So I wrote this on Jaycee Lee Dugard's captivity, and what i thought she must of been was thinking, ect. So, read it! and tell me what you think. it's long and there are some mistakes but, once you really get into reading the words, you won't notice how long it is, trust me.
If you dont know Jaycees story yet, here were the basics: A girl named Jaycee got Kidnapped(back in 1991) while at the bus stop one morning and she was held captive by a man named Phillip Garrido for 18 years. From my 3 days of research i learned that he rapped Jaycee(becoming the father of her 2 children) who grew up thinking that Jaycee was their sister, not their mother, he also used poor Jaycee as a sex slave and kept her living in her backyard. and to say the least this man and his wife Nancy disgusted me when i heard about all this and once i heard i couldn't stop reading more and more about it. I tried to imagine what happened behind the fences of that mans house and how Jaycee must of felt and so, i wrote my thoughts and just couldn't stop typing. Please read. I would love to get some feed back. I took the facts i had and added emotions and dialogue and i hope it does her story justice. My heart and words go out to Jaycee, her two children, and her loved ones So, here's my version of Jaycee Lee Dugards captivity.Please leave feedback.
The Things We Hide Behind Closed Eyes.
We all know it happens. We hear it on the news reports and read it in articles. We feel a hint of sorrow for those who lived through it, or didn’t. But we can never understand it, never really comprehend, how one can be so cruel, so cold, and so heartless. We hear horrible stories and are left to imagine the fear in the victim’s eyes. The younger we are the harder it gets to be aware of what can happen out there, what does happen out there. Until you live it, you don’t know, you don’t understand. Would you be willing to put yourself in my shoes? Could you live everyday with constant worry and fear? Waking up one day and questioning whether this day will be your last or if someone is going to come rescue you and make it all better? Can it be made all better? No. It cannot. I’ve seen thing that I cannot un-see, heard words that one would never imagine they would hear, discovered fears I never knew I had and having the realization, that I cannot overcome these fears, as I’m forced to live with them every day of my life. I am Jaycee Lee Dugard, I am now 29 years old, and this is my story, behind the fences.
It was June 10, 1991, a day I remember so vividly but wish I could just forget. I was standing at the bus stop, with some other kids just waiting for the bus so, I could go to school. I was in the fifth grade. But, little did I know that I would never finish the fifth grade with my classmates and never attend any public school again, as two people in a gray car pass by and then quickly made a U-turn at the bus stop and the woman, with a attempt for a pleasant worrisome smile, sitting in the passenger seat grabbed me quickly with the tightest grip, and I tried so hard to pull away and make her let go as I yelp but, eventually she forced me into the backseat. Scared beyond what any words could describe, all I could do was scream. I wanted to yell help, I really did and I tried, but my brain, so confused, muffled, and numb, I couldn’t find the strength to get the words out of my mouth; all I could do was scream. My step father at the house, not far from the bus stop could see me being captured and quickly grabbed my bike, the closest thing to him, and frantically rode it, trying so hard to catch up to me in the vehicle but the speed at which these two scary people were going, was too fast to keep up with on a tiny little bike. I turned around, eyes balling with tears, looked through the foggy window, as it was still early in the morning, and watch my step fathers face, slowly disappear as I was being driven away, and each mile we drove, that was further away from my home, my life, and my element, I lose more and more hope that I will be saved.
We’ve been driving for only an hour, but to me it seems like forever. I dread to speak for the first hundred miles in fear of what I knew but, was scared to hear them say if I spoke, so I just sit, in the backseat, shaking in silence. Worried, scared, and contemplating what’s going happen next? Then he speaks. This mysterious man who I, at the time, do not have any idea what he wants with me, speaks. His words at first sounded almost like gibberish because I had so much going on in my head, it took me a few minutes after he spoke to process what he had said, let alone the response I should give him, after all I was fearful of these people and what will happen to me. You see this was something I had heard a lot about, kidnappings. There were small assemblies held at Meyers Elementary School, where I attended and there were speakers who came and talked about what can happen out in the ‘real world’. I listened and understood quite well what the guest speakers were saying, but I never expected it would happen to me. I never once imagined I would be thrown into an old gray car, and awaited this man to speak and for me to hear my fate—or what these two people wanted me for. I was incapable of thinking it could happen to me, I didn’t necessarily think it was invincible just unconscious to the reality that it was possible. I thought long and hard about what he had said before I responded, “everything will be okay, you don’t have to be scared Jaycee.” I was speechless for a response. I couldn’t think of anything other than that I should be at school learning the state capitols and getting this week’s spelling words and that when the day was over I would be picked up by a big school bus, in the pre-summer sun, happy, safe, and having fun, awaiting the drop off to where I could walk right down the street and be home with my family and telling mama about my day. That’s what’s all running through my brain. How could this man with a deep compelling voice, try and convince me it will all be okay when I’m not where I should be, when nothing is okay. The tone of his voice held so much respect, love, and compassion; I came to believe that what he said was sincere. Although I was still frightened as to what might happen to me because I knew what can happen. I’ve heard plenty of stories, of those held as hostage, those who get rape, those who hear threat after threat, and it makes them all the more strained, those feared by the disincentive and hope they will be saved, those who are murdered, and found, those who weren’t found. Those who live the life of a lie. What case am I? Will I die? All these thoughts floating in clusters around in my head. As I open my mouth to respond, all I can say is, “Who are you? And how do you know my name?” As I spoke these words, my voice cracked as silent tears fall down my face, no wines or loud cries, just silence. He does not answer. The rest of the trip is hushed until the car stops.
