I Will Remeber All Your Names

The Silence Hurts.

The good thing about being a optimistic pessimist is knowing I can handle the pain my kidnappers are most likely going to give me with a smile, simply because I have been abused my entire life.

Well not physically so to most it is not even actual abuse. Let me tell you a thing or two, when you are broken down so much that you hurt yourself then thats bad, and I'm not saying mental and emotional abuse is worse than physical because damm I'm sorry if someone is physically abusing you, I can only imagine what that must be like.

I can say though that the abuse I went through made me numb so i want physical pain.

No.

I need it.

I crave pain constantly at this point and if I had to look Death in the eyes right now, I would give him my sweetest smile.

So that's why when I was dragged over gravel, by my feet, and thrown on the tile floor of what I assume is a house, I was calm and utterly still.

I did not fight, the will for fighting left me long ago so I just went along with whatever my kidnapper did without making a single noise.

It's something of a habit I guess, to go mute. I find that people don't like it when you aren't reacting to their abuse and then there is two options.

One.
It gets worse. This one happens the first few times you react like this, or at least from what I have experienced. They scream, they threaten everything that makes you happy, that makes you...you.

Two.
They break. They cry or throw a tantrum. They blame you for everything. They get upset because you don't care about them and how you aren't reacting how they wanted you to so now you are the bad guy.

Usually I experience these two together simply because I was raised by a bipolar narsasist.

My silence scares them the most because now they don't know me anymore. They don't know what I love so they can't take it away. They don't know what I do so they feel left out, lost. They don't know who I am or what my limit is.

My kidnapper is at stage number one.

The hair on my scalp is tearing out as he draggs me a little further to who knows where until I get thrown down again, a little harsher than necessary if you ask me.

"Are you going to squeal for me?" Says my kidnapper as a kick slams into my stomach. He kicks me again and damm that hurts. "She must still be out then, hmmp, that's no fun then."

His shoes squeak when he turns to leave and that is when I decide to play my card, making him stop dead in his tracks.

I let out a little giggle, as innocent and carefree as that of a child seeing a butterfly for the first time.