Isolation

Chapter four: The Abduction

        After arguing with my mom, I went to a nearby cornerstore. It was a new thing for me, since we barely got into arguments. Once I started visiting Marco Sr. in jail, she started to avoid me a little more. She didn't ask where I was going, and never gave me a curfew. The only thing I remember her telling me to do, is my chores and to make sure I'm up and ready for church. Other than that, my mother was so far away. She stopped talking about her memories with dad, plus she never spoke to his side of the family. At the funeral she didn't even make eye contact with my father's parents. But now all of a sudden she decided she had the right to ask me about my relationship.

        I remember picking up a bottle of soda, it was turning dark outside and I knew I needed to make my way back to the dorm. I tried pulling my phone out for directions, but my service was acting up. I started to walk back to the direction into which I thought the campus was. As I was walking, I just felt someone or something staring at me. I decided to speed up, so did it; I decided to slow down, so did it. I stopped, pulled out my phone and shared my location with Marco and my mom. In those moments, three dudes rushed at me. However, my dad made sure I took self defense training and once he died, I attended the classes regularly. That wasn't enough though, I knocked one down and then another got back up. I tried screaming, but my voice felt like it was choking on its own sounds. 

        That's when I realized I was having a panic attack. The stress from my mom and the sudden change in situations all started to take its toll. My mind and body wasn't on the same page to keep up with radical movements. I just... blanked out. When I woke up I was in the back of a van, with handcuffs on my wrist. The windows looked to be bullet/shattered proof. I suspected that whoever kidnapped me had some relations to law enforcement. It's not rare to see cops involved in human trafficking. That's just the society we live in. I reached to grab my phone. Instead of putting it back in my pocket before getting jumped, I placed it into my bra. They've probably searched my body, but must've glanced over it. 

         My legs were tied to my hands, so I had to take my phone out with my mouth. I was never flexible, but after a couple of minutes of back breaking pain, I snagged the phone. Using the side of my hand, I turned on my phone and saw multiple notifications from my mom. The car stopped, so I had to move quickly. I switched to the  keypad and dialed 991, I knew if I was caught with my phone I'd probably die. It wasn't the best decision, but to me it felt like the safest. I hid the phone under the front seat. The van doors opened, and the same three guys escorted me out the back, and into a warehouse.

         I was taken to a back room and told to undress. I did as demanded, Marco Sr. told me if I was ever kidnapped, it's best to listen to what they say. I found myself in nothing but a bra and boxers. Yea, it wasn't panties, my luck. After undressing I was taken to another room, and told to sleep on the dusty mattress on the floor. About thirty minutes later, a girl came by with a plate of food. Five chips and a cup of water. I was always a fan of crime shows, and the starvation tactic was in almost every one of them. It was a way of slowly mind controlling the victim. Same way pets rely on their owners to feed them, I now too will have to rely on my captors. This means I will have to follow/do as they say, if not then I will not receive the proper nutrition to stay alive. 

         I ate the chips, and drank the nasty tap water. I rolled over onto the disgusting bed, and thought to myself "hard work pays off!" All I could really think about was, how I could've treated my mom different. It's not the child's responsibility to fix their relationship with their parents. However, if maybe I would've made the effort back then to talk to her. Instead of just letting her sink so low, then maybe I could've changed our relationship. If the truth be told, I was scared that if I conversed with her, then all the bad memories would come back.