Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Take a Gamble

Yesterday, I sat in church for a while.Not to pray - I'm not religious - just to sit quietly for a while.Before I was kidnapped, I probably passed by that church a thousand times and never paid attention to it.Our family does not have a tradition of going to church every weekend, and my mother and stepfather usually sleep in on weekend mornings.I've been to church many times over the past few months.It was a very old church, and it smelled like a museum—it smelled good, and it had the feeling that it was still standing after all the vicissitudes.I also love the colorful puzzle glass there.If I were to play deep with you, I would say that I am fascinated by this idea of ​​bringing broken pieces together into a beautiful whole.Fortunately, I'm not that deep.

Churches are usually empty, thank you God, and when they were, no one ever talked to me or looked at me.However, I don't want to have any contact with them. After the freak knocked me out, I regained consciousness after a while, my whole body was aching, and it took a long time before I could lift my head up and look around.A nauseating feeling came over me.Every time I inhaled, the right side of my chest felt like it was on fire.One of my eyes was swollen badly, and the other eye was blurry, and I could basically only see the outlines.I didn't see him.Either he's sleeping on the floor, or he's already out.I lay motionless.

I really want to go to the toilet but don't know if I can walk that far, plus I'm afraid of being caught by him again if I go to the toilet after the allotted time.I probably passed out again because I don't remember anything about what happened next.Later, I woke up from a dream in which Luke and I were running on the beach with our dog.When I woke up and saw my real situation, I cried. My bladder is swollen and I'm afraid I'll pee on the bed if I wait any longer.Peeing outside the allotted time or peeing on the bed, don't know which will make him more angry.I couldn't put the skirt back on, so I crawled naked to the toilet.Every few seconds, I would pause, wait for the black spot in front of me to disappear, and climb a few more steps, whimpering all the way.If he sees me like this, he will probably be very happy.

I was afraid that he would come in when I went to the toilet, so I dared to squat on the drain of the bathtub to pee.I leaned my head against the wall next to me, trying to find a way to breathe that wouldn't hurt me, and I prayed that I wouldn't die here.Finally, I crawled back into bed and lost consciousness again. My head hurts like a throbbing pain that comes from afar, like a noise in the background of a phone call.I still don't know where the pervert is, and all I can think of is the horror of him kidnapping Christina.I prayed that I would try to help him realize his plan and never let him go to Christina instead.

I don't know how long I passed out and woke up again, but it felt like at least one day.When I had regained some strength, I went to the door.The door was still locked.hell!I washed the gunk off my face with water, what I assumed was blood, and drank some water.As soon as the cold water came down, I grabbed the sink and threw up. When I was finally able to walk without feeling dizzy, I searched the cabin again.I ran my hands through every crack and latch.I stood on the kitchen stove and kicked the window so hard I felt like the muscles in my legs were going to snap.But not even a mark was left on the window.I was seriously injured, and I can’t remember the last time I ate. I wanted to escape so much, even if I starved to death in the barren hills outside after escaping, but I really couldn’t get out of this terrible room. room.

To keep track of the number of days I've been missing, I dragged the bed away from the wall and scratched the board with my nails, leaving only a faint mark.If I can see the light through the small hole in the wall of the toilet, then I know it is daytime, if there is no light, I will wait until there is light, and then make a mark.I have made two seals since he left.In order to continue to maintain the rules set by the pervert, I only go to the toilet when I can't hold back, and I only dare to pee in the bathtub. I always keep my ears up, paying attention to any little movement.I was afraid that he would come back suddenly, so I didn't dare to take a bath. If I was too hungry, I would drink water desperately.I think that relatives and friends must be praying for me, everyone may have met and distributed leaflets everywhere, and my smiling face is printed on the leaflets.Mom must be going crazy.I could see her sitting at home, tearful, but still beautiful—sorrow only made her more beautiful.Neighbors would bring home cooked meals, Aunt Val would help answer the phone, and stepfather would hold Mom's hand and tell her everything was going to be okay.I wish someone could say that to me too.Why hasn't anyone found me yet?Have they given up?I've never heard of anyone missing weeks later being found.Unless it's a dead body.

Luke will presumably be interviewed by a TV station, rant on TV.Or will the police interrogate him?Usually when such a case occurs, isn’t it the boyfriend who suspects it first?They should be looking for this freak instead of wasting time on Luke. I'm worried about Emma and don't know who is taking care of it.It has a bad stomach, I don't know if the food they gave it is right?Have you taken it for a walk?A lot of times, I just wonder if it thinks I've abandoned it.When I think of this, I can't help but burst into tears. To comfort myself, I replayed the memories of Luke, Emma, ​​and Christina over and over in my head, like a home video: pause, rewind, replay.One of my fondest memories of Christina is a time when we both went on a candy binge.One year for Halloween, I bought some candy and put it at home, and I planned to distribute it to children who came to ask for candy.As a result, Christina came over to my house to play Scrabble and we decided to break open a bag and eat it.Then one bag became two bags, then three bags, then four bags.The more we ate, the more we got excited, and the Scrabble game turned into a lot of profanity and fits of hysterical laughter.The two of us ate all the candies we bought for the children, and had to turn off the lights at home, and hid in the dark, listening to the sound of fireworks outside, the two of us laughed so hard.

