0 comments/ 3116 views/ 0 favorites Fighting for Survival By: SexyBrunette000 Disclaimer: This story is a complete work of fiction. It does not depict any actual person or events. There are elements of stalking, rape, and violence. If any of those elements disturb you, please navigate away from this page. I do not condone the acts in this story in any way. It was born from a dream that I couldn't get out of my head and bloomed into the somewhat lengthy but intense story you find below. Feel free to comment, send feedback, and rate this story. I always enjoy hearing what you have to say! ---------------------------- In. Out. In. Out. My breath is steady and rhythmic. My feet are pounding on the pavement. My mind is only focused on the next step and the next piece of trail. Music is playing in my ears but I no long hear the words. It has become part of my body blending with my breath and heartbeat. I'm in the zone. This is when my problems disappear and I become one with the path. I'm alone out here and the world appears quiet and peaceful. There's nothing better than this and makes running at 6 am worth the struggle to climb out of bed. Three miles into my run I come around a bend and I'm surprised to see another soul out running this early. I only see him for a brief moment but it seems like he's not running as much as he could be. Not totally normal but not completely weird either. Maybe he's pacing himself. He glances my way but I quickly pass him and forget he even existed. Moments later I'm back in my zone and pushing up a small hill. I don't see another person for the next two miles and I'm gearing up for my final stretch. Suddenly the back of my head explodes in pain. I see the ground coming up to meet me and then nothing but blackness. I hear rustling and clicks. I feel cold air over my stomach and chest but don't understand why. Then I feel the pain. It floods through my body and all I can focus on is my head. Why? What happened? I remember running and then feeling intense pain but from what, I don't know. I hear myself groan in pain and the rustling and clicks stop. I have to force my eyes open and everything is blurry. After blinking several times my vision slightly clears and I see trees high above me and bits of sky showing through. That's when I notice I'm on the ground and feel the coolness of the dirt and leaves. Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion and simple thoughts are difficult to complete. I hear a single click again but I still can't figure out what it is. Then I hear a man's voice tell me not to move. Someone must be here to help. Thank goodness! I fight to turn my head towards his voice but I don't understand what I see. There's a man standing over me holding something and the look on his face is strange. It's not concern but I can't put a name to it. I recognize his face but I can't place him. I hear a click again and realize what he's holding is a camera and the click I hear is him taking a picture. What? I don't understand. Why would he be taking pictures when I need help? I ask him to help me sit up but he doesn't move. More clicks sound as he rapidly takes more pictures. Fear is starting to fill me and I desperately try to sit up. As I reach around to get leverage on the ground I feel my arm against my stomach and feel skin to skin contact. I quickly look down and I'm naked. The abrupt movement makes my head spin and my stomach roll threatening to empty its contents. I'm in a panic. Who is this man? Where the hell are my clothes? What is he doing? Oh my god I'm going to be sick! I barely get my head turned in time to vomit onto the colored leaves and hear him mumble the word perfect as more pictures fire off. I roll my body onto my side and eventually onto my stomach trying to shield myself. I start begging for him to leave me alone and feel hot tears fall down my cheeks. My voice gets stronger as my fear builds and I begin screaming at him to go away and then my screams turn into high pitched calls for help. At first my panic seems to excite him and his camera continues to capture my naked image. But when I begin to scream for help he quickly morphs into something new. His face contorts with anger and the camera stops. When I reach my loudest scream yet I feel a hard kick in my ribs. He growls at me, "Shut the fuck up!" I'm shaking with fear and pain. My body doesn't know what to feel more. My head is throbbing, my stomach is rolling, and now my ribs are sending shooting stabs of pain through my body. The overwhelming thing I feel is fear. He might kill me. He starts stroking my hair telling me to stay still and quiet and I'll be safe. I recoil from his touch and he repeats his kick into my ribs. I cry out in pain and he tells me to shut up again. I comply. What else can I do? I can't even sit up never mind get up and run. I just stay still on the ground lying on my stomach and shielding my face to block out the horror of this situation. The camera resumes it's clicking and I hear him moaning in approval. When the camera stops I think this may finally be over but he hasn't left yet. I hear more moaning. I don't know why I look but I immediately regret it when I do. He's standing over me with his penis in his hand stroking himself. No. Please no. I hide my face once more and cry into the leaves. I try to keep it as quiet as possible. I start to picture my family. My Mom and Dad's face slide into my mind and my sister soon follows. I cry more. My boyfriend's image fills my head and I try to lose myself in my favorite memories of us together. We've been together for a year now and I want more time with him. I try to take myself away to our vacation from a few months ago. In my mind I'm back on the beach in Florida bathing in the sun. I will myself to be there to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin again. I want to smell the salty ocean and hear the waves crashing onto the sand. Heartbreakingly, I'm ripped back to the present when I feel him kneel next to me and his knees push into my side. His moans are louder now and I can feel the movement of his body as his hand continues to pump. I try to move away but that only makes him hold me down with his free hand. I cringe at his touch but I have nowhere to go. Seconds later he climaxes and his hot fluids land on my back and ass. He continues to milk himself and seems to aiming mostly for my behind. I freeze as soon as it touches my skin and stay still through to the finish. When he's done he quickly stands and fixes his clothing. I don't look but hear the rustling of fabric. He stays still and silent for a moment or two before taking a few more pictures. I hear four clicks. Then he strokes my hair again and actually dares to thank me. I hear him start to move away before he says, "your clothes are to your right by the tree." Then he's gone. I stay in that position until I'm sure he's gone and confirm it by looking around. That's when the sobbing begins and I pour all the pain and humiliation into each painful sob. Through my tears I slowly manage to move into a sitting position before vomiting again. I'm pretty sure I have a concussion and based on the pain in my ribs with each movement something is definitely wrong there too. It takes me a moment to get my eyes to focus before finding my workout clothes at the base of the tree just out of reach. I stare at them in confusion. He folded them. My capris are carefully folded with my shirt and sports bra placed on top. My sneakers are placed just beside the pile with my socks laid across them. I don't see my panties. The thought makes me vomit again and I continue to cry. I finally get myself together enough to crawl towards my clothing and pull my shirt over my head. I just want to be covered. I'm shivering in the fall breeze but my main motivation is to no longer be exposed. It takes me a while to slide my capris on and I shove my feet into my shoes. I don't bother with the sports bra or socks but keep them in my hand as I use the tree as support to get into a standing position. My head swims again and I grip onto the tree to keep from falling to the ground. I might not be able to pull myself up again if I go down. I'm surrounded by trees and have no idea where the path is. I wish I had my phone but I left it in my car in the parking lot, wherever that is. I find my mp3 player and ear buds in the small back pocket of my capris but that can't help me at all. I just have to walk. Every step is pain and I have to stop to dry heave several times. The trees are the only thing keeping me from being a pile on the ground. I have no idea what time it is now but the sun is definitely higher in the sky. After I don't know how long I find one of the paths in the park and sit down on the side. I'm done. I can't walk any further and I'm forced to wait for someone to find me. The tears start again but I'm pretty sure I've gone emotionally numb. I don't have to wait long though. Soon a man and woman appear at the top of a hill on two bikes and stop in front of me. When they ask me if I'm ok I tell them someone attacked me. Then I don't say another word. I think I've checked out. A million things happen around me. The man gets on his cell and calls 911. The woman sits beside me and offers me her bottle of water. I take small sips. She tries asking me what happened