The Search For Sophie King

The Search For Sophie King

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Mar 5, 2015
My name is Sophie. But, no one can know that. You see, I'm in hiding from a psychopath. He's already killed my family and is after me since he thinks I saw him commit a crime. I didn't. I've become 3 different people and lived 3 separate lives. But now, I'm tired of running. I know he's close. We've always been told to face our fears, right? What if it's out to kill us? ~ Sophie is, or should I say, was a normal girl. She was on her way to achieving her dreams. But that all turns sour when he found her in a quiet town. Will she survive to see the murderer brought to justice? Or will she just be a forgotten memory?
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Why did he kidnap me? This happened 3 months ago. Many times I have tried to escape the clutches of his rough hands. Many times I have cried for help. But I need to get stronger in order to escape from him. Now, three months later, I think about this, but now my feelings are different. I wanted to kill him, to make him suffer the way he made me suffer. "Do it, kill him!" Is what I'm thinking. "Kill him and it will be over. I will be able to escape." The mask that was hiding his identity looks at me as I hold the knife to his throat. The whole time I been wondering why I didn't just slit his throat. He told me to do it, to finish him but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I couldn't hate him for the times he whipped me or raped me. I just couldn't. I looked at him holding the knife to his throat with a shaky hand. No matter how hard I try I can't hate him. No matter how hard I try I can't get the knife to slice Reidson's throat. Dropping the knife on the floor I look at his face. I couldn't see his eyes because of the white mask. Now the same hands that used to be so rough became soft and warm. He still beats and rapes me but I figured out why I didn't hate him for making me suffer like this with these same hands that hurt me so cruelly are now touching my face gently. I held his hand to my chest as I look at his masked face. His hand is stained with blood. My blood. I look at his face, I have fallen into a cruel love.

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