Blurred Lines.

The Rescue.

I had been in this place for as long as I could remember. Of course, that's a bit dramatic. I've been here exactly three years. 

I knew every crack, every outline, every weakness of this room. I knew how to tell the time of day by the way the sun cast a shadow through the cracks. I knew that I would get food once a week, but I never knew how I was getting it. 

I knew that I was kidnapped, but I didn't know how. I spent many nights trying to recall the moments before I woke up here, but every time I thought I was remembering, I would fall into a panic and would have to quickly clear my mind to focus on something else. 

So, how did I know that I had been locked in this tower for three years to the day? Because I always thought that I would be rescued or dead by this time and I wanted everyone to know how long I had been here. 

And.. I had been here one thousand ninety five days. The walls were lined were notches in the cement. Some were more manic than the others, but I guess that it was easy to loose myself in my insanity.

I think somewhere around the first year I had lost hope to be found. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know why I had been taken. I didn't even know if anyone even cared that I was missing. 

But everyday, I would tell myself that today was the day. I had spent everyday holding on to that thought, until that is, I woke up with a sense of dread. I was going to die. A body couldn't live without adequate sunlight and water. And though water would appear through the night and I was able to stay hydrated, I never seen the shinning sun. 

I had always complained about the summer months. How I hated the sun. It brought me such pain to even think about going out into the sunlight, but now I wanted nothing better than to be in the sun. 

If only I could be granted one more day in the sun shine, I'd never ask for anything else. That was a lie. I had a list of things that I would like to have again. 

Like human interaction. I had a boyfriend, Chase, in high school. I would already be a senior graduating with him. I wondered if he had moved on and if he had a new girlfriend. Someone who he would sneak out for and kiss under the stars. 

I thought about everyone that I had once known. Everyone had influenced me in one way or the other. I missed the school bullies who made me feel worthless. They, at least, had a face and I could spend my days hating them. 

My sleep was always the same. I would fall into a deep sleep a few hours past dark and I would sleep until dawn. I would sleep long and hard. I wouldn't wake up when the person who would bring me water would come by. I wouldn't wake up when they would clean my space or offer me clean clothes. 

I had thought maybe I was being drugged, but that couldn't be possible. I had no set routine. I couldn't be harmed that way. I guess my body just gives out. I get it. 

Dawn had just broke and I got up to go to the bucket that was allowed to be my toilet. At first, the sight of it sickened me, but it soon got easier. Now, many days later, I don't even think twice about it. I'm allowed to properly clean myself and the bucket is either exchanged or cleaned every night. 

I woke up to four water bottles and a snack. My big mean wouldn't come until three more days. A change of clothing was sitting to the side as well. It's always the same thing. Mens pajama pant and a loose sleep shirt. I was given underwear and bras. I rarely wore any of them though, because if no one is going to see me, what purpose is there to wear anything like that? 

I was allowed to be how I wanted to be. Sometimes, I would use the bottles of water to wash myself. I didn't have soap or shampoo for my hair, but once every couple days, there's a mini hotel sized shampoo that is sitting with two extra bottles of water. Someone is allowing me to wash my hair. 

I sat in the same spot for most of the day. On the edge of my bed, recounting all the days that I had been here. There was nothing else to do and to keep my mind from running wild, I would count the notches. 

I would sometimes make up stories in my mind and let them take over my new reality. Chase was waiting for me. Standing at the bottom of my tower, crying up to me and if I could only see outside, I'd see him down there. 

My parents would be with him. They wouldn't be crying or upset. They'd be determined because no one deserves to be separated from their child. 

I had to learn to block my parents from my mind. It made me sick to think about them ringing their hands and worrying themselves to death. It made me sick to think that I would never get to see them again. 

I fell into a sleep later. It consumed me the way that it always does. It's always sudden and so welcoming. Usually my last thought it, maybe this will be the day that I get out of this place. Maybe, I just won't wake up.

Yeah.. maybe I just won't wake up.

But I did. Something startled me. At first, I didn't think about opening my eyes. I had spent all this time down here and nothing has ever startled me the way that whatever had woke me did. 

I lay perfectly still. The room was quiet, but something was off. I rose up slowly, glancing around the room. Nothing. 

But it was too dark to see anything really. 

I took a deep breath and laid myself back down. It's okay. It's just my mind playing tricks on me. 

But it wasn't. The door that I didn't even know I had was kicked open. I let out a squeal and pulled the blanket up to my chin. 

A red figure entered the room. He was walking towards me and reached his hands out to me. 

"You need to follow me." He said. Through the hood I could see my own reflection. I looked awful. My hair was a nest. I was pale. I was dying. I was going to die. Maybe that's what this is. 

Maybe I'm dying. 

"Look, I'm here to rescue you, but I can't do that if you don't get up and help me." He snapped at me. For an angel, he surely is rude. 

Maybe he's not an angel. Maybe it's the demons. I've been very bad in life. Guess that's what it is. I'm dying and going to hell. 

"Look at me." He said and I do. I couldn't see beyond the red helmet though. 

"I'm going to take you out of here. Just hang on to me, okay?" He said and scooped me into his arms. I didn't protest. I didn't fight it. I let him.

Because I knew in that moment that I was going to be okay. I didn't know who this guy was, but if he made it a habit of tracking down kidnapped children, then fine. 

I'd trust him with my life.