Lost Time

The Hawk

Everything, other than the victim, had been planned. He had parked his car behind some buildings next to the theme park, where no one else was going to see him get in or out. He had then wandered around the park for a few hours looking for potential victims. The only requirements were girl, young, and… cute. The way he lured me away was dropping some park tickets on the ground to the side of the shooting stand. That was all it took. I ran away to pick them up, and he greeted me with big arms and chloroform to my face. He then simply ran out the back, through the theme park fence, and into his car. It all took maybe 20 seconds before we were driving away, far enough for a roadblock to be set up by the time the police had been informed. 

After that, he didn’t have a proper plan anymore. Other than to make sure there was no evidence leading to him. As soon as we got home, or whatever place it was he took us to, I was drugged with rohypnol and all my clothes were burnt in a fire out the back. He then took pictures of me in a greenroom he had set up. He’d set me up in all kinds of positions and get pictures from every angle, and I was too drugged out to understand what was happening, least of all to resist. He then invited his friends over, and they had more in mind than just taking pictures of me. I was told I was penetrated orally and made to pleasure them in any way they desidered, other than vaginal or anal penetration, once again, evidence. That didn’t stop them from putting smaller toys in those regions however, things that would hurt, but wouldn’t leave a mark. I felt sick to my stomach. They had used me like I was some sort of toy, sent to them for their amusement. The day after he had kept me all to himself. Waggled and cuddled me like I was his kid, like he was my father. A father that apparently kept sticking his tongue down my throat and grinding on my genitals.

I guess he didn’t expect the amount of media attention it would get. It was broadcasted all over the nation, and all the major newspapers were publishing stories describing every single little detail they had. The plan was to kill me and bury me in the forest, or maybe drop me off in the local lake to drown to death. But with the police seemingly finding leads too close to his comfort, and the attention growing wider every passing day, he had to stop it somehow. He threw me in the car as the sun settled and drove to a forest some towns away, where he’d bind my hands and throw me to the ground. He then drove off towards his home and called in an anonymous tip. I was told the place had been meticulously cleaned, and my body as well. Although it didn’t look like it based on the reports of how they found me, covered in dirt and soil crawling naked in the woods. 

He succeeded in staying away for quite some time, until it was found out that an employee at the park had called in a car blocking one of the exits they would use when packing up in the evening. Turns out he had gotten the license plate and everything, leading straight to him. The only hard evidence, ignoring suspicions, that they had was the fact that I was abducted. They spent months trying to get him to confess to other things, like why my mouth was covered in soap, but it didn’t lead anywhere. I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him with a blank face and total emptiness. I told him a simple goodbye and stood up to walk away, but not before he had time to touch himself and utter “shame you grew up, you were prettier before”. 

Back home there were cop cars surrounding our apartment complex. Much like how it looked in the interview I found from 2010. I carefully sneaked around the back and entered the stairwell from a broken window. I had time to go through all the emotions on my way home from the prison. Crying, anger, regret, even laughing, apparently that’s something that can happen when you get really fucked up mentally. I sneaked up the stairwell so as to not make a sound and alert anyone, and exited to the roof. I sat down in my usual place. Sure I had gone through emotions on the bus, but this was the only place where I could truly feel like myself, like I’m in control of my life, where I can understand myself and how I feel. Something I wasn’t able to figure out was how I felt towards my parents, or the other family for that matter. To hide this from me all my life, and shield myself from any form of entertainment or enjoyment in life. A prisoner. A prisoner in your own family. Because of something I didn’t even choose. I was abused as a child, and the abuse had just kept on coming, taken over by my parents. Below there was a 50 meter drop, and then asphalt. No one would survive a fall that high, that’s for sure.

Ask me how I know.

FIN