The Trapped

50

50

- S U T T E R -

11.19.16 // 6:17 a.m.

"SUTTER, HONEY," my mom's sweet, melodic voice says from the other side of my closed door. "Sutter, there was mail for you at the front door. I'll leave it here, I have to get to work. I love you." There is more fumbling outside of my door before everything goes silent again.

I sit in my bed for awhile, my eyes still closed, my breathing even. My hands lay sprawled out against my chest while my heart matches the constant tick-tock coming from my clock.

I flutter my eyes open and look out the window. The sky is a soft blue color, the clouds disappear behind the warm glow of the sunlight streaming into my window and for once, in a long time, I feel at peace. Maybe it's because I have finally accepted the fact that I wasn't going to get Blaire back. It shatters my heart into millions of pieces, but then again, the truth always hurts the most.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed and look lazily around my room. My eyes land on the picture of Blaire that hangs on the wall. Her smile was soft, her brown eyes glimmering. I avert my eyes quickly, feeling the familiar pull in my chest at the sight of her.

I push myself off of the bed, go to the door, and swing it open. On the floor is a journal with a big rock sitting on top of it. I eye it cautiously before bending down to pick both items up. The rock is heavy and damp, the jagged edges pushing into the skin on my hands.

I sit down on the floor and stare at the journal. The material is old, the leather bound around it soft against my fingertips and the pages so delicate that they just might crumble.

I open it and turn to the first page. A letter falls out and flutters in the air for a quick second before landing. My heart begins to thump as I stare at the folded up piece of paper that sits on the floor between my legs. I take a deep breath before picking it up and reading it.

Dear Sutter,

This might be long and overdue, I apologize for that, I know how much you hate reading, but I think you need to read this. God, I feel so stupid writing this, I don't even know why I'm writing this. But, Sutter, you of all people deserve to know the truth.

I know where Blaire is. Funny, right? You're probably thinking, "you're her best friend, what is wrong with you?" I know, but don't judge me just yet.

I want to help you.

First of all, I kept this secret because a long time ago, before I moved to Beverly Hills, I was kidnapped by the same guy that took Blaire. Crazy how things work out, right? I played the role of one of his kids that him and his wife had. At that time, Rose was played by Yvette Rona. You don't understand what this means now, but you will soon, I know it.

The price for being released from him was to work undercover for him, so that's what I did. If I would have told anyone, he would have killed my family. He would have killed you because he knows I'm in love with you. Yes, Sutter, I am desperately in love with you.

But, that's besides the point. There's also something else. The rock you're probably holding in your hand, I used that to kill someone. Someone named Hadley Brown. Yes, I killed her with that rock in my bare hands. But, you have to understand I did it for a good reason. To keep you safe. This was all for you.

Something else, the guy who kidnapped Blaire goes by the name T. You know, for Trapper or something like that. Pretty weird, huh? His real name is Ralph Lopez. Got that? I can't tell you where he lives because what's the fun in that? You must find him on your own, but you're smart, I believe you can do it.

I always believed in you, Sutter.

By the time you have read this, I am long gone from here. Don't think I killed myself like Sarah, no, I am not that weak. Speaking of Sarah, she also has a diary, but I will be taking it with me to keep her secrets safe. I'm reading it now and this one line really stands out. It says: "All roses have their thorns." Why is that so significant you might ask? You will figure it out soon Sutter, I know you can.

Anyway, I simply left our town. I'm going to live somewhere far away from here, so far that no one will know my name by the time the news spreads because I'm highly guessing you will be giving this to the police.

So, I just want to say, thank you Sutter for being a great friend all these years. Thanks for being so lovable and I wish you the best of luck in finding Blaire. Here, in this journal, is my story from when I was kidnapped. Read it so you can know exactly what Blaire is going through.

Maybe it will be some motive for you. Please find her, Sutter, please. I love you, I always have and I will never stop.

Yours truly,

Victoria Anderson

I stare into nothingness, completely dumbfounded with what I just read. Victoria, of all people, lied to me. I shake my head, re-reading the signature again, making sure it is actually her name.

How did I not know? How could she keep this secret from me?

The pressure in my head is slowly increasing. I look down at my beaten-up, bloody hands as the sunlight glimmers in my eyes. I pick up her stupid rock, her murder weapon. I throw it as hard as I can at the wall and hear the satisfying sound of sheet rock crumbling.

I flip through the pages in her diary and there isn't one empty space. I catch glances at some of the words in there and it makes my heart shatter.

He raped me.

Blaire isn't dead.

It was an innocent person is now dead because of me.

I chuck it at my bed and put my head in my hands as a loud cry climbs up my body, getting ready to tear me apart, as if I am nothing but paper.

____________________

please vote and comment! i love to hear your feedback! i will be editing this later so sorry for grammar issues and spelling errors. i love you all!

- jayymckenziee