Muted

Chapter 29

After watching Angie's and Dillon's continuous personality changes over the last few days trapped here, I've learned how to handle almost every change that they didn't know how to cope with.

Angie's anger, give her a pillow. Dillon's anger, just sit and pretend you know why he's angry to clam him down. Angie's sadness, just a hug will do. Dillon's sadness, leave him alone.

I've learned to combat every change that came with their brainwashing. And once they woke up I got as much information off of them that I could.

I quickly learned when they wake up that it was nothing but fear and trauma. I also learned that their are twelve rooms in the house, and the safest escape was through the kitchen and up the stairs into his parents bedroom.

Their room was the only room with a phone. Turns out, upon my arrival, his father had smashed my phone to pieces. But even then, a phone wasn't enough help. We needed a door, or a tunnel, or something!

Every time they woke up, they tried pretending they were still brainwashed, but his parents would always know when they were awake and torture them back into their trust.

I've even watched his parents force them to fight each other. Sometimes weapons would even be involved.

Is this what Angie meant by he was abusive? And even then that had me really questioning: how long have they actually been here? How long have they actually been apart of this torture? I had a weird feeling that it was a lot longer than the five months that they've been missing.

Later that afternoon, his parents left and kept Dillon in charge. I knew they left him in charge because Angie was close to her next awakening and Dillon's control had just been put to rest a few hours before. And they were definitely not putting me in charge because I quickly learned that they weren't sure if I was actually brainwashed by their ways or not. Apparently, I only knew the answer to that, which was—no. I was not brainwashed.

After they were out the door, I stood up from my place on the couch and asked to be excused to the bathroom.

You see, I had a plan all made out. His parents just needed to leave before it was in motion. And today was my lucky day.

I made my down the hall to the bathroom. And opened the door, feeling it vibrate with a nasty squeak. I looked around to make sure Dillon not Angie could see me before never entering and closing the door.

I learned that a lot of doors here squeaked, so I would use them to my advantage to make it seem like I was going somewhere I actually wasn't.

I tiptoed as quietly as possible towards the kitchen and opened a drawer they never really used. I then searched for a knife they also didn't really use. Trust me when I say that sometimes if it's your life on the line, you start to pay attention to things you never would've thought about in your everyday life.

I hid the hid the long sharp knife in my pants then slowly made my way back to the living room, not before stopping at the bathroom to open the door again so they would think I was actually in there.

I walked back into the living room and cautiously sat back down onto the springy sofa and watched the two pull out a game or monopoly. This is probably not going to end well.

After watching them play for an hour or so, I tapped Dillon on the shoulder and attempted to sign that I was tired. It took a minute before he realized what I was trying to say and when he finally understood, he just nodded.

I went up stairs into the room that held me captive since I've been here, and started pressing on the floor boards until I could find the one that was out of place. When I found it, I crouched to the ground and slowly and carefully removed the board. I took the knife out of my pants and hid it with a bunch of other stuff I found.

I found a map to try and figure out where to go once we leave, I found a pair of car keys for the extra car that was never used, and a small gas can with gas in it.

The gas can was just in case the car had no gas, or if the car was broken completely I would start a fire in this room—but for that I needed to get my hands on his mother's matches.

And the knife was more so for in case I actually needed to defend myself. I was the only young one here that hasn't had to really defend myself because they were never certain if I was buying into their game or not.

I put the board back into the floor, making sure it matched up perfectly before getting into the bed and covering myself to make it look like I was actually asleep. You know... just in case his parents came home and wanted proof of my exhaustion.

It was getting dark out and I felt the floor being violently stomped on as an angry man approached the door. I closed my eyes, knowing whom it was and the door was swung open with force.

I pretended that I had just awoken from door being slammed open and looked at the angry person who stared back at me. Behind him was his son, and Angie—who was very visibly awake right now.

The man turned to his son who looked like he himself was about to wake up. He pointed his finger in his face and said, "You're lucky."

With that the man stormed away and the only thing I could think of was no. I'm lucky, and you just don't know how yet.

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