Stockholm Syndrome

01: Introductions

01: Introductions

Just so you know, when someone grabs you from behind, blinds you, gags you, and knocks you out, it isn't like what you see in the movies. It doesn't 'happen so fast you don't have time to process.' No. At least, not for me. For me, time slowed down. But maybe it was because I noticed the details a lot in life. I knew it was a man who had grabbed me, his hand was too big to be a woman's. I knew he knew what he was doing. I knew that was bad for me. Even with the blindfold on, I could picture some of his body features. He had toned arms. He was strong was what I concluded as he threw me over his shoulder. He definitely had long legs because I felt the elevation from being up so high. And he had facial hair because when I actually landed a slap to his face, I felt the rough texture of it on his cheek. He grunted.

Also, another inaccurate thing in movies. The drugs don't knock you out right away. It was only when I felt my head bang against the seat of a car and the man mutter a raspy 'drive' that I fell asleep.

But something the movies do get right is that everything is blurry when you first wake up. My blindfold was off but I had something gagging my mouth and my arms were tied behind my back. And the other thing the movies apparently get right, or maybe it was just my 'luck;' the kidnapper looks pretty flawless. His eyes were blue, green mixed in like the ocean. His black hair was in a quiff, standing straight atop his head. He had a minimal amount of hair growing on his sharp jawline and barely any around his lips. His chin was the same length as his cheeks. Peach fuzz... Ish. I had guessed right. Long legs and toned arms. But I hadn't been able to take in the icy eyes that penetrated my soul. And terrified me out of my mind.

 All of these realizations came to me in a split second when I woke up on a bed to see him sitting in a chair, staring at me. I let out a muffled scream, realizing I'd done none of that as the kidnapping was taking place. Another thing movies get wrong. And then I backed as far into the headboard of the bed as I could get. I realized how stupidly cliché that was after I had done it. It wasn't like backing up was going to stop him if he wanted to get to me. I was tied up and as far as I could see, he was free to move as he pleased. With my off balance and unavailable limbs, he would have the advantage. He would have the advantage anyway because of the length of his legs. And, yet another thing movies get wrong, I don't somehow, miraculously, have the advantage of ten years of track from school to help me outrun him.

I did, however, feel as sick as they portray in films. Probably worse. I started to try to talk but I couldn't with the cloth around my mouth. I kept repeating the same thing over and over, hoping he would hear the pattern and understand I was trying to communicate. By this point, tears were streaming down my face and I was visibly shaking and couldn't stop. My whole nose and upper lip were vibrating and my eyes stung because of the fact that I was exhausted. The man stared at me but soon moved towards me slowly. I stopped repeating my words and couldn't help but scream when he leaned over me to take the gag off. I cut myself off as he worked the knot and whimpered at him. I stared at him but my heart beat even faster when our eyes met and he stared at me again. I stared at my kidnapper, refusing to let myself decide that his eyes were anywhere near the beauty I would categorize them in for an everyday stranger. He gently pulled the handkerchief out of my mouth. I tried to take a deep breath but it made me feel even more nauseous.

"Do you have my purse?" I gasped out. I always kept them in my purse. He nodded slowly. "The hidden zipper on the inside." I instructed. Keep in mind I was trying not to throw up. These sentences did not come out very neatly. They came out either extremely fast, or with huge gasps in between words. And my words were muddled because of how hard I cried and how violently I shook. I waited to hear his voice. To hear him question me. But he complied. He knew he had the power and it wouldn't be a weapon I was exposing. He pulled out the only thing I keep in that pocket. My pills. For anxiety. I waited for him to read the label and then he understood. He unscrewed the lid.

"How many do you need?" He asked. His voice was deep. Clear but husky at the same time. Terrifying. "How many do you need?" He repeated as I gasped for breath. I held up two trembling fingers. "Two." He said to himself. "Do you need water?" I shook my head.

"I just... need my pills." I said in between a breath. My voice was weak. He nodded. Holding my head in one large hand, he stilled me. I hadn't realized I was dodging away from him before he brought his hand up to stop me. He put one in my mouth, let me swallow it, and then repeated. Immediately after he let go of my chin I broke into another bout of sobs.

"This isn't normally how introductions go." I cut him off from trying to make this even remotely funny.

"Nothing about this is going to be normal."

"I'm Luke." He told me.

"You think I'm telling you my name?" I asked incredulously.

"Madeline Rose." He said. To that response I just began crying again. And he let me. And so I cried. And cried. And cried.