She Penned my Dreams

Defiance

Defiance

Katie

If this guy thought I was the kinda girl to go without a fight, boy, he was dead wrong! I am a proud southern woman, and I don’t take shit from anyone, let alone a goddamn kidnapper. If he wanted me to cry myself to sleep and be a good little complacent prisoner, he sure had another thing coming. He wanted me to be afraid and I refused to be. When panic started creeping up my throat, I sucker punched it back down with a whole heap of MotherFucking Pissed Off. This dipshit was not getting away with this, and I was not about to make this any easier for him.

My hands and feet were bound, and my head was throbbing from where he had hit me, but that was not about to stop me. I was zipped into a large canvas bag, my knees crunched up against my chest and the fabric close around my face. If that was supposed to calm me, like covering an animal’s face so it wouldn’t struggle, it sure as hell wasn’t working. I was just hella upset! I could tell I was in a vehicle of some sort, and it was moving, but that didn’t stop me from screaming my heart out. Not “someone help me” or “Please don’t do this” shit, no I was screaming straight up obscenities at whatever asshole had the audacity to kidnap me.

“You better let me THE FUCK OUT right now, or you’re as good as dead!” I called, my voice slightly muffled by the canvas bag covering my body. But I knew he heard it, and I was not about to let him off without a fight. “You don’t know who the hell you’re messing with, you shit-sucking little coward!”

“Oh, my sweet Katie, that foul mouth doesn’t belong on that pretty little face,”

“Sweet?” I cried indignantly. “We’ll see how sweet you think I am when I’m beating the shit out of you!”

“Katie, Katie, Katie,” he chuckled and I could hear the creep shaking his head. I swear, if he said my name one more time I was going to explode. “Katie, don’t talk to your husband like that, it’s unbecoming.”

“Husband?!” I shrieked, my voice cracking as I realized not only the intensity of his delusion, but all that he might have planned for me. I pushed the fear back however, opting instead for the safety of an unwaveringly loud voice and horrifically creative threats. “The day I marry