and if I'm injured. I just point to my head and ribs but say nothing. Eventually she gives up and just tells me I'm going to be ok and sits beside me to wait. The man tries to ask me for my information to give to the person on the phone but I offer nothing. Is this is what shock is? I just can't bring myself to speak and share the humiliation that has taken place with these seemingly nice people. Sometime later I hear a noise approaching and two golf carts come into view. They are packed with people. I see a park official driving each cart but the rest of the seats are filled with paramedics and police officers. They look uncomfortable with all the gear on their laps being cramped onto the small vehicles. Anything larger would never fit on these paths. I'm checked over and coaxed to speak to one very nice looking female paramedic. I tell her my name is Alison and point out where I'm hurt. She shines a light in my eyes and looks at my head and ribs. Before long they have me wrapped in a blanket and someone is pressing something onto the back of my head and slowly moving me towards one of the carts. The couple who helped me are now off to the side speaking to an officer and watching me with a sad expressions. I quickly look away. An ambulance is waiting for me at the mouth of the path and a crowd has gathered in the parking lot to see what is the commotion is. I spot my car and point it out to a nearby officer. I tell him my phone is inside and he needs to call my boyfriend. He'll be worried I didn't return to my apartment where he had spent the night. I give the officer the band that holds my key from my wrist and he disappears from view. I'm soon loaded onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. An officer joins me along with a paramedic and questions me the entire trip to the hospital. I answer as best I can but I feel like I have nothing. I describe the guy as much possible but can give only a horrible guess of his height of at around six feet. I describe the rest of him as fit and muscular, dark short brown hair and dark eyes. I tell the officer about his clothes but they were only a light gray t-shirt and black shorts. I saw no tattoos, no piercings, or anything else to make him distinguishable. By the time we reach the emergency room the officer looks disappointed in my lack of information and leaves me in the hands of the doctors where the humiliation continues with their examinations, probing questions, and saddened stares. -Three weeks later- I'm sitting on my balcony wrapped up in a heavy blanket sipping tea. My Mom is inside my apartment trying to pretend like everything is totally normal while cleaning like a mad woman. My apartment couldn't be any cleaner as this has been her regular routine since I've been home from the hospital. She's here almost every day now vacuuming, dusting, polishing, and moping. I'm hiding on the balcony trying to avoid her overly peppy forced conversations. According to my doctors I'm doing really well. When I was admitted to the hospital I had a concussion and needed stiches in my head. They said I was hit over the head with a relatively heavy object and required ten stiches to close the wound. I also had four bruised ribs and one fractured rib on my right side from the kicks. My face, arms, and hands had some scrapes and cuts presumably from my fall after being knocked out but I had no other injuries. Based on their exam they concluded I was not raped and the only fluid on my body was the mess on my back when he masturbated over me. I spent one night in the hospital before being released with some pain medication and a recommendation to see a therapist. The police were quite excited about the fluids sample at first but it resulted in zero matches and soon became just as useless as the dirt and leaves found in my hair. The sketch artist produced an image after working with me for hours at the station but it honestly looks like it could be any young American guy. My description was light on the details and I still berate myself for not paying closer attention to his face. He never covered my eyes and I should have soaked in every detail. Instead, I just hid. I couldn't face the situation and now because of that, the police have very little to go on. No witnesses have come forward and no evidence has led anywhere. So after three weeks the only progress has been in my physical healing. Emotionally and mentally however, is a completely different story. I think that's why Mom is here trying to clean away what happened. She's worried but doesn't know what to do. When she's not here my sister is and my boyfriend has to fight both of them for access to me. I'd honestly prefer to have no one here. I don't want to talk about what happened with them anymore seeing their pity and treating me like I'm made of glass just pisses me off. So here I am, sitting outside in the chilled air staring off into nothingness. I returned to work after taking two weeks off and it has been the most awkward experience. People at work know something is wrong but most of them don't know the details. Only one friend from the office knows and she has thankfully kept it quiet. The awkward part is they can tell I'm different and they don't know what to do with me. I'm angry and cold all the time and I have no patience for anyone or anything. Thankfully I don't work with customers at work and I'm able to stay in my office working on my computer. I can lose myself in my work but I hate being there. I rarely go out in public besides work. I'm always afraid I'll run into him. I haven't been for a run outside since the incident and avoid interaction as much as possible. After hours spent outside I finally make my way in and find my Mom rearranging a shelf on my entertainment center. When she sees me she gives a cheerful smile and tells me a package has been delivered as if it should make me jump with joy. She hands me a small box and waits for me to open it. I assume she must have ordered me something until she says she's happy I decided to shop for myself. I tell her I haven't bought anything but she just smiles and says that maybe it's from my boyfriend, Shawn. I give in and cut it open. The first thing I see is pink tissue paper. When I lift it out of the way I find what looks like a small book with a fabric cover. I pull it out and flip open the cover and freeze. It's not a book but a photo album and the first page has a photo of me and I'm naked. I drop the book on the floor and back away. My Mom looks confused at my reaction until she looks down where the book has opened to a different page that shows a closer shot of my naked chest and face. I'm shaking and now pressed against my living room wall. This can't be happening. Please don't let this be happening! I hear a scream and realize it's me. I'm screaming and sliding down the wall. My Mom is in front of me just as I black out. When I come to, my Mom is holding me on the floor and she's crying. I'm wrapped in her arms with my head against her chest and I feel like a child but I don't want her to let go. I grip onto her and cry. She shushes me and strokes my hair. I rip away from her and retch at the feel of a hand stroking my hair. It brings me back to that day and I feel his touch. My Mom looks heartbroken but nods as if she understands. I run to my bathroom and lock the door behind me. I squeeze myself between the toilet and tub trying to make myself as small as possible. I want to disappear. A little later I hear a soft knock at the door and my Mom's voice tells me the police are here. When I come out there are four officers in the living room and one is wearing gloves inspecting the photo album and box. Just what I need, more humiliation. I sit through an interview at my dining room table but I know nothing about this box. They tell me that I shouldn't have touched it or opened but how was I supposed to know what it was? They grill my Mom about the delivery but she didn't see anyone. She found it outside the door when getting the mail and assumed it had been dropped off by UPS like the label said. After what seems like hours later they finally leave with the box and album and I'm once again left feeling violated and disturbed. A couple days later I'm at the station for a meeting with the detective on my case. He begins by apologizing for asking me to come in but that they have important things to go over with me. He tells me that the box wasn't shipped through UPS like the label implied. The label was fake and the box had to of been hand delivered. Once again no one saw anything and like most apartment complexes the buildings do not have cameras. The only prints found on the box and album belonged to me and my Mom and there were none on the pictures themselves. The photos were not developed anywhere they could trace which I wasn't even aware they could do. The detective tells me they believe the photos were developed privately, most likely by the suspect himself. My mind is reeling. They have nothing again. Pictures are hand delivered and they still have absolutely nothing! The detective has to say my name several times to get my attention before I realize he had still been talking. I ask for a break and go out into the waiting room where I find my parents waiting anxiously. They wait in silence as I sit across from them. They want