THIS LIFE #wattys2015 #JustWriteIt

prologue

>photo of Emma
In October 28, 1997

She was walking home from work. It was late and she didn't feel quite safe walking home at this time of night. She wasn't one to show fear, so she put her bravest face on and continued on her walk.

Noises filled her ears; of the wind softly going through the air, the soft pitter patter of the squirrels on their nightly hunt. Everything was going as usual until the faint sound of dried leaves cracking filled the air. She wasn't much for running, but all the warnings from her parents had taught her enough that she knew to start speeding up. The chase went on for a minute before the predator decided to end this little game of cat and mouse. Before she could keep her ground and attack, she felt this sharp pain in her neck, and her vision started to darken.

1 hour later.

The soft, dim light from the moon was the only way she could see in this dark room. The room was a simple rectangular metal box with the faint smell of cleaning chemicals. There was a small mattress on the floor in the corner of the box far away from the door.

Waking up in a dark room isn't what she expected, she expected to be dead already. The theories in her head ranged from an angry client to some stalker who she wasn't aware of. In her line of work you can't be too cautious.

She managed, after getting some type awareness of the situation, to get on her feet to walk around. She didn't know how much time had passed or what time of day it was but estimated an hour or two has passed. She thought her captor would have come to check on her, but she felt hours tick by before her tiredness consumed her and forced her to sleep on the mattress.

Day 1 of confinement

Waking up, she realized sometime through the night someone had come in to lock the window shut and set up a light in the corner across from the mattress. She didn't feel that great, that small mattress wasn't built for someone of her height.

The sound of the shoot opening and a plastic plate falling through distracted her from her stretch. Running to catch the attention of whoever was on the other side, she quickly gets up and dashes but she doesn't make it. Feeling frustrated and already tired of this game, she starts screaming and hitting the door with all her might. Minutes go on of releasing this anger of her feeling like she could have fought harder, or taken those self defense classes her security company recommended.

Her limbs were aching, and the sound of her hunger was filling the room. She decided that it was better to conserve her energy for the real fight when her kidnapper does come in. She knew it was going to be a long struggle from here on out.

Day 2

Yesterday she thought she had it easy; food being delivered, every few hours they would give her a metal portable toilet. She didn't how long this would go on, but she hoped that she didn't have to go through this for long.

Today she decided that she would make her plan, she didn't know all the variables, but she knew that this was a routine she needed to break. She came up with several strategies, but most of them were garbage so she tried the only one that could possibly work. Disobedience.

The clinking of the door told her that it was breakfast time. She knew they usually came back an hour later to retrieve the empty plate. So she decided to just leave it there, this might be a risky plan, but she knew she had to stick to it to fight for her life.

Hours later

She was getting really tired of staring at the door and waiting to see if her plan was working. She was just about to stop looking at the door, when she saw four feet in the little crack in the door.

This might actually be working she thought.

The door creaked open and in came two guys with machine guns and knives tucked into their knee straps.

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