Get Revenge

Chapter One

After my last class of the day, I dropped my backpack off, donned shorts, switched from sandals to running shoes, and grabbed my iPod. For my afternoon run, I opted for the woody trail behind the dorm. The terrain challenged me more than the flat track in the school's athletic field.

As I ran, I kept the volume on my iPod low enough to hear the crackle of the leaves beneath my feet. The snap of an occasional twig or the shuffle of a small animal scurrying through the brush comforted me.

Forty-five minutes into my run, I reduced my pace to a jog and turned up the music. I was lost in the lyric when out of nowhere, an arm wrapped around my waist and something covered my nose and mouth.  A pungent, sweet scent burned my nostrils. I kicked and tried to scream until the world faded away.

*    *    *

I awoke disoriented. Where was I? What is this place? I recall running on the trail, listening to Bon Jovi and after that...

I didn’t know how long I'd been here. Darkness caused my other senses to kick in. The eerie silence frightened me. Goosebumps erupted from the coolness of the room. The musty stench was like the laundry room in the basement of the dorm.

Hello?

My word echoed through the nothingness.

I sat up and my muscles argued as if they’d been fighting a battle. I tried to peer around, unable to distinguish the size of the room.  A scratchy blanket irritated the skin on my legs. The sheet on the cot beneath reeked of bleach.

Hello?

Nothing.

I wore the same clothes I had put on to go running. My hands searched for watch and necklace. Gone. I couldn't find iPod. My diamond stud earrings remained in place.

My stomach growled and I had to pee. I didn’t know if I should move from the cot. I shivered, not from the cold, but from fear. I didn’t even know what I should be afraid of.

I moved a foot from under the blanket and slowly lowered it to the floor. I put my other foot down and tapped. The floor seemed solid enough to stand, so I did, taking the blanket with me.

I put my hand on the bed and moved along the side of it until I came to a cold, hard wall. I inched back following the outline of the mattress. I turned at the corner and again ran into a solid wall. I followed the wall to the corner. About five paces. I took six more steps along the next wall and came to a door. It felt colder than the wall, more like metal, perhaps a fire door. I could find no handle. Barely below waist level, I found a mail slot. Slightly above my eye level I found a circular area that might be a peep hole. I felt around the edge of the door to see if I could get my fingers to pry it open. No luck.

I continued beyond the door seven short strides until I came to the next corner. Twelve steps and another corner. I blew out a deep breath. Three more steps and I bumped into something with my foot. I let my hand travel down the wall until I felt something cold, smooth, and solid, perhaps porcelain.

Hm, could it be?

I felt around the edges of the object. Yes. A toilet. I pulled the handle to make sure it worked, hearing the water swirl around and go down.

Thank God.

I settled in and did my business, flushing again when I finished. I went around the toilet and found a small sink. I felt around the edge. A bar of soap, a cup, and a small towel sat on the edge. I washed and dried my hands. Then I put a little water in the cup. I took a sip. It tasted a bit metallic. I decided not to have any more unless I really needed to.

I continued my journey around the cell until I returned to my point of origin. I made two more trips around the four walls to see if I could find a window. I stretched as high as I could reach. Nothing.

Hello, I shouted louder this time. Still, I received no response. I lay down and covered myself with the blanket, hoping eventually someone would come.

*    *    *

I must have fallen asleep. Suddenly, the room filled with a blinding light. Footfalls echoed announcing a visitor. I tried hard to get my eyes to adjust to the light coming from the ceiling fixture.

Food, I heard someone say.

He pushed a tray through the slat in the door. After I accepted the tray, a canteen came through the hole.

Where am I?

The footsteps moved away.

What time is it? Who are you? I pounded on the door. Why am I here?

A door shut, then silence.