to know what happened in there but it takes several minutes before anyone speaks. My Dad is the first one to break the silence, "What did they say, Ali?" I shake my head but he asks again and I give in. I explain what the detective said and slump into my chair when I'm finished. My Dad is shaking with anger. He begins pacing the room. My Mom and I sit in silence watching him. When the detective walks into the room a few minutes later my Dad erupts in anger at him, "You! I want to know why you people don't have a fucking clue who this guy is! He hand delivers you evidence and you still know nothing! How does he know her address? Tell me how! He was there! He was outside the door while my DAUGHTER and my WIFE were inside and you sit around here with your thumbs up your asses not doing a goddamn thing about it!" He's panting by the time he finishes and although you can see he's still angry he has nothing left. We're all drained by this entire experience. To the detective's credit he took everything my Dad threw at him and stayed calm. He calmly explains that they are doing everything they can but this guy is careful and covering all his tracks. He leaves no prints and clearly looks non-threatening because people do not see his presences as strange. His DNA resulted in no matches which means he's not in the system. In a nutshell he's good at what he does and knows it. Very reassuring isn't it? Fighting for Survival In the end the police don't know for sure how he knew my address and I have no idea either. I wasn't carrying ID on my run. Since he clearly knew it anyway the new theory is that the attack in the woods wasn't random as previously thought but instead targeted at me. They now believe he could have been stalking me before the incident in the park and knew my routine of running in the early morning hours. Since I'm clearly not safe in my apartment I agree to continue staying at my parent's house as I've done since the box arrived. It's in a gated community and has a security system so I'm supposed to feel safe but I don't. The police insisted that I should not actually move my things out of my apartment since he may still be watching it. If he really is watching won't he know I'm not staying there? Clearly I won't be coming and going so he'll know something is wrong. I don't even bother voicing my concern to the police since I'm convinced they cannot do a thing to protect me. They haven't so far. I even agree with my Mom's when she insists that we will simply buy what I need for now instead of going back to my place to pack a bag. A week passes without any incident and I decide to return to work once again. The police have been watching my apartment but there hasn't been anything out of the ordinary. No new packages have arrived and all has been quiet. My sister and father did go to my apartment to get some of my things but tried to make it seem like they weren't taking anything of importance. They put things in garbage bags and carried them out that way. When they returned I burst out laughing at their plan. It wasn't a good laugh though. If a laugh could sound cold mine did. To their annoyed and dejected faces I lashed out, "what will garbage bags do? I haven't been there in almost a week and if he's watching than he knows that. He's not stupid. No one takes garbage from someone's apartment and puts them in their trunk. It's stupid." In response my Mom walked out of the room and my sister gave me an angry glare. My Dad didn't do anything. I'm being cruel and I know it but can't seem to stop myself. I should be thankful for what they did and the position it puts them all in but I just bleed anger. On my second day back to work I'm forced to attend a meeting. I sit through the tedious moments of the monthly rundown and ignore the attempts at subtle glances sent my way. I manage to get through my part and the meeting finally ends. When I walk back to my office I see a fresh stack of mail waiting on my desk. I make my way through the expected things and toss the unimportant items. I'm opening the final envelope when my boss pokes her head in. We exchange pleasantries and talk about a recently acquired advertising account as I pull some papers out of the envelope. I look down as she talks and while opening a folded paper two pictures slip out. My boss doesn't notice as she's busy talking and looking at a folder in her lap. My stomach clenches at the sight and I quickly drop the paper over them without looking at it. My heart is pounding and I realize I'm holding my breath. I try to act normal but when my boss looks up her face changes and I know it's not working. I try to play it off that I don't feel well and she eventually leaves. Oh god! What do I do now? I quickly shut my door and lean against it staring at my desk like it may catch on fire. I'm panicking. I saw my face in one of those pictures before I dropped the paper. I know they're from him. He knows where I work. He must know I'm not at my apartment or he would have sent it there. I can't breathe. Time passes and I still haven't moved. I'm trying to control my breathing and get my mind to think. I need to do something. When my office phone rings I just stare at it until it finally quiets. I start focusing on my breathing like you would in yoga hoping to gain some sense of control. Fifteen minutes later I'm still against my door and hoping no one tries to come in here. My breathing has slowed and I open my eyes to look towards my desk again. I can do this. I just have to walk from here to my chair. It's only walking. It's simple. I'm lying to myself but it seems to be working for now. I slowly walk across my office and reach my chair. I take several more deep breaths before I sit. Being so close to the letter and pictures again starts to make me panic and I have to return to my controlled breathing to calm myself. I can do this. Maybe. A small voice in my head tells me I should walk out of the room and call the police but I do nothing. A bigger voice is telling me I don't want police invading my office and everyone here knowing whats happening. I can't be violated at work too. It's all I have left. Besides, the last delivery had no prints or evidence so I doubt this does either. I use my pen to flip over the envelope and I see it came through the local post office. That won't narrow it down. But I decide to be more careful with that and give it to the police later just in case. I finally reach for the letter and lift it off the photos. Tears fill my eyes as I look down at my own naked form in the picture. It's a full body shot of me on my back and it's clear I'm not awake. I stare at it for a while before finally moving it aside and revealing the second picture. It makes me sick and I turn to vomit into my trashcan. It's a close up of my vaginal area with one of his fingers touching me. It wasn't inserted but clearly touching my most private skin. He must have spread my legs to get this shot when I was still unconscious. It's horrifying and sickening. He may not have raped me but he did violate me in so many ways. I don't know how long I sit in my chair staring at the wall. The smell of vomit is strong in my small office and it's not helping my nausea. I still haven't even looked at the paper that came with the photos and don't want to turn back to it only to see that disgusting picture again. I grab a different piece of mail and drop it onto my desk without looking to cover the picture. I turn and I'm relieved to not see the photo as I pick up the folded paper. It's a letter. I close my eyes and try to steel myself for what it could say. I eventually open them and read. *Dear my Alison, I miss you. I haven't seen you in over a week now and it makes me sad. I keep thinking about our time in the woods together and wish to touch you again. We had such a great date that day, didn't we? You were such a great model. You are so beautiful, Ali. I have your pictures hanging up and look at them every day. They are my best work yet. You were even more perfect than I knew you would be. Your body was so responsive to my touch. Your pussy was even beautifully wet for me and you tasted so sweet. I will taste it again. I have to, you understand? Your body is made to be with me. I couldn't fuck you though, not while you were sleeping. You should be awake for that, baby. Don't worry, we'll have our time. You must be staying somewhere else now. Is this a game, baby? I so love games. I can't wait to figure it out and find you. It's exciting. I'm hard thinking about it. What fun we will have when I win. Do you like the pictures? I made sure to put them in a pretty album for you. You could frame these two. I'll see you soon.