As I think about it, my thoughts turn back to that pervert and what he might be doing to Christina right now.I pictured her sitting in the office, maybe working overtime, and the pervert was waiting outside in the van for her to come out.There's nothing I can do about it all, and it makes me angry. Another day passed, and I drew a new mark on the wall. I no longer had the urge to eat, but I still felt that the pervert would definitely come back.If I'm going to survive, I have to be ready.My plan to seduce him nearly killed me, and I had to find out why he had suddenly gone berserk.

Is he a sadist?Probably not, his beating me did not arouse his sexual desire.He seemed to be repeating something.This person has a whole program.Starting with the bath, maybe this is what he thinks is foreplay?What happened next was brutal.What the hell is he playing? He said women don't want good men, we all want men who don't take us seriously, and when I seduced him, he flew into a rage, called me a whore, said I should defy him.He must think that deep down "nice women" want aggressive men who can rough them up and subdue them, but only "whores" act like they enjoy it. "Good women" should resist.So, if I'm not afraid of him, maybe he can't feel like a real man.

He wanted to please me—to please me with fear and pain.The more unresponsive I was, the more he felt compelled to hurt me.Damn, he's a rapist and thinks every woman likes to fantasize about being raped.But at least I knew what he wanted—I had to fight, I had to show him my pain and my fear. If it wasn't for the empty stomach, I would probably have vomited long ago.Somehow, the thought of having him see how I really felt made me feel sicker than pretending to enjoy being raped. On the fourth day I was alone, it became increasingly difficult to distinguish between dreams and reality. I slept more and more and woke up less and less.Sometimes I'm sure I'm hallucinating because I'm fully awake and I hear Luke's voice and smell his cologne and I open my eyes and there's nothing but the cabin Damn iron walls.