I glanced around at the gray concrete walls. The bed had a wooden frame with a thin mattress. The blanket was brown, the sheet white. The only things in the room were the ones I had found in the dark, with the exception of the light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I sighed and looked at the tray which held a small carton of milk, a bowl of rice and some meat, perhaps chicken, and an apple. I ate the fruit thinking it was probably the least likely to be poisoned or improperly cooked. It made my stomach ache for more. I took a sip from the canteen. The fresh water tasted much better than what came from the sink. I wanted more but thought I should save it for later. I drank the milk.

The rice mixture was warm, not hot. I took a spoonful of the nearly tasteless slop. I was so hungry. One bite made me want more. I ate slowly, not knowing when I would receive my next meal.

The bowl and the spoon were plastic, nothing I could make a weapon out of. I took the end of the spoon and made a mark on the wall. I decided I would do this every time I received food, a way to measure my time. I was not sure at what intervals I would eat but it would be something.

The light stayed on for what seemed like a long time. Then I heard the footsteps again.

Your tray?

Again I asked, Where am I? What time is it? Who are you? When will I get out?

By the time I finished my questions a door closed and again I was left in silence. The light stayed on for a little while longer. The darkness surrounded me once more.

*   *   *

On Thursday morning, a college co-ed called her roommate's father.

Hi Mr. Sanders. It's Gabriela.

"Hey, Gabby. What's up?

Is Misty home?

No. She's not there?

No. She didn't come home last night.

She didn't leave a note or anything? That wasn't like his daughter.

No, nothing.

His cop instincts kicked in. Is anything missing?

Her backpack is on the bed which is still made. I don't think anything is... Wait, I don't see her iPod. She probably went for a run. But I would have heard her come in; the bed would have been a mess if she had been here.

Have you checked with any of her other friends?

I asked a couple of people on the floor. No one in the dorm has seen her since yesterday afternoon.

Worry caused his blood pressure to rise. Maybe she stayed in another dorm with a friend, he suggested, trying not to upset Gabriela further.

It isn't like her to not let me know.

He nodded and thought for a moment.

Call campus security. I'll be up there in an hour.

Carl Sanders knew his daughter. She wouldn't up and leave without telling anyone. Before he left, he called his boss.

Chief. Misty's roommate called. We think Misty is missing. I'm gonna head up there and take a look around.

You need any help?

Not yet. Let me see what I can find out. I'll call you later.

All right, keep me posted.

Detective Sanders checked his gun and put it in its holster. He jumped into his SUV and took off. The ride to the school took longer than usual. Maybe it was because he was concerned for his daughter. By the time he arrived at the dorm, campus security was talking to Gabby.

The girl threw her arms around her friend's father. I'm so glad you're here.

Looking over the girl's shoulder, he addressed the security guard. I'm Carl Sanders, Misty's father. I'm a detective. He showed his badge. Catch me up, he said to the guard.

Well, there's not much to tell. The girl across the hall was the last person to see her. She left at three yesterday afternoon wearing jean shorts and a tee shirt and she had her iPod. There's nothing missing from the room and it doesn't look like anyone broke in. Gabriela said she usually runs on the track but sometimes goes on the hiking trail. We have a couple of guys out there.

Take me to the trail.

The guard and Mr. Sanders walked across campus. As they reached the beginning of the trail, a voice came over the guard's walkie talkie. Hey, Mike. We're about half a mile into the trail. We found an iPod on the ground. Looks like there may have been a struggle.

Carl and Mike rushed to the spot where the other two guards were. The foliage was definitely disturbed. No one had touched the iPod on the ground. Carl pulled on a pair of latex gloves and took out a small baggie. He picked up the device and put it in the bag.

Call the local police and get forensics out here. I'm going back to the room to see if Gabby can confirm this is Misty's iPod.

Got it.

Mike called into the central office, explained the situation, and told them to call the authorities. Carl went back to the dorm.

Can you tell if this is Misty's? he asked handing the iPod to Gabby.

Looks like it. She took the device and pushed the buttons through the plastic bag. One of Misty's favorite songs started to play. Tears welled in Gabby's eyes.

It's hers. Where is she?

We don't know yet.

Gabby crumbled into the older man's arms and sobbed.