* I can't process this. I was wet? He molested me? Tasted me? But they found no other fluids and said they checked for saliva! Oh god, this is too much. I feel my stomach contents coming up my throat again and I add more to the trashcan. I have to get out of here. I quickly pack up my stuff including the letter and pictures. I'm still careful with the envelope but I doubt it will be helpful for anyone. Moments later I'm practically running out of the office to confused faces and people jumping out of my way. I skip the elevator and run down three flights of stairs and straight to my car. As soon as I'm inside I scream. Several people are in the parking lot coming back from their lunch break and stop to stare at me. I make the decision to go to the police station and call Shawn while on my way. I don't give him a chance to speak never mind ask questions. All he gets is me telling him to meet me at the police station before I hang up. My phone rings after that but I don't answer. I'm led into an interview room as soon as I arrive. Detective Adams comes in minutes later and takes one look at my face before asking what happened. I spill out everything the creep sent me onto the table and sit back as he examines it. He doesn't have gloves with him but uses two pens to manipulate the items around to get a better look. I turn away when he exposes the photos and he tells me when they're covered again. He asks me a lot of the same questions I was asked the day the box showed up and my answers are just as uninformative. Wisely, he doesn't press the issue of me touching the evidence and for not calling him to my office. Maybe on some level he understands but it doesn't help me since he clearly can't. After only thirty minutes I'm on my way out and find Shawn frantic in the waiting area. He tries to ask a bunch of questions but I just ask him to hold me. This is a newer development in the last month as in the beginning no one could touch me at all. I can handle holding now. It's a step. Back at my parent's house the family is in an uproar all around me. My Dad and Shawn are standing at the kitchen island trying to figure out the next step while my Mom and sister flutter around the kitchen trying to find something helpful to do. They haven't figured out that there isn't anything. I eventually get up and leave the room. I have nothing to offer so I go upstairs to the guest room that has now become my room and sit by the window. The lights are off in the room and I can clearly see the stars up above. It's pretty and somewhat peaceful. It's hard to find peace lately. My Mom briefly comes into my room to hand me a mug of tea and turn on a lamp nearby. She insists sitting in the dark isn't good for me and leaves before I can say anything. I can still see the stars and sit there for a while as my tea turns cold. I never even took a sip. My legs have fallen asleep and just as I'm about to get up some movement down on the ground catches my eye. I look down and just when I think I imagined it I see it again. It's not in the yard but near the edge. I can't see what it is but something is clearly moving. When it moves near the lights at the end of the driveway I see it's a man and he's looking right up at me. He stands there staring back at me and I'm frozen to my seat. After a few beats he lifts his hand to wave and then brings it down to his crotch. Then he's in the shadow again and I scream at the top of my lungs. There's a stampede up the stairs and several voices shout my name. They all burst into my room at the same time and look panicked. Shawn and my Dad run into th closet and bathroom as if looking for someone while my sister and Mom surround me in arms and cooing voices. I point towards the window and tell them someone was outside looking at me. It had to be him. I scream I know it was him! My Dad and Shawn race out of my room with my Dad barking to grab his guns from his office. Soon they're both outside in the front lawn carrying guns and looking everywhere. My sister is on the phone with 911 and my Mom is holding me like I might float away. I should be crying but I feel nothing. He's found me again. There's nowhere safe. How does he know where to find me? I'm not surprised when my Dad and boyfriend find nothing outside. I guess he won that so called game, didn't he? Once again we go through what is becoming routine with the police. They do sweep and find nothing. I answer a million questions and they leave knowing nothing new other than he apparently knows where my parent live as well. Based on the look my sister is wearing on her face she may have just realized we're helpless in this situation. Like typical men, my Dad and boyfriend still believe there is something they can do but I've given up. He always a step ahead and just gets away with it. It's like he can just slip in and out of anywhere and no one gives him a second glance. He's invisible and seems to be everywhere. My parents are discussing getting me out of the state and Shawn even suggests out of the country. They're all talking at once and I slip off to hide in the guest bathroom downstairs. The next morning I quietly get ready for work and sneak out of the house before anyone else is awake. Shawn stayed over but slept downstairs on the couch to keep an eye out. I left a note in the kitchen that I refuse to sit at their house when it will do no good anyway. I'm sure I'll get angry phone calls in a little while but continue driving anyway. What else am I supposed to do? He seems to always know where I am so why hide. I have work to get done and at least it's the one thing I can control. I need that control over something. Everyone else will just have to deal with it. I'm not fleeing the state or the country. He'll probably follow me anyway. He would see it as a game and I don't want to contribute to that. No. I'm not going anywhere. A part of me tells me I'm being an idiot but I maintain my stubbornness. I spend several hours at work and ignore eighteen phone calls on my cell from my parents and Shawn. I finally respond to both with text messages explaining I just had to get out. I apologize but I don't mean it. It's easier to pretend over text. They don't agree but at least the calls stop. When lunch hour rolls around I go out to my car to pick something up and find a note on my windshield. I hesitate. It could be from him. I look around in all possible directions but don't see anyone that looks like they're watching me. I slowly pick up the yellow paper and unfold it. It's a note. *That was fun but no more games. I need to see you. Meet me behind the empty bowling alley on Lawrence Street at midnight. Come alone! If I see anyone with you I'll come after your family. Don't make me do that, baby. Don't run. I will find you.* I reread the letter at least ten times before it sinks in. He underlined the words come alone several times and wrote family much larger than the rest. I know he picked the old bowling alley because its dark and the back lot isn't visible from any street or building. I know this since it's the hangout where teens go to make out or do other things they aren't supposed do. At least it used to be. They probably moved on to somewhere else now. I climb into my car and read the note again. This is insane! Should I bring it to the police? Probably, but I make no move to start the car. Maybe I should show my family or Shawn but that doesn't seem like a better idea either. I shove the note into my purse and drive away from the office. I don't go for lunch or go home. I just keep driving until I end up at a beach and find myself walking out onto the sand to sit not far from the waves. It's cold and windy but I don't care. There aren't many people out here but a few are walking their dogs and one guy is sitting down the beach feeding some seagulls. It's quiet and I let my thoughts drift away. I'm forced to get up when the waves move their way closer and it's either stand up or get wet. I go back to my car and check my phone. It has several messages from my sister and Shawn and I decide to finally go to my parent's house. I still don't know what I'm going to do about the note when I pull into the driveway or when I walk in the front door. They attempt to get me to listen to their plan of getting me out of the area but I shoot it down. By the end of the conversation they're all exasperated and my Mom wanders off to bed. I go up to my room for a shower and ignore Shawn when he comes in and stands against the counter. He eventually leaves the room and goes back downstairs. I don't even know if he's staying or not. After my shower I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. When Shawn comes again I pretend to be asleep. I don't want to talk right now. He leaves again. I still haven't told anyone. At 11:30pm I stare at the clock knowing I need to make a decision. At this point it's too late to involve the cops and the idea of bringing them and something happening to my family makes me feel ill. He could hurt my sister or my Mom. He could kill them all. This guy seems capable of anything. If I don't go he might come here. Hell, he would come here. He's already made that clear. My family would be so vulnerable. But if I go, I have no idea what he'll do to me. He could take me and still come after my family but for some reason I don't think he will. He doesn't want them. What point would that serve if he already has me? I feel myself getting out of bed before I even make a conscious choice. I change into sweatpants and a t-shirt with a hoodie over it. I slip on a baseball hat but have no idea why and take it back off. Sneakers and a vest are the last things I grab before heading towards my bedroom door. I stop before I reach it and decide that if I'm going to do this I need to at least leave something to explain. I pull the note the creep left out of my purse and put it on my bed. I rip a piece of paper out of a small notebook I keep with me and write "I'm sorry." I put it next to the