oak trees // misfits

H I D E

tw: dark topics

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jay thought he could get away from him. he thought that even being miles away from where it happened he'd be safe. he could finally leave the house without fear following him. oh how wrong he was.

it was a normal night. jay was walking home from his friend's house after a hang out. it was late and his parents were already asleep. everyone else was staying the night, but jay knew he wasn't as fun as the others. he didn't want to ruin anything. cam insisted he stayed and a lot of people wanted him to stay too. but he decided to walk home.

the boy noticed the car that seemed to be following him. but he shrugged it off, they were probably just headed in the same direction. maybe it was a neighbor, even though he didn't recognize the car.

the sun was already gone when jay left cam's home. it was times like these he wished he had a phone so it wouldn't be so dark.

when jay realized the car had been following him for far too long he decided to take a short cut through the graveyard. it would take 5 minutes off the walk home anyways.

yet the car followed him onto the dirt road. and this is when jay started running. this was his first mistake.

asthma, jay's worst enemy. it caused him to slow down or else he would pass out. his father always told him to take his inhaler with him everywhere just in case but he thought it was ridiculous. his lungs began to burn and breathing became harder. the car was so close to him. and once jay stopped running the car also stopped. and a man popped out from the drivers seat.

"you okay kid?" jay's stomach dropped. he already didn't trust this guy the moment those words left his mouth.

"um, yeah just fine actually."

"get in. i'll give you a ride home." the man smiled. not a nice smile though, a dangerous one.

"no its okay. my house isn't to far from here." this was jay's second mistake, refusing the guys offer.

suddenly a gun was pulled out from the car and pointed straight at jay. he froze, looking at the shining black metal.

"get in." the guy spoke in a demanding tone. when jay was close enough to the car the gun came down to the back of his. making his eyes fall shut.

when jay woke up, the first thing he noticed was how cold it was. goosebumps ran up his entire body and he shivered. the second thing he noticed was the tight restrictions on his wrist and ankles. and looking down he could see they were tied to together. the third thing jay noticed was how when he screamed it was muffled, duck tape most likely.

it was so dark in that room, jay still remembers the fear that coursed through him. burying itself in his blood.

the boy doesn't want to remember the next month and a half of being stuck in that tiny room and forced to do things. he doesn't want to remember the people that came in and would do the same things his kidnapper would do. he doesn't want to remember any of it at all. yet every little thing reminds him of that month and a half. that vase of flowers in the restaurant he just went to with friends looked like the one his kidnapper shattered on the floor and cut jay's cheek with afterwards. the colors blue , red, purple, black, yellow, and even green remind him of the bruises and cuts he'd end up having almost every night. everything was now tied to that month, everything.

it took jay three months to leave his own house. most days he sat inside with tears streaming down his cheeks. staring at the wall and remember that month and a half. he'd try to sleep, but every time jay closed his eyes his kidnapper would flash in front of him. three months were taken away from him because for a month and a half he rotted away in that tiny room by himself.

now, jay stares frozen at the guy that held him captive. his friends seem to have continued walking on. he thought for sure they had caught the man, locked him away so he could turn into nothing behind bars.

but as someone shook jay's shoulders the kidnapper disappeared. jay batted his eyes in confusion and turned to look at his friend.

"you okay jay?"

the boy simply nodded before following his friends, glancing back at the spot the man once stood.

-

dear everyone,

im sorry i couldn't be who everyone wanted me to be. im sorry i couldn't get over the trauma that happened to me almost three years ago.

im a victim.

it has taken me to long to become at peace with that sentence. i never wanted to admit it to myself because that would make what happened to me a reality i wasn't ready for. im ready for it now.

the year after the incident i spent hiding. i was afraid to leave the house alone and almost never left unless forced. im sorry to my friends, who always tried to get me out of the house to help me. i didn't leave often.

for the second year after the incident i spent time in a mental hospital. everyone was certian i had gone insane. i'd claim i had seen him when it was really a figure if my imagination. i was so afraid of seeing him in public i actually began to see him.

for the third year i spent it at therapy and rehab. because i had began to use drugs as a coping mechanism and it was driving my life down hill fast. thank god my friends cared enough to force me there.

but now, as i write this letter tears fill my eyes because i know whats next. by now im probably standing on top of that bridge looking down at the rushing water. or im sitting in the bathroom with a hand full of anti-depressants. the therapy didn't help, the hospital didn't help. im still the same broken kid i was three years ago. whoever is reading this is too late. im sorry, im gone.

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