The Darkness of The Light

Your average girl

I started out just like you, which I know may be hard to believe, seeing as I'm the main character in this story, but I was born from a nice family, in a nice city. I had all A's, and I was a complete teacher's pet. I loved the attention. I was THAT kid - The one with the perfect life, but one day, it was all gone. I remember every detail. I was going to my class, when someone, in a hoodie, beckoned me over. Being just a seven year old, I didn't think of the possibilities, or the danger. I couldn't see their face because of their thick black hood, but there was an odd feeling to this person. They never uttered a word, but they motioned to me that they needed some help getting something from their car. Although I had never met someone like this, I figured they were someone's older sibling, or some kind of teacher's aid. They only seemed to be a few years older than me, but I was naive and believed that there was no evil in the universe to be used against me. We soon reached a car that shone in the sun as though it was recently waxed, expensive metal meeting blinding light, and giggled, squinting at my distorted reflection. The person beckoned me to the trunk, I took a few steps towards them, and that's where the memory stops. I woke up some time later in the pitch black, all alone. That's where I've been, for years.

I'm yanked from my subconscious by a dish gently hitting me in the leg and a door closing. My fingertips graze the inside to see what I've been "blessed" with. Bread and bologna, balanced carefully upon a bowl of water. I feel like a dog, my master ever so graciously feeding me his table scraps after I've begged for them throughout his meal. At least dogs get to go outside, smell the air, see the sunshine. I can't remember what grass looks like anymore. I eat my lunch slowly, savoring the salty-sweet taste of the meat against the bland, nearly flavorless bread. I'm sure someone, somewhere would appreciate this meal, but I've had this meal every day for so long that it's all but lost every ounce of appeal. I can barely recall the taste of anything else. The water slips like tasteless molasses down my throat, and I slide the dish back in the direction from which it came. The door opens and closes once more, and I assume the bowl has been retrieved. I feel around until I find the wall closest to me and slowly lean my back against it, breathing in the stale, damp air of the room. I've come to the conclusion that the room I'm trapped in was meant to be some kind of boiler room, but never got the boiler part. The muffled sound of voices coming from behind my head pulls my attention from the nothingness around me. Having been trapped in utter darkness, my other senses have come to make up for it. I press my ear to the wall for clearer sound.

"There have been rumors for years now that you have someone held here against their will." A gruff male voice explains.

Another male, one I hear often, sighs, "Sir, as I've said before, I would never do something so evil. It's against everything I stand for." 

Even after all this time, it still surprises me that this man can so easily lie to these people and not feel a twang of guilt. I let out a sigh, the sound of my breath making me jump. The visitor asks to look around, and after a moment of shuffling exploration, leaves, not having found anything suspicious. Over the years, I've come to the realization that the door to this room is rather hard to find.