yellow paper from my new stalker and walk out of the room. At least they'll know what happened. It only takes 15 minutes to drive to the bowling alley and I pass it twice before pulling in. I don't see any cars or people. I sit out front for a few minutes but no pulls in and very few cars even pass by. Finally, I very slowly ease my car behind the building and brace for what I might see. Nothing. There's no one back here. It's dark and I can only see what my headlights allow me and the slight glow from the moon. I park the car but leave it running. It's quiet and I don't see a single bit of movement. The clock shows time passing but it feels like time has gone still. When it moves past midnight I start to hyperventilate in my seat. I'm about to drive away before the thought of my family asleep in their beds stops me. I put the car back in park and turning it off. I keep the doors locked though and sit in my seat. What am I doing? This is crazy! The clock now reads quarter past midnight and there hasn't been anything. I start to think maybe this was just a test and he won't do anything. By twenty-five past I'm almost completely convinced of this and laugh at myself for even sitting here this long. I called his bluff. Just as I relax in my seat I hear my car beep and my doors make the unlocking sound. I don't even have time to react before my driver door pulls open and there he is wearing the biggest grin. I open my mouth to scream and he shoves a thick cloth over my mouth and nose and holds it there. I try fighting him but he holds me still and keeps the cloth over my face. My nose and throat are burning and my head is quickly getting fuzzy. I hear him murmur something and shush me before I'm once again in nothing but blackness. I feel softness beneath me and but can't hear anything. I think I must be in bed but then panic fills me and my eyes pop open at the memory of what happened in the car. I thrash and find my arms and legs are tied down. I'm on a four post bed and my arms and legs are each tied to one post. I'm splayed out in the middle and only wearing my t-shirt and underwear. Oh god! What did I do? I'm so stupid! I look around widely and see no one. I'm in a normal looking bedroom but something is off. It takes me a moment to realize there are no windows. My heart is racing and I can barely breathe. No no no no no! This can't be happening. Why did I do this? I could be out of the state or in a totally different country but I just had to be difficult. Oh please don't hurt my family! I'm in the room by myself for a long time. My breathing returns to normal and I feel calmer but on alert. I have no idea how long I've been here. I don't even know if it's still night outside. I have no way to tell and I realize he wants it that way. Sometime later I hear sounds approaching the only door in the room and tense up not knowing what to expect. I hear locks click and watch it open slowly. There he is. I recognize his face even though he grew a goatee. He's smiling at me and comes in the room closing the door behind him. He puts a bottle of water and a box on a dresser near the door before coming to sit on the bed. I try to move away but I can't. He continues to smile at me and reaches out to stroke my hair. I shut my eyes at the touch but make no sound. I can't fight him. I can't even move! What do I do now? He has complete power. My thoughts race trying to remember what I've heard about how women survive these situations. What do they do? Fight? Go along? I don't know! Fighting for Survival He eventually starts to talk and just the sound of his voice makes my stomach roll. He starts, "I'm so glad you came, baby. You were such a good girl following the directions. You really wanted this second date too, didn't you? " He looks so proud. He's staring at me like he's waiting for something but I don't know what. We stare at each other and his face begins to harden. His voice comes out harsh and menacing when he says, "didn't you?" I realize he wants me to answer to so I nod my head. He barks at me, "Say it!" I quickly say yes, I wanted it. He immediately relaxes and smiles again. He starts talking, "I knew you did. I could tell how happy you were to see me outside your parent's house. It was fun finding you but seeing you in that window made me desperate to touch you. I almost decided to simply go in the house but thought it would be more fun for you to come to me." He almost came in the house? Oh god! He stands and walks over to the dresser and picks up the water bottle. He starts talking again, "I'm sure you're thirsty. I'll bring you food soon but we have some things to do first." He brings the water over and gently lifts my head so I can take a sip. It spills a little but I'm able to swallow some. I'm shocked at how gentle he is one minute and how terrifyingly violent he can seem the next. He puts it down on the nightstand before checking each of the restraints. Eventually he goes over to the dresser and picks something up but I don't see what it is. He comes back and sits beside me. I feel his hand on my leg and flinch. He notices but doesn't say anything. I doubt I can get away with that much more. He gently strokes my skin before speaking again, "I hope the bed is comfortable. I made this room just for you. Do you like it?" I say yes and he seems happy with my response. He keeps going, "Good! I have another surprise for you." He pulls the object from the dresser out from behind his back and it takes me a moment to figure out what it is. To my horror it's a vibrator. Oh no. Please God no! He smiles and turns his body towards me. I feel his hand reach the apex of my thighs and I fight every fiber in my body not to recoil. He murmurs good girl before beginning to rub in circles. This isn't happening. It can't be. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to ignore the touch of his hand. He does this for several minutes before he stands again. I open my eyes in time to see him come back to the bed with a pair of scissors and watch him quickly cut my underwear and t-shirt off my body. He smiles at me and says, "We won't need these anymore." This must be hell. I never believed in it before but this must be what this is. What did I do to deserve this? He stares at my body looking up and down before putting the scissors back on the dresser and sitting beside me again. He whispers, "this will be good baby so don't fight it." I squeeze my eyes shut but they fly open when I feel a hard slap across my stomach. He screams, "Do not ignore me!" I say ok several times and promise not to fight it. He smiles again. Ok. I have to answer him even when there's no question. How will I survive this? He returns his hand to where it was and there's no longer underwear to keep a barrier between us. I don't move a muscle and stare at the ceiling. He moves his fingers around in circles and teases the opening to my vagina. This is worse than I could have imagined. I peak down at him and he's watching his fingers. I feel tears prick at my eyes and I try to fight it but fail. They slide down the sides of my face onto the mattress. I suddenly hear the telltale sounds of the vibrator and try to brace for the contact. When it touches me I cry out in horror but he takes it as pleasure and says, "That's right baby. It feels good doesn't it?" The tears pour from my eyes and I squeeze them shut again. I will myself to stay silent as he works the vibrator around. I feel his fingers play with my opening again before he shoves one inside while the other hand continues with the vibrator. I feel him move his finger in and out and I start to drift away in my own head. I'm not in the room anymore. I'm back in my childhood home and its Christmas. My family is all around me and everyone looks happy. I watch the memory of getting a puppy for Christmas play out and cling to it. I'm pulled from my memories when I hear him talking again. He's repeating the words 'yes' and 'oh baby' over and over. I feel his fingers inside me and the vibrator buzzing against my sensitive skin again. To my horror I can feel I must be moist down there and my heart breaks at my body's betrayal. It's responding to his manipulations and I don't understand why. I fight the sensations and refuse to allow my body to go any further. He doesn't seem to notice. Abruptly the vibrator and fingers disappear. Before I can even think it's over he leans over and puts his mouth on me where the other things had been. I sob as I feel his tongue on and in me and hear him moan. No! I freeze and bite my tongue to keep myself quiet. He continues but I give no reaction. I feel myself shutting down and I stare at the little spot on the ceiling. I can't seem to drift away again and I feel every little thing he does. When he finally stops I refuse to look at him. He starts talking as he moves his face over mine, "That was so good! I could tell it was good for you too. You taste even more delicious than last time." He smiles and I nod because I know it's what he wants. He stands up and unzips his pants. He lets them drop to the floor and his boxers quickly follow. This is it. He's going to rape me now. I wait for him to move down the bed but he doesn't. Instead, he climbs on next to me and puts a knee on either side of my stomach. His penis is now right in front of me and I'm terrified at