Not Far (Completed)

Bad Dreams

BAD DREAMS

Ezra's POV

I sat on the couch of the cramped trailer. It was hot. And quiet. Soundproofed. If I screamed, no one would hear me. I'd tried that one too many times. My throat constantly hurt from trying, hoping someone would hear me and free me from the hell I was living. Sometimes I pretended someone did find me. Someone would bust down the six locks on the trailer door and find me sitting there. They would ask me if I was okay and hold me. Bring me outside. But it never happened. It had been ten years and no one came for me.

The locks on the trailer door rattled. I knew he was back. The man. The man who caused all of this. The man who ruined my life and kept me hostage in the disgusting trailer. He walked in. In a black hoodie and a back-ski mask. I'd never seen his face. He kept his identity a secret. I only saw his eyes. And heard his voice. I didn't even see his hands. They were always clothed in leather gloves.

When he saw me sitting on the couch, he stopped. "What are you doing, Ezra?" He asked. I hated that. He was nice to me. He made conversation with me. But I couldn't ever bring myself to talk to him. I couldn't answer his questions. He made me sick just looking at him. He was evil.

He never hurt me. He took care of me. He fed me, gave me the only bed in the trailer. But he locked me in every night so I couldn't escape. He gave me paper and nice pencils to draw with. I didn't get why he kidnapped me. I didn't know what he wanted with me. If it wasn't to hurt or torture me, why would he take me? Take me away from my life. My family. I asked him once, but he didn't answer me. He just told me to eat my cereal and eggs.

"Screw you." Was my response to his question. Asking me what I was doing. What did it look like to him? I was staring off into space.

"Come on, are we not past this?" He walked in front of me, blocking my view of the wall. He was tall. And muscular from what I could tell. I looked up and glared at him as nastily as I could. He held his hands up in surrender and walked off into the bathroom. I leaned back on the couch and sighed. How had my life come to this? What did I ever do wrong to make the universe torture me with this life? I'll tell you how it started.

Ten years ago. My mom finally gave me permission to walk home alone. She was always a freak about that. She would be one of the only moms to show up at the bus stop and walk me home like a dog. I had always hated it. She told me I could walk home one day because she had a hair appointment. May 21st2004, at 3:32 PM, I was walking home. I remember I was admiring the trees. I always liked trees. They were so interesting to me. Anyways, I was walking home, minding my own business. I started to feel like someone was following me. I turned around a couple times, but no one was there. No one was around. Not a person in sight. I began to get nervous. I was creeped out. I held my notepad harder with each step I took. On the way to my house, you have to pass the park. There's a parking lot right next to it, but there's never any cars there because people just walk to it. As I powerwalked home, I noticed a shiny black car in the lot. It was strange. I'd never seen that car before. I noticed how new it looked. I decided that I would take a detour and try to sketch it out a little bit. I would shade it in and color it later. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity. It looked expensive. As I approached the car, I flipped open my notepad to a clean page and set my backpack down to pull out a pencil. As I was searching through my bag, I heard a deep voice behind me that caused me to jump a little and fall to my knees.

"Hello, Ezra." The voice said. Before I could look up to see who it was, a large hand was cupped over my mouth, and the other one gripped my waist. I started to try to scream, but nothing came out except muffled noises. I kicked and struggled, but the grip on me was not loosening. My eyes were screwed shut from the screaming, so I didn't see it, but I heard a trunk open. I began to panic. I had no idea what was happening to me. My body was gently laid down in the trunk on top of what felt like, pillows. Then the trunk door slammed shut. It was dark. By body was shaking. I started to hyperventilate. I hit the top of the trunk over and over, but nothing happened. I tried screaming at the top of my lungs, but I doubted anyone heard me. There was no one around. I couldn't see anything. I felt the car start to move. I started to cry and scream "help" over and over. I did this until the car finally stopped. I wasn't keeping track, but it was about thirty minutes.

When the trunk opened, the light nearly blinded me. When my eyes adjusted, I saw him. The man. Standing over me in a black ski mask and a hood. All I saw were his eyes. Dark brown eyes. I started to scream again, but the man shushed me and picked me up. I kicked and wailed, but as I observed my surroundings, I could see we were in the middle of nowhere. I was slung over his shoulder as he walked up to what looked like a silver trailer. It took him almost five minutes to unlock it. When he finally did, he stepped inside with me still on his shoulder. That's when it all began.

Ezra woke up from a dream and sat up quickly. He dreamed he was back in the trailer. And the man started to take off his mask and reveal his identity. But he woke up before he could see the face. Ezra started to become more and more obsessed with who the man was. He needed to know.

He got up and went over to his desk and took out all his drawings. And the one of the man. He sat in the chair at the desk and studied it. Every detail of the face. Ezra glanced at the printer and copy machine in the corner of the room. He pressed the "on" button and stuck his drawing in the copier.

Five minutes later, 70 copies of the drawing were made. Warm paper sitting in the tray. Ezra sat down at the desk and took out a marker and started writing on each one; "Have you seen this man? Call (919)464-2942."

When he was finished, he slipped on his shoes and threw on a jacket and headed out the door.

He started in his neighborhood. He tacked several of the pictures up on trees and stop signs. Then, he made his was downtown. Plastering them on windows of shops, light poles, the sides of stores. Everywhere there was an empty space, he wanted people to see his poster. When he ran out of paper, he headed home. He hoped to God he would get a call soon. He kept his phone ringer on and held onto it tightly as he walked home in the dark.

When Ezra got home, he sat on his bed. Well, couch. He thought about Piper. How he missed her. He missed seeing her face and hearing her laugh. She made him happy. And now, he would never see her again. It made him sad to think about, so he thought of something else and drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day. Hopefully it would be better.