Chapter Two

I had a difficult time sleeping on the uncomfortably thin mattress and the blanket was inadequate. More than that, I was alone in the dark. I had no clock to know how much time had elapsed. I felt hungry again. And worst of all, there was no way to contact the outside world. I had no idea when I would see anyone again.

After what seemed like an eternity, the light blinded me again. I tugged the blanket tightly against me. I wasn't sure what to expect.

I heard the footsteps coming closer. Then the voice spoke.

Is there anything you require?

To get out of here.

The man started to move away.

Wait, when will I get more food?

It's coming soon. His voice sounded rough but not cruel, almost kind.

Can I get some paper and something to write with?

I'll see what I can do.

And if I'm going to be trapped much longer I need clean clothes, maybe a book to read, a toothbrush, hair brush...

You're asking for a lot.

I'm sitting in here all alone with no one to talk to, nothing to do. What do you expect?

I'll see what I can do. Is your canteen empty?

Yes.

Give it to me. I'll fill it and bring it back upon my return.

I slid the canteen through the slot. He moved away and I flinched at the sound of the door shutting again.

I went to the bathroom and washed my face and hands. I looked at the mark on the wall. I should have kept the spoon. Then again, I planned on making one mark every time I ate. I wondered how much time had passed since they brought me food. My stomach had long since stopped growling. I was beyond hungry. I presumed my body was getting energy from any fat I had stored. I wondered how long I could survive. Lost in thought, I didn't hear the footsteps. The voice brought me back to reality.

Step away from the door.

I wondered how he would know if I did or not, but I did as requested.

The door opened slightly and he pushed in a cardboard box. Before I could try to escape, the door closed and the lock clicked. I stood frozen for a minute. I heard a few steps and pressed my hands against the door.

When will I get some more food? I yelled.

Soon.

The other door closed.

I opened the box carefully, not knowing what to find. Would it be the things I asked for?

Inside I found a toothbrush, a comb, two pairs of sweat pants, two t-shirts, a package of cotton briefs, a package of socks, a notepad, and a pen. I changed my clothes thinking the sweat pants would be warmer. Although the pants and shirt were too large, it felt good to get into something clean. I combed out my hair then put it back into a ponytail. I brushed my teeth but they didn't feel very clean without toothpaste. I rinsed out my other clothes and lay them on the floor to dry. I wondered how long it would take in the dampness. Perhaps they wouldn't dry at all.

I took the notepad and pen and settled in on the bed. I began to write.

*    *    *

I don't know how long I have been here. Maybe a day. Maybe two. I'm alone except for the man who comes to bring me food. At least I think I am. I can't see out the door when it's dark. I tried peeking out when the light was on but the line of vision is limited. I try calling out from time to time but I get no answer. When the man comes to bring me things, he doesn't talk to anyone else, not that I can hear.

I fear I might die from loneliness. How can a person survive like this? It couldn't have been more than a day or two but still, I am starving for attention, for someone to talk to.

*    *    *

Food.

I took the tray. This time there was a piece of Italian bread, a banana and the newly refilled canteen.

That's it.

You were expecting a steak? His tiny bit of kindness had disappeared.

How can I live on this?

He didn't reply.

I filled my cup with water. I ate the bread slowly, trying to savor every morsel. I put the banana on the edge of the sink, saving it for later. I went back to writing.

*    *    *

Bread and a banana. What the hell kind of meal was that? Shit. How the hell long am I going to be here? For what purpose was I taken? I miss my friends. I wonder if they are looking for me. Do they even know I'm gone? Did they call my father? Surely he would come looking for me.

I wonder how Gabby is. She and I are best friends. We do everything together. I miss her so much.

I wish I had my iPod. At least then I could count the songs and estimate how much time passes. Of course, the battery would run out. UGH.

Please don't let me die in here!

*    *    *

Getting to my feet, I yelled, Is anyone out there? Please. If anyone can hear me, talk to me.

My words echoed against the cold walls.

I slumped against the door and started to cry. I could think of no reason, nothing I had done wrong to deserve being locked away in solitary.