how large it is. He's going to rip be apart when he forces it on me. I look away but he grabs my face and pulls it back down while telling me to look at him. I do. His penis is pointing at my face and he has one hand wrapped around it. He looks down at his own hand and frowns, and then says, "I wish this was your hand baby but we're not ready for that yet." His smile returns. His hand pumps up and down his length several times while he stares at my face. He suddenly stops and grabs my face again. He moves his body closer to my face and tells me to stick out my tongue. Please don't make me do this! When I don't immediately respond he squeezes my face roughly and my tongue seems to leave my mouth on its own. He tells me to keep it out and rubs the head of his penis back and forth along it. I can taste his pre-cum and gag in response. He squeezes my face again but says nothing. He does this for few moments before pulling back and letting go. His hand begins to pump harder and his head rolls back. I close my mouth and eyes and pretend this isn't happening. His grunts get louder and then I feel his ejaculate land on my breasts. When finished, he quickly gets up and produces a towel. He gently cleans me up and spends more time than necessary on each nipple. Finally he tosses it on the floor and grins at me. He's still naked from the waist down. Then with no warning he leaves the room. I think it's the next day but I can't tell. He did eventually let me eat and pee but I'm still naked. I want to move but I can't. After letting me off the bed briefly he tied my arms and legs down again and I'm forced to stay in the same position. When he comes in the room again he seems happy. I see several sex toys in his hands and cry at the thought of what is coming next. He ignores me at first but when my crying turns to begging him to let me go he quickly turns angry. He stands there glaring at me but I can't stop. I beg again promising I won't tell anyone and his hand slaps me across my face. When I cry out in response he slaps me again even harder. My cheek is throbbing and my eye is screaming. I don't make a sound this time but the tears won't stop. I jump when he roars in anger and I'm suddenly a human punching bag. His fists pound into my ribs and breasts again and again. I cry out at first but bite my tongue quickly to keep it in. After several rounds of punching and my continued silence he finally stops. He's out of breath and staring at me. There's so much pain. My ribs took the brunt of his attack and in their already fragile state I know I'm injured again. A sob escapes without my control and he swears. In my head I'm begging him to leave but he doesn't. When I hear his pants unzip and hit the floor I feel something break inside me. Quickly he's on top of me and pushing my already splayed legs further apart. He hovers for a moment and then slams into me. It's searing pain. He's too large and my body struggles to accommodate him in my non-aroused state. I cry out and he slams in again. It's punishment. I know it is. I force myself quiet again and he continues pounding into me. He starts grunting out words as he goes and I hear that it's my fault and that I made him do this. I sink into myself trying to get away from the pain and violation. He continues forcing himself deeper into me. Finally he gives a final hard thrust and reaches his climax. I want to puke at the idea of him coming inside me but I hold it down. I keep my eyes shut as he climbs off me and walks out of the room. I lay there not allowing myself to be sick or cry. Eventually I fall asleep. I don't see him again for what seems like such a long time. By the time he finally comes in I have to pee so bad I'm moments away from wetting myself. I whisper what I need to do afraid he'll punish me again. He doesn't. He removes the restraints carefully and massages each wrist and ankle as each cuff is removed. He pulls the gun from the back of his pants and uses it to point to the bucket in the corner. I move towards it as quickly as possible and relieve myself. Once I'm finished he lets me stay standing for a while but says nothing. He uses the gun to point me back to the bed and soon I'm back in my chains. I expect him to bring out the sex toys but he doesn't. Instead he goes to the door and steps out. Maybe I'm getting a break. It's a short lived one. Just before the door is completely shut he comes back in and drops his pants. No. Not again. I'm still so sore from before to the point I'm convinced I have a tear inside me. If he forces himself on me again I don't think I can take it. I feel relief when he kneels over my chest instead. This I can take much more than the other option. He strokes himself and watches my face. I stare back at him but I'm not really seeing. He moves up the bed so that his knees are on either side of my underarms and his penis is now directly above my mouth. He picks the gun up off the bed where he had left it earlier and puts it to my head. He begins speaking in a low but threatening voice, "You're going to suck my dick. I'll shoot your pretty little head off if you try anything, you understand?" I nod and say yes but my voice fails me and it comes out as a whisper. I can feel the coldness of the gun against my temple and it makes my blood run cold. He tilts his head to the slide and presses it harder against my head. I say yes again and force my voice to come out louder this time. Seemingly satisfied but weary he aims his penis at my mouth and tells me to open. I do. I can do this. I just have to pretend it's not him. I can do it. I'm repeating this in my head as my lips and tongue come in contact with the head of his penis. He tells me to lick him and I do. I turn off my thoughts and do what he wants. He pushes further into my mouth and I try my best to accommodate. I taste his pre-cum for the second time and force myself to not react. He starts pushing himself into my mouth further and more forceful. It hurts. When he reaches the back of my throat I gag and he pushes in harder. I can't take all of him but it's like he's trying to shove the entire thing in my face. I continue to gag despite trying hard not to and he presses the gun against my head and tells me, "You better swallow!" He begins pumping his other hand and tells me to suck. I do and he quickly empties himself into my mouth. I gag but manage to swallow. I ask him for water when he stands up but he ignores me and walks out of the room. This continues for what I think is months. Each day is the same. He comes in at different intervals and plays with my body like it's a toy. He uses all different sex toys but almost always ends with him forcefully raping me. He still likes to masturbate over me and does it often. Never in my face though but I find myself waiting for it each time. He allows me off the bed frequently but always keeps a gun on me when he does. I have to eat cold sandwiches and drink water as my meals. I'm still forced to relieve myself in a bucket but he now lets me walk around the room for a little bit while he watches. The gun is always nearby. I still have to be naked at all times. Even during my period I'm not allowed any clothing. He supplies me with tampons and wipes during it but that is all. It doesn't stop him from raping me one bit. The only coverage I get is when he comes in to cover me with a blanket and says it's time for sleep. I'm no longer tied to all the posts but one leg is always leashed to the bed. It's not long enough for me to get up but I can at least roll and change positions. I've learned he likes when I talk to him but only when I'm tied to the bed. I think he feels safer when he knows I can't move much. The talking isn't about anything in particular most of the time. It started just as me answering and agreeing with him but I was able to progress it to almost conversations. My only plan is to get him to trust me enough to let me out of this room. It's my only hope. He requires me to give him blow jobs while he holds a gun to my head on a regular basis. One of the times he pushed into my throat too far and I gaged and vomited on him. He was so angry he punched me in the head and knocked me out. Now I just get it done like a chore and pretend it's not real. I'm forced to swallow every time which he says makes us closer. He views me as his girlfriend and says we will have such a happy life together. I can sometimes use the girlfriend thing to coax things out of him like giving me more food or allowing me to sponge bathe myself more often but so far that's the only thing it has worked for. When I push him too far he spirals into rages and beats me. I'm much more careful now than I was in the beginning. I've learned but he can be hard to predict and I inevitably fail at some point. Since his visits with the blankets to say goodnight and coming back later to say good morning are regular, I've been using them as my way to track the passing days. Based on my count I've been here forty three days now. I could be wrong though. It could be a lot less or more. His schedule could be to completely screw with my head. When you have no natural light and nothing to pass time it becomes impossible to tell two hours from twelve. I rely on his visits to track the time and have to only hope it's working. I find I look forward to his visits to my room