Trapped

"Have a nice day!" I repeated for about the sixteenth time to a sixteenth customer. Rain drizzled down the grimey windows. The sign, 'Great cakes here' was practically invisible under the layer of dirt. Sighing, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a hairnet. I quickly gathered my blonde, black-streaked hair into a bun and wrapped the hairnet tightly around it. I then picked up a piping bag. Starting to ice the batch of cakes, Sam the baker walked in,

"Make sure you ice 'em pretty!" He laughed, Sam is a plump man - in fact just how you'd expect a baker to look. He was fat, jolly and had bright, red, rosy cheeks. He's always smiling, he never seems to be down,

"I will", I smirked. I started to pipe on purple swirls and adding small yellow daffodils. I was quite pround of them. Then, I heard the familiar sound of the door squeaking so I dropped the bag and rushed to the counter. Before me stood a man, he was not much older than me, about twenty five, twenty six. His hair was combed over so all his his chesnut hair was flowing to the right. He had brown eyes and needed a shave.

"Hello sir, have you come to pick up an order?" I asked,

"No, but I do know something, so beware." He hissed. Frowning, I watched as he turned around and left, leaving me dumbstuck. Shaking, I turned back to the kitchen. Half an hour later, we closed up. I grabbed my beige bag and waved to Sam,

"See ya tomorrow Zara," He said joyfully, I said goodbye and left the bakery. It was still raining. Pulling my hood up, I strolled up the pavement. I knew a shortcut so I left that way. The grimey walls smelt horrid but I knew it would get me home a lot quicker. Hearing footsteps behind me, I hurried my pace. Near the exit of the alleyway, I stopped. On the floor in front in me lay a girl. A dead girl.

She was naked and had blood around her mouth. They're were cuts around her wrist and her eyes were open. Tears coming to my eyes, I clasped my hand around my mouth. Suddenly a hand rested on shoulder, I screamed but was muzzled by the other hand. I struggled trying to fight the strong hands. Abruptly, a stone hit my head and I sunk to the floor.

I woke up lying on the floor, my hands cuffed to the wall. Spiders and other creepy crawlies climbed up the mossy wall. My shoes had been taken and my skirt was dirtied and ripped. Suddenly, I heard a door slam and behind me entered the man who'd 'warned' me. He released my cuffs and picked me up by my wrists. He flung me onto a chair. Using duck tape, he taped my wrists and ankles to the chair. He then started unraveling the tape around my waist so I was finding it hard to breathe. From his pocket he revealed a metal crowbar. He also grabbed a flame thrower. He heated up the metal bar until it was burning bright red shining in my face. Lifting the metal, he pushed my head to the side. He placed the scorching hot fire onto my cheek.

I screamed, the pain was excruciating. My cheek burned. He took the burning metal and imprinted on my other cheek. I screamed asking him to stop. Dropping the bar, he released me and I sunk to the floor weeping. My cheeks had gone numb with pain. Stomping on my hand, the man took some chains and chained me to the wall round my neck. I felt like an animal, a badly treated one.

A hour later most of the pain in my cheeks had gone and I managed to the reach the, now cool, crowbar. I tried to break the cement where the chain hook was attatched to. Using all my strength, I managed to wedge the hook of the wall, I was free. I ran to the door. It was unlocked. Slowly, I opened the door. It lead to a corridor which was deserted. Walking carefully, I found my way to some stairs. I realised this was a basement.  

There was a murderer holding me captive and I had to find a way out.

I followed the corridor, the cold wet floor hard on my feet. I could here the sound of a tv on in the nearby room. I peaked through the keyhole and saw the man, his back to me, fixed to the tv screen. Luckily for me, the door hardly creaked so I could open the door wide enough for me to crawl out. My heart was in my mouth, what would happen if I was caught? Imprisonment? Torture? Or worse... Death?

I crawled along the dusty carpet, heading for the open door ahead of me. When I made it to the door, I found myself in a kitchen. On the counter lay a, now clean, crowbar. Also, lying next to it, was a knife. 

I rose to my feet and left through the back door. It was dark, just my luck. The concrete didn't help my feet so I ran onto a field behind the house. I had no idea where I was. I carried on through the wet, sticky mud. After rekking over the fields, I came to a main road and a map. I was 2 miles from home. I decided I would hitch a ride. I sat on the curb and stuck up my thumb. One hour passed, at that point I was tired and hurt. I cried. I just sat and cried.

Soon after, a car  stopped. A young woman got out, not much older than me.

"Oh sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked, all I needed to do was lift my head and the woman saw my cheeks.

"A man took me and burnt me." I sobbed, the woman pulled me up to my feet and hugged me.

"I'm Sarah and you're gonna be okay now." Sarah whispered. She sat me in the passenger seat and took me to the nearest hospital. I had no idea where I was. Lot's of men in bright yellow were putting me in a wheelchair and I was being sped through hallways and in elevators. Evantually, I was lifted into a bed. A warm soft bed. Lot's of people in white coats were hooking me up and rubbing things into my cheek and my wrists.

Sunlight burst through the windows waking me from my slumber. Next to me stood a nurse. She was preparing some sort of liquid.

"Oh hello Zara, I'm Margeret and I need to treat your wrists." I dropped my wrists next to her. Margeret took some cotton wool type materiel and washed away some of the dried blood. She then wrapped around a bandage on each wrist. Using special tape, she covered my burns and gave me some painkillers. When she left I saw a woman running in towards me. It was my mother.

"Oh darling, oh my baby no no no." she was now crying. She kissed my forehead and we hugged. Then I told her what happened. 

They never caught my kidnapper, they never found a reason for his actions other than he was a lunatic and wanted to kill. I am always scared of him coming to get me. But at other times I am glad that I beat him and that I lived to tell my tale.