What did I do? I hollered.

The light went out. He hadn't even come back for the tray. I sighed. I found my way over to the bed and curled up in a ball under the blanket.

Shit. I had forgotten to mark the wall.

*    *    *

Carl was pacing the floor at the precinct as he spoke to his longtime friend. It's been five days, Paul. No one has seen or heard from her. The iPod only had her prints and Gabby's. There was no evidence on the trail except for the disturbed leaves and branches. There's been no ransom note or call.

I'm sure something will turn up soon, Carl.

I don't know. The chances of her... You know the odds drop with every passing hour.

Do you want to head back up there? We can talk to some more of her friends. Maybe someone saw something or someone.

He shook his head. I don't think we'll find anything but it sure as hell beats sitting here and worrying. I'll tell the boss we're going up there.

Carl went into the Chief's office.

Paul and I are going to head up to the campus, see if we can find anything.

It's not our jurisdiction, Carl.

I know, but she's my daughter. I have to do something.

The Chief rubbed his temples. All right. But be careful and don't step on the local's toes.

Gotcha.

Sanders and Banner had worked a few cases together, murders, armed robberies, and a serial rapist. They knew the things that could happen to a young girl. Both were very worried about Misty. Upon their arrival on campus, they went to the security office first.

Hey, Mike, Carl said to the familiar guard.

Hey, what are you doing here?

I was wondering if anything had turned up.

I'm sorry. Nothing of consequence. The local police are still investigating; there's not much to go on.

Carl swallowed hard. Have there been any other incidents, people missing, stalking, assault, he swallowed again, rape?

No, nothing. Everything's been quiet around here. We've bumped up security, adding extra shifts and stuff.

I see. Do you mind if we check around more?

Mike was hesitant. He had a daughter as well and he understood Carl's distress. If you weren't a cop, I wouldn't do this, but sure go ahead. If you find anything, we need to tell the local cops.

The two detectives roamed the campus with intent. They talked to several students. No one seemed to know anything. Just before they were about to give up, they ran into Gabby.

Hi. Mr. Sanders.

How are you Gabby?

I'm all right; I guess, she replied solemnly. There's no news on Misty, is there?

I'm afraid not.

I'm so sorry.

I know, sweetheart.

Gabby, Gabby! another girl yelled, running up to them.

I heard some people talking about Misty at the cafe. They said they saw some guy taking pictures of her last week.

Take me to them, Carl insisted.

The four of them went to the cafeteria. The detectives spoke to a group of students. They described a man seen taking pictures of his daughter. There was one particular boy who said he had seen the photographer several times.

I want you to come with me to the local police and talk to a sketch artist.

I don't know man, the boys said nervously. I really don't know...

Listen, my daughter is missing. We have no other leads. I need your help. Please.

I guess it couldn't hurt.

Chapter Three

I started talking to myself, just to hear a voice. The silence hurt my ears. I was almost afraid they'd stop working.

Whenever the light was on, I ate or wrote. Food only came every other time the light was on. I figured the light went on twice a day.

Whatever I washed took forever to dry. I changed every time I ate, usually after the light went out. Anything I could do in the dark, I did, saving the light for writing.

My first few pages were ramblings of my time stuck in this cold room. It was filled with complaints about my situation. That started to depress me even more. I decided I would write about who I was, where I came from, things that I remembered. It somehow made me feel better.

The food alternated between bread and water one time, then the rice and meat the next. Each time I got a piece of fruit. I longed for a fresh green salad, a juicy steak, or a baked potato with butter and sour cream. I closed my eyes and thought of those things as I chewed on my stale bread crust. I tried to keep a little piece. I never ate the fruit right away. Since the food seemed to come only once a day, I saved some for later. Whenever the canteen was empty, I would give it to the guard. He would bring it back filled with fresh water the next time he came.

On what seemed like the fifth day, I asked for toothpaste, shampoo, a larger towel, a wash cloth, more clothes, and again, a hair brush. I received a cloth and toothpaste, pushed through the slat in the door.