since it's the only interaction I have. It's the only thing I have, period. He is now my entire world. It horrified me in the beginning but we have an amazing ability to get used to things. I think its day fifty two when he comes into my room and unties my leg and hands me a hot turkey sandwich. I'm shocked at the change in food and devour the meal. He sits beside me on the bed without a word. When I finish I thank him like I'm expected to and he nods. It's only now that I notice he doesn't have the gun in his hand. He asks me if I would like a shower and I say yes without even registering the question. I just simply answer yes to everything now. I whip my head toward him when I realize what he said and wait for what happens next. He just looks at me for a while then stands and takes my hand. I follow him as he leads me out of the room and through what I realize is a basement. I look all around amazed at being out of my little room. We climb a set of stairs and come out into a very normal looking kitchen. I'm blown away! He takes me down a hallway and into a very clean looking bathroom. I feel tears prick my eyes when he turns the shower on and pulls a towel out of a closet. He looks alarmed when he sees my tears so I give a small smile. He stares at me before asking, "Does this make you happy?" I hesitate very briefly but then confirm that it does. He seems to think about it then smiles. He turns and sits on the toilet lid and gestures for me to go ahead. It's the best shower I've had in my life. He stays in the room and watches me through the frosted glass doors but I don't even care. I'm used to him watching me. My focus is only on the hot water and how amazing it feels. I stay in there well past the time needed to wash everything and only give in to getting out when the water turns chilly. As soon as the water is off he opens the door and hands me a towel. He watches as I dry myself off and then produces a thick robe. He's never allowed me to put any kind of clothing on and I revel in the feel of it wrapped around me. He seems hesitant with each new thing he allows me so I continue to offer him smiles as encouragement. It appears to work. After the shower he has me sit on the toilet while he carefully brushes out my hair. When he's finished I ask him if I could use the toilet and he agrees. Using something besides a bucket is amazing. He lets me finish and wash my hands in the sink. In what feels like a lifetime ago I would have taken these things for granted but I cherish each second of it now. Once again he takes my hand and walks me back through the kitchen and into a living room. He sits me on the couch and takes a seat beside me. He turns the TV on and flips through the channels before settling on what he seemed to be looking for. I'm not paying attention to it. I'm stroking my robe and looking around the room. I can see its dark outside but just looking out a window even into darkness is wonderful. I notice what looks like frost on the glass and wonder if there is snow on the ground. This house seems so normal. Anyone could live here. The couch is even quite comfortable. He's very quiet beside me and the commercials drone in the background. I know whatever this new game is could end at any moment. I don't know why he would suddenly allow me to shower and sit up here with him. Is all my talking and trying to get him to trust me finally working? I just don't know. He's impossible to read. The TV suddenly grabs my attention when a news announcer comes on and says, "Now we return to the story of Alison Scott, missing since mid-October." Oh my god! They're talking about me! I'm about to turn my head toward him when an alarm goes off in my head that this is a test. He wants to see my reaction. I can feel his eyes on me. I keep my eyes on the screen as several pictures of me glide across it and the newswoman details my story. I keep my face passive which I've become quite good at lately. I stay as calm as possible and listen to what the woman is saying, "Alison Scott is a beautiful 25 year old woman that has been missing for sixty days." So my day count was wrong. I fight to keep my focus and listen, "She is believed to have been kidnapped and considered to be in danger. Police say a man who had been stalking her for some time and is also suspected of attacking her in a park back in September. Her car was found behind what used to be Sampson's Bowling Alley on October 14th with the keys still inside but no trace of Alison. Her family has offered a $25,000 reward for her safe return and has organized many searches of the area in hopes of finding their beloved daughter. Authorities have made no arrests in the case and say they have no suspects at this time. They are asking anyone with information to come forward and call the number you see below." The screen flashes a family photo and then one of Shawn and I together from the previous Christmas. Then they break to a commercial. Fighting for Survival I blink at the TV a few times trying not to show any emotion on my face. Sixty days. My family is searching for me. I assumed they would but seeing their faces in the photos is ripping through my heart. I can feel his eyes on me and the tension is the room is high. He's waiting for me to do something and I don't think he will wait much longer. Finally I turn my face toward him and thank him for letting me watch some TV. Then I wait. He stares at me as if he's trying to look straight through me. Finally he gives a small nod and turns back to the screen. He turns the channel to a movie already in progress and reaches for my hand. He holds it tightly, almost painfully and I know it's a warning. I let out a quiet breath and lean back on the couch. I have to pretend to be ok. I have to keep his trust, however much of that I have. Time passes and for the first time in a long time I'm able to watch it on a clock. He slowly relaxes and lessens his grip on my hand. Before long I feel him adjust in his seat and when I look over I see an erection tenting in his pants. I don't know what to expect. I know I'm being tested and I don't know if I've passed or not. He makes no movements for a long time. When the movie ends about forty minutes after the news broadcast he flips it off and pulls me up from the couch. He leads me down the hallway past the bathroom into a bedroom. I know where this is going now. I should feel terrified but I'm numb like a robot following instructions. We stop at the side of the bed and he stares at me. I don't know what he wants and rack my brain for the right answer. He looks down at the sash a few times then back to my face. Then I know. He wants me to remove it. I slowly undo the tie and let the robe fall open. He smiles and nods in approval. I can feel the tension still rolling through him and if I make the wrong move here it could mean things far worse than I've had before. I hear my own voice in my head saying that I have to do this. If I can get through this and allow him to do what he's wants he may give me enough freedom for me to get home again. It's all I have. He's already stopped using the gun. I haven't even seen it. I take a deep breath and he does the same. Is he nervous? I realize he's shaking a little and don't know what to make of it. I just decide the best thing I can do is continue. I reach up and move the robe off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. He looks me up and down and moves closer. I step back and sit down on the bed and lay sideways across it. He stares down at me for a while as I wait for a sign of what to do next. Several minutes pass before he finally moves. He slips his pants and boxers off the way he normally does but then takes his t-shirt off. He's never done that before. He always keeps that on. He kneels at the side of the bed and wraps his hands around my legs. He pulls me towards him and spreads me open. I stay still and allow it all to happen. I have no real choice in it anyway. Keeping his eyes on my face he kisses between my legs and very gently licks. This is different. Normally he's so rough when he does anything sexual like he's desperate for it. Now he's slow and gentle. When it begins to feel nice I don't know how to feel about it. So I feel nothing at all. When I look away he pulls back and tells me to look at him. His voice is soft and I look back down at his face. He returns his mouth to me and continues. He seems to be worshiping every inch of me inside and out. I don't understand why he's being so different. A few minutes later he moves a single finger to my opening and gently strokes it before sliding inside. He gradually builds to two and then three fingers while his tongue continues its movements. My body responds and I don't fight it. If I give him this maybe he'll give me more freedom. I let my body build and I let go when my orgasm hits. Moans escape my lips and I feel my body quiver and twitch. He seems shocked at first and momentarily freezes. Maybe it was the built up tension or maybe I just wanted to feel something good after months of pain. He finally stops his activities and pulls back to look at me as I catch my breath. When I look at his face he's looking at me with a strange expression. I start to panic that maybe I did something wrong and fear prickles all over me. A large grin spread across his face and I see