inside me. Oh no. The police have already organized a search party. That was fast. No. They are going to find me. I know they are. Why can't they just leave me alone? I just need to find my friend. It's not like I'm running away, I'm going to come back so why can't they just leave me alone?
"Hey Matt it's ok! You aren't in trouble!"
"We just want to bring you back home!"
The crowd of people searching in the forest yelled out to me, as if they knew I was in this exact location. But how did they know where I was?
The police car. He must have seen me scamper into the forest. He must have called it in after. Shit. What can't they just leave me alone?
"Matthew?!"
I didn't stand around for another moment, as I once again scampered off quickly into the woods, the same direction I was heading in as I pumped harder and harder to get away from them. Trying to keep the noise to a minimum, however that was rather hard trying to run quick as well. My heart beating more rapid, losing my breath in the process but I got going. Where am I going to go? Where do I hide? I can't hide behind trees, sooner or later they are going to be searching every area and will find me. Oh no. I'm trapped. Busted. I'm never going to get Noah back. Never going to find him. Where the hell do I go?!
And right as that thought occurred, my excitement bounced up as I came across a narrow ditch beneath the forest, with a single tree covering it perfectly. I didn't stand around to think though. Climbing down into the ditch covered with leaves and twigs, the large tree that clearly fell down in the woods covered the opening, as you could hardly tell there was a ditch at all.
"Matthew Lucas!"
And I remained absolutely still and quiet, covering my mouth with my sleeved hand in the perfect hiding spot, and waited patiently for the search party to give up.