A little while later, I heard, Food.

I really could use the shampoo and a larger towel. I need to wash my hair. I feel like it is about to fall out.

I’ll see what I can do.

It was the response I always received.

That day I got bread, milk, and grapes. I drank the milk, for fear it would spoil. It was slightly colder than room temperature. The box I had received now served as a table. I put the bread and grapes on it and went back to writing.

*    *    *

I remember the feeling of the sun on my face. It's warm and relaxing. I dip my toes in the sand. It feels good to be grounded. I get a bucket of water from the ocean and begin to build an elaborate sand castle. I dream of being locked in the turret only to be rescued by a handsome young prince riding a fine Arab charger. I climb on to the back of his steed and we ride off into the sunset.

*    *    *

I closed my eyes and I imagined being in my story, the wind blowing through my hair as we rode. I felt happy and content. I could almost smell the salt air. My eyelids opened to the harsh reality of my cell. I was trapped once more in loneliness and despair.

When the light went out again, I curled up under the blanket and prayed for sleep. After what seemed like an eternity, my mind drifted off.

*    *    *

Several more marks passed and I started getting stir crazy. I heard voices. I saw things that weren’t there. I would close my eyes and feel things on my skin. I was itchy all over, especially on my back where I couldn’t reach. It was driving me insane.

Food.

Can I get some hand lotion?

I’ll see what I can do.

Yeah, you do that, I snarled.

A few minutes later I heard singing.

Hello?

No response, yet the singing didn’t stop.

Is anyone there?

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry. Go to sleep little baby.

I hear you.

When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses.

I started singing along. Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, go to sleep you little baby.

I heard the door open and someone coming. I wasn’t sure if it was real or not.

The guard asked, What are you doing?

Huh?

Why are you singing?

It passes the time. What’s it to you?

Perhaps we should get you a play thing.

How about a book and leaving the light on a little longer?

I’ll see what I can do.

I’m sick of hearing that. I guess you aren’t the one running the show, I snapped.

I ain’t.

Who is?

I’ll bring your food in a little while.

Can you bring something different?

It’s not up to me.

Why am I here?

He walked away.

Please, come back here. Talk to me. I’m so lonely I could die.

I’ve already said too much.

I heard the familiar sound of the outer door closing.

The next time my food was delivered, there was bread with butter and some fresh strawberries. It was something different.

*    *    *

There wasn’t much to do in the dark. Sleep started to evade me. Sometimes I would get up and walk in place, not moving too much in any direction. I didn’t want my muscles to become too weak. The lack of food was bad enough. But not exercising was taking its toll. Walking got my blood pumping. I used to walk all the time. Once or twice a week I would run. My legs used to be very shapely, but they had started to deteriorate. My arms were getting flabby too. I had nothing to lift.

*    *    *

Where are you going?

I’m not sure.

Can I walk with you?

I can’t stop you.

It’s warm out today. I love this time of year.

What time of the year is it?

You tell me.

It’s September. The leaves are just starting to turn.

I love the smell of fall.

I love the crunch under my feet as I step on the leaves.

Look, there’s a deer.

Where? Oh, I see her. She’s beautiful.

Let’s go talk to her.

Hello. What’s your name?

Fawn. What’s yours?

I... I don’t remember.

Chapter Four

On Friday evening, a never ending flow of customers visited the bar. Conrad Banner had spent the night on his feet with no breaks. He had done his best to smile and be friendly with the customers. The tips were always better when he was personable.

Hey Conrad. You think you can lock up for me tonight? Gotta get home to the wife. It's our anniversary.

You worked on your anniversary?

Yeah, and if I don't get home soon I'm not gonna be celebrating another one.

Sure. Get outta here. I got this covered.

It was after one forty five. Last call had been announced. The crowd had thinned and the wait staff was cleaning the tables and putting chairs up. The band had long since packed up their gear and left. Conrad had to clean the bar and set up for the next day.

Being exhausted, he made quick work of the cleaning, asking the