No way out

Lonely days

"What is your name?" A deep voice demanded.
I opened my eyes although I could see nothing. It was so dark in the room, the only light was a small circle of daylight that crept through the lock in the door. It was cold. It didn't feel like I was in a room, it felt like I was in a shed, or garage. I laid on what felt like leather, I had just presumed it was a couch.
I left his question unanswered, and tried to lift up my head but it felt too heavy. I then felt the dry blood that was left from above my eyebrow all the way down to beside me lips. Still unable to see my surroundings, he asks again.

"What is your name?" This time a little harsher.
"Sarah" I don't know why but, without thinking, my mouth lied.
"Sarah what?" I felt him getting closer.
"Jones". By mistake I told him my real last name.
It wasn't the first time I lied about my name. To new people that I would probably never see again, my name was Sarah. I always dreamed of naming my daughter Sarah, just because I loved the name. I hated the name Andy. It's a boys name. I had always asked my mom why she named me this, she told me that the doctors prepared my mom and dad for a boy, and the name the chose was Andy, to their shock, I was a girl. But they loved me anyway. At this point I hadn't really thought about my parents. My mind has been so confused and dazed that I haven't really thought about anything.

"Sarah Jones. Your a pretty little girl aren't you?" I stayed silent. I still couldn't see a thing, Until a flashlight blinded me. All I could see was the light coming from the bulb, I couldn't even see the man.
"Are you scared?" He asked softly.
"No"
"Good, because me and you are going to be friends. Your not afraid of friends are you?"
"No"
"Ok then. Let's get to know each other a little better, shall we?" He sat down and turned the flashlight around to show his face.
He was a brown haired man, he had glasses and side burns. It's not a man I've seen before. He had a crazy look in his eyes that frightened me even more. He sat down on the floor beside the couch I laid on, and I sat up.

"My name is Phil. I am 43 years old and I was born in here in California. Now you have to tell me about you". It was like he was telling me about himself, so I would tell him about myself. Like he was trying to trick me into giving him information. But I was smarter than that.
"My name is Sarah. I am 11 years old". I stopped there.
"Is that it, that's all you gotta tell me?"
I stayed silent.
"Tell me about your family"
"I'm an only child so there isn't much to tell". I had thought about it, I didn't want to tell him there was other kids in my house, that could just put them in danger.

He didn't say anything for a couple moments, this gave me the impression that he knew I was lying. So I changed the subject.
"Why were you parked outside my house all day?"
"To collect you, silly" I felt his hand push my blonde hair out of my face and stroke it.
"Why me?" A cold shiver went down my spine.
"Because your just so beautiful. Your blonde hair and blue eyes. Your smile. There was no one else I wanted".
A tear flowed down my face as I was extremely uncomfortable. "Please stop" I slowly pushed his hands away from my face.
He stood up sharply and stormed off. He opened a large, shed door and slammed it closed, and locked it behind him.

I got up and ran towards the door and threw my body against it. I cried out for help, but there was no reply, not a sound, not even a car drive along the road or a bird singing. The only sound was my breath, and my own voice in my head asking myself 'why me' over and over.
He had left his torch in here, so I used it to be aware of my surroundings.
It was definitely an abandoned shed, although if wasn't the warehouse that he brought me to last night, that was a lot bigger. This was about the size of my kitchen back home. The floor filled itself with old junk and dirty cloths, graffiti all over the walls, there was even a bit of scratch marks and those signs people use when the count the days. That gave me the feeling that I wasn't the first person he had kidnapped. If they aren't here, where are they?.

The thought of what he had done to people previous to me made my body numb. I walked back over to the couch and laid down in a ball, and cried repeatedly.

-----
 
A few days had passed, and he hadn't come back yet. My mouth was dry, my stomach was empty and my head was sore.
I had no energy to get up anymore, as over the past few days all I've been doing is shouting for help and trying to break the door down.
The battery in the torch has gone, so I was back to seeing nothing. I stared into space as I thought about how I was going to die. Dying of starvation and dehydration wasn't the way I thought about dying before. When I was younger, I thought everyone died when they turned 50, but dying just meant falling alseep forever.

But I recently learned, that people died of different things, at different times. My older brother told me that when I asked him if mom or dad will die first. When he told me everything dies in different ways, I didn't believe him. So I asked dad and he told me it was true. And that people can die at any age at any cause. He then promised me I would die when I'm an old lady, and that I've plenty a life to live. I guess not everyone can keep a promise. So from then on I just assumed I was going to die when I'm old and ready, I never thought it would be in an old shed.

I regained hope of survival when Phil walked in with a plate and a glass.
"Are you hungry?" He asked.
"Yea"
"Good because I brought you a hot dinner made by my momma" he turned on a switch that lit up the whole room, a switch that I would have used if I had seen it. He brought be the food on a tray with a glass of water.
I had ate it a lot quicker than intended, as he sat and watched me eat it. If I wasn't so hungry, I would have felt more uncomfortable.

After I was done, he took the empty plate and left, without saying a word. After he left, I thought for a moment. 'The dinner was hot, that must mean I'm near his house, and if his mom just made the dinner, that must mean his mom is in the house'. After my sudden realisation that his mother could help me, I jumped up and started shouting.
"Help me! Somebody please help me!" I shouted and shouted, still no reply.

A couple moments after I had stopped as I felt I was just wasting energy that could come in handy, Phil stormed in.
"What the hell was that all about? My mother could have heard you? I haven't exactly told her about you yet. I was going to introduce you to her tomorrow but I don't think I can if your going to be yelling unnecessarily".
"No, I'm sorry I don't know what I was thinking, I'm sorry I'd love to meet your mother". I pleaded, I thought that she could help me.
"Oh alright, I'll call her tomorrow" he smiled.

"Wait, has your mom ever met any of the other girls that you brought here?"
For all I know she could be a psychopath too.
"Nope, I'm almost sure she'll like you as much as I do". He smiled and turned to leave. He was treating me as if I was his girlfriend for something.
"Wait, I don't think I'm ready to meet your mom, not yet". I had a sudden feeling she was as crazy as he was.
"Sure you are, ok bye". He left before I could get another word in.