he's happy but I only slightly relax. I have survived another scary moment but at what cost? I feel a growing sense of revulsion towards myself for responding to his touch. I want to cry and scream but I know I can't. Instead I stay completely still and wait. He's not done yet and stands to climb onto me. He moves my legs to either side of him and puts his penis just at my opening before stopping. Looking down into my face he whispers, "Finally." He then moves and slowly enters me. My body strains at the invasion but it's not painful like it always has been. He pauses a moment before pushing in a bit further. Once he's in deeper I wince and freezes in place. He slowly moves back and forth inching his way in and I can't believe how gentle he's being. He's carefully watching my face and stops every time I react to the size of him. After slow going and many pauses he finally works his entire penis inside me. He gives a couple long slow strokes and the pain from before is now gone. He seems to realize this and picks up speed. He seems to lose himself in it and finds a rhythm. He holds my legs spread and leans back to watch himself thrust in and out. He then pushes my legs towards my chest and tells me to hold them there. He seems even deeper now and his breathing is getting more erratic. I refuse to do what I did before. I just let him do what he's doing and focus on nothing but the ceiling. His finger is suddenly on me and rubbing in circles and I fight the sensation. Seconds later he gives a final thrust and empties inside me. When it's over he slips out and walks out of the room. Before I can even realize he's gone he returns with two damp towels. He hands one to me and I mop up as best I can and he does the same. He then pulls the blankets back and gestures for me to climb inside and I do. He follows me in and pulls me against him. He has moved me into spooning position and wraps his arm tightly around me with his hand cupping my breast. I feel him drop gentle kisses on my shoulder and the back of my neck before he whispers, "Thank you. You're finally really mine. Everything will be different now." I nod and he gives my breast a squeeze. We're silent for a long time and I hear rain patter on the window by the bed. I listen to the sounds and try not to let my brain analyze what I just let happen. I can't handle that right now. I'm just doing what I need to do. I feel his breathing change and a slight snore but his arm is still locked around me. I shift a little and it tightens. I'm not going anywhere. I focus on the rain again and soon I drift off to sleep unchained for the first time since I last slept at my parent's house. I awake hours later and it's still dark in the room. I start to wonder what time it is when I notice I'm on my back and his arm isn't around me anymore. I still and listen for any sounds. He's snoring lightly and his breaths are slow. I decide to test it and roll onto my side facing the side of the bed. He doesn't stir and continues to snore. I feel my adrenaline start to build and I try to keep calm. I'm going to sit up and see what he does. If he wakes I will say I need to use the bathroom. I actually do have to pee so I'll be able to sell it. I'm still taking a big risk. He could lash out the second he see me getting up but I have to try. With a deep breath I sit up on the bed carefully and stop again. He still seems to be asleep so I stand up and turn back to him. Nothing changes. Maybe he's a heavy sleeper. He never had to worry about me escaping before. I take a deep breath and decide it's now or never. I move quickly but quietly around the bed and across the room. I look back one last time at the bed and he looks the same and is still snoring. I go through the doorway and out into the hallway. My heart is pounding and I'm hyper aware of every sound and feeling. I head straight to the kitchen where I saw a backdoor earlier and just as I pass the kitchen table I see the gun in a holster hanging off one of the chairs. I stop and stare at it. Then I look up and stare at the door. It's right there and only has one lock to undo. I could just go right now. But the gun stops me. If I run he'll chase me. He'll do everything he can to find me. I could end this now though. I could kill him with his gun and end it once and for all. I'm conflicted and look back and forth between the gun and my escape. I finally turn back towards the bedroom and look into the dark hallway. The angry part of me seems to come back to life. I shut if off a long time ago but now it's coursing through me like lava and I hear my voice say, "Fuck him" into the air. I know what I have to do. I grab the gun and click off the safety. I silently thank my Dad for teaching me how to shoot many years ago. Slowly I make my way back up the hallway with the gun out in front of me. I pause outside the door and listen. I hear him give a loud snore before settling back down into his previous pattern. I let every memory of what he's done flood over me. Every touch and every hit. I let it fill me with hate and anger. I relive every second of it in that hallway. With hot angry tears on my face I move into the room and to the side of the bed. My eyes have adjusted to the light and I can clearly see his sleeping form on the bed. He's on his back and I aim the gun towards his chest. I think of him inside me and the hate in me is so strong I can feel it vibrating through me and the gun shakes. I bite my lip and steady my hands. I take aim a second time. Suddenly his eyes pop open and I fire. I shoot shot after shot into his chest and see his body bounce with each hit. I never close my eyes and I watch the shock cross his face before a brief moment of pain and then nothing. I don't know how many bullets I've fired when I finally stop and wait. I watch him for any movement but there's nothing. I let a few moments pass and still nothing. I fire three more shots into him and put one in his head. I let the gun drop to my side and stare at him. He doesn't move and I'm sure he's dead. I drop the gun on the floor and turn back to the door. I look back again and wait for the tears to come but my eyes are dry. I feel calm. After a few moments of staring at him I walk out of the room and out of the house into the rain. The air is freezing and the rain is painful on my skin. There's melting snow on the ground and I have no shoes. I start walking down the street trying to decide where to go. I wander for a while before seeing a house with lights on inside. I'm hesitant about going up to it but the cold drives me to the door. I ring the doorbell and wait. I hear movement and an older man comes to the door and asks who I am. I tell him I need help and he opens the storm door to get a look at me. When he sees my complete lack of clothing he looks alarmed as he asks what happened. I look down and say, "My name is Alison Scott. Could you please call the police?" He blinks at me and whispers, "Sweet baby Jesus!" He calls out to someone in the house and takes me inside. In the brighter light he sees the splattered blood on my naked body and immediately looks away. An older woman who I assume is his wife walks in and stops mid step. Before her husband even has a chance to say anything she gasps and says my name. She knows who I am. She looks at my body and the blood. Then she quickly grabs a blanket off the couch and wraps it around me while guiding me to their fireplace where a fire is already lit. The woman moves away to the nearby phone and dials 911. Her husband comes into the room and stands beside me. He stares at the fire and then says, "I hope that's the blood of the bastard that did this to you." I'm shocked but give a slight nod. He nods back and asks, "Dead?" I nod again and he finally looks at me. Then he gives a single nod and whispers, "Good girl." He doesn't say another word but stays beside me until the police and paramedics arrive. Before I know it I'm being brought out to an ambulance surrounded by police. I look back at the house as I'm lifted inside and give a wave to the older couple that took me in, even only for a brief time. The wife waves back and wipes a tear. The older man just gives me another nod. I did it. I survived. I beat him at his own game. I have won. ----------------------------------------- Welcome back to Channel10 News. Developing story: Alison Scott who had been missing for two months has been found alive. Alison was kidnapped back in October and was held captive in a local home before escaping in the overnight hours of last night. Police have identified her captor as 29 year old Jacob Hines. It has been confirmed to Channel10 that Hines was found dead inside the home from several gunshot wounds. Sources have told us that Alison Scott used a gun found inside the house to shoot Hines before making her escape and seeking help from a neighbor. We caught up with the Scott family outside the hospital and although they declined to comment on camera they did inform us that Alison is doing well and asked for privacy. Tonight at 10, we will have interviews with people living on the same street as Hines about learning that the young man living next door that seemed so normal was a actually a monster in hiding. We will also be speaking with Principle Davis from the high school where Hines worked as a history teacher. Stay tuned.