I found that I was weak, and I was afraid that I had forgotten my plan, so I thought of a few words to remind myself.Between falling asleep and waking up, I recited silently over and over again: "A psychopath is a madman, he needs fear and pain. A psychopath is a madman, he needs fear and pain." By the fifth day, I started to fear that maybe he wouldn't come back until I was starved to death.Most of the time I lay in bed, or leaned against the corner, waiting for the door to open, while chanting those two sentences, I always fell asleep.I think it should still be afternoon, but I'm so weak it feels like night.Just then, the lock on the door was unlocked and he walked in. I'm actually glad to see him - I won't starve to death.I was even happier to see him alone, but worried, wondering if Christina had also been knocked unconscious by him and tied up in the car. He closed the door and stood there, staring at me.His shadow swayed in front of me. A psycho is a madman who needs fear and pain... My body was shaking, and my voice was shaking: "Thank God, I was so scared. I... I thought I was going to die here alone." He raised his eyebrows: "Then you hope someone will accompany you when you die here?" "No!" I shook my head, and the whole room seemed to be spinning. "I don't want anyone to die. I've been thinking about..." My severely undernourished brain was struggling to recall the words in my head. "Thought something about.... I wanted to tell you, but I had to know..." My chest tightened. "Christina, is Christina okay?" He leisurely walked to a high stool, sat down, and rested his chin with his hands: "Don't you care about me?" "Caring, caring, of course caring, I'm just thinking... just wondering..." His shadow was blurred, clear, and blurred again. "I was wrong. Last time I was really wrong." He narrowed his eyes and nodded. "I have a plan. Look..." "You have a plan?" He sat up straight suddenly. What the hell am I talking about?I pinched my hand hard with my nails.The room became clear again. "It's how we get along." "Interesting, but I've thought about something. I've got to make some decisions, but I don't think you'll like it." It's time to gamble.I stood up slowly and the room seemed to start spinning again.I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths.When I opened my eyes again, the pervert was staring at me with a blank expression on his face. I clutched my stomach, struggled, and sat down on the high stool next to him. "I think I see what you mean. You've been through all the trouble, and I've been through all the trouble, haven't I?" He half closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Actually, last time we tried to... I said something that I didn't really mean. I just thought you wanted to hear it, thought it would please you." There was still no expression on his face, but he looked seriously into my eyes.The best liars always keep the truth of the matter in mind.I took another deep breath. "I'm really scared, afraid of you, afraid of the feeling you bring me, but, I don't know..." He lifted his head and sat up straight.I must say hurry up. "I understand now, I just need to be true to you, true to myself, and I'm ready." I prayed to God that I would have the strength to finish the following sentence. "So, I want to try again. Please give me one more chance, please." I waited for a long time, and finally, he finally stood up from the stool, and I shrank into a ball in fright. "Maybe I should give you a little more time, Annie. I don't want to rush into a decision." He tilted his head and stood in front of me with his hands outstretched. "Hug one?" he said with a half-smile.He is testing me.I hugged him and put my arms around him. “Christina is great,” he said. “We spent the afternoon together and had a great time looking at properties. She knows a lot about what she’s selling.” I finally breathed a sigh of relief. "I can feel your heartbeat," he hugged me tighter, and then, letting go of me, he said, "Get you something to eat." He left the hut and came back not long after, Hold a brown paper bag. "Lentil soup, just made at my favorite restaurant, with a little apple juice. Good for you with some protein and sugar." The pervert heated up the soup, the aroma of the soup was really good, and then he came to me with a steaming soup bowl and a glass of apple juice.I reached out to take it with trembling hands, but he sat down beside me and put the bowl on the table.Tears welled up in my eyes. "Please, I really want to eat, I'm so hungry." He said very kindly, "I know." He took a spoonful of soup, put it to his mouth, and blew.I watched him take a sip in pain.He nodded, then put the spoon into the bowl, scooped up a spoonful of soup, and blew again, this time bringing the spoon to my mouth.I reached for the spoon, but he shook his head.I put my hands back on my lap. This pervert slowly feeds me soup with a spoon, blows first every time, and stops after a while to feed me a few sips of apple juice.After drinking half of the soup and juice, he said, "I guess you can only drink so much now. Feeling better?" I nod. "Very good." He looked at his watch and said with a smile, "It's time to take a shower." This time, I knew what to do when he led me out of the bathroom, onto the bed, and unzipped my dress from the back. "Please don't touch me...don't do this." He put his chin on my shoulder and touched my earlobe with the tip of his nose. "I can feel you shaking. What are you afraid of?" "You...I'm afraid of you. You're so strong, and besides, you might hurt me." My skirt fell to the floor and he came up to me.His eyes sparkled in the candlelight.Standing in front of me, he gently circled my neck with his middle finger. The finger came to a stop just above my pubic bone. I got goosebumps all over my body. "Tell me what it feels like to be afraid." He emphasized the word "scared." "My knees...feel limp. My stomach is sick. I can't breathe. My heart, it feels...feels like it's going to explode." He pressed my shoulders with both hands, pushed me back and forth, walked until my knees touched the edge of the bed, and then he pushed me hard.I fell on the bed.I watched him tear his clothes off. I was on the bed, trying to crawl away, but he grabbed my ankle and pulled me back.He was on top of me and ripped off my panties and bra.It all happened so fast.He hardened and entered my body.I screamed.he smiles.I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and silently counted the number of times he attacked. When he hesitated, I struggled desperately.I pray. Let it all end, let it end, let it end. When he finally finished, I wished I could pour disinfectant on myself, and then brush it with boiling water until it kept bleeding, but I didn't even have the strength to stand up.I asked him to take a bath for me, but he said, "It's not necessary, just rest." When he was done, he looked very happy, lay there stroking my hair and said, "Tomorrow, I'll get some chicken breasts out of the fridge." He pulled me over again and put the tip of his nose against my neck. "We can make fried noodles together, okay?" He hugged me and fell asleep. I still have a patch of wetness from him between my legs, and I don't cry.When I think about Luke, I almost cry, and I clench my teeth and bite them.In the dark, I whispered, "I'm sorry". I've seen some TV shows where women have endured years of beatings and kicks from their husbands and are still not divorced. What's more, they are not only not divorced, but are doing everything they can to make their husbands happy.Of course, their efforts were in vain.I try to sympathize with them, to understand them, but I just don't understand, doctor.In my opinion, it's all very simple.Isn't it easy to pack your things, say goodbye to your jerk husband, and give him another kick before you go?Yes, I used to think I was powerful.But the experience of being alone for five days was enough to break a strong person like me.For five horrible days, I was ready to do whatever he wanted me to do.Now, everyone says I'm a hero.A hero should be the kind of person who rushes into a fire and saves a child.A hero dies for a noble purpose.I'm not a hero, I'm just a coward. I'm going to do another interview tonight, and some smug blonde will ask me with a smile like a gum ad: "How did you feel when you were locked up there? Were you scared?" Bullshit.These guys were all just like him—all sadists, except they were well-paid sadists. It's funny how few people ask me how I'm feeling right now, but when they do, I don't talk about it.I just don't understand why people don't care about what happens after the story - only the story itself.I guess they probably thought that was the end of the story. I also hope to stop here.