The Taking

Chapter Three

Jessica Hollenbrooke

I am startled awake. I look around my room but no one else is in the room with me. The only sound I hear is coming from my cd player. I grab my taser and look under the bed and in all the closets to make sure I am alone. I sit back down on the edge of my bed and throw my taser across the room.

I hate this. My therapist told me it was going to take time to get over everything that happened, I just wish I would stop seeing his face or hearing his voice. I haven't had a good night's sleep for weeks. When I start to fall asleep I see his face. Sometimes I can even smell him. It was a mix between sweat, gasoline and something that had rotted. He had me in an old rundown gas station off of route 17. I shudder as I think of what happened there.

I move towards the mirror in my room. I look at the pictures that hang on my mirror and the girl in the picture seems foreign to me. I don't know that girl anymore. I was taken for only a week but so much changed in that one little week. It crushes me every time I think of it. My hand moves toward my hair or what is left of it. It use to go down to the middle of my back but now it is just above my shoulder. When they found me I had a tar like substance in my hair that they couldn't remove so I had to chop it off. I stare at myself for what seems like to be eternity. I try to remember how I was before all this happened. I have been home for 2 weeks and I still feel like I am living in someone else's skin. He took that from me and he is still out there.

I grab an old yearbook and flip to a page that has been earmarked. My eyes move toward the bottom of the page. Brandon Westford. He looked normal enough, dirty blonde hair with hazel eyes. He was a scholarship kid and was sort of an outcast. We had been going to school together ever since kindergarten. We were friends in grade school but once middle school hit we went down different paths. I took the path that led me to popularity and he took the path that led him to...well I'm not sure what path he took but whatever it was it led him to take me.

He took me that night leaving from Rodney's house. Jerry had asked me if I wanted him to walk me home but I thought I would be safe considering Rodney's house was only a block away from mine; silly me to think that I was safe. When he grabbed me I thought it was Jerry playing a joke. I let out a little squeal but quickly realized that it wasn't Jerry at all. I tried to scream but he covered my mouth and whispered "Scream all you want, nobody is going to help you now." The next thing I knew I was getting thrown into a trunk. I tried to break out of the trunk even got close to it too. I kicked down the back seat and escaped from the trunk only to get hit in the head by a bat. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to shake off my memory.

A knock at the door brings me back to reality. I quickly close the yearbook and push it under my bed.

"Jessica. Are you almost ready? The reporters are going to be by at any moment." My mom gives me a once over as she walks in my room.

"Please don't tell me that is what you are going to wear. We are going to be on T.V. telling our story." She starts to walk to the closet to pick out something more presentable.

"Our story? Last time I checked it was my story, they are coming to interview me or am I mistaken? Were you kidnapped and kept in an old gas station too?" Angry starts to rise inside me.

Ever since I have been home she has been on the phone trying to get T.V. stations to come interview me. I didn't even want to talk about. I wanted to forget about it but she had other plans. She claims that this story will bring hope to anyone that has gone through what I went through and to their family but I heard her tell my aunt that it was good publicity for my father's firm.

"Do not start Jessica. This is very important to the family...for closure. My nerves have already been on edge just thinking about this interview, don't make it worse."