Alessandra

Every day it was the same. He would come. After undressing he was on me. Once he was done he would go take a shower. Once he was done in there he would unchain me and lock me in the bathroom for an hour. During that time I would throw up, take a shower, and try not to cry. I would then make a mark on the wall behind the toilet to mark the number of days. When he finally let me back out he would rechain me to the bed.

After the first few times, when I had stopped fighting him because I knew it was no use, he started bringing other men. He would talk to them on at the top of the stairs and they would give him money. Then they would come down and look at me. Then they would beat me a few times to make sure I wouldn’t put up a fight. And I didn’t. I had no chance against these big men.

Today he had come and was already done with me. I was in the bathroom now. I looked at the tick marks. I had been here 3 weeks! What must everyone think! They must think I ran away or something. He had probably already carried me away by the time she got out of the bathroom stall. Dean and Andre must be mad. I started crying. I missed Dean so much. I grasped the heart necklace my uncle had given me when I was little. I have never taken it off.

I heard Him come down the stairs and unlock the bathroom door. Then he walked away, but up the stairs. I crept out and heard the lock on the door at the top of the stairs click shut tight.

I looked around confused. Why wasn’t he rechaining me up? I took this opportunity to look around the area I was being kept in.

It was obviously a basement. There was a lot of junk just laying around. There was a mini fridge in the corner. I go over to it and open it up.There was food in it. Not very good food, but it was food none the less. I grabbed an old apple from in there and bit into it.

As I ate, I kept up my search around the room. There were boxes of old things. Some trophies and some books. I also found some old text books. They were high school level. I pulled them out and stored them under the bed where I would be able to reach them if he chained me back to the bed post.

Then I found an old yearbook. I flipped through it and instantly recognized the younger version of my kidnapper. I found his name under the photo. I slammed the book closed. I didn’t want to put a name to the face of my abuser.

I went and started studying.

Author's Note

got to read in order please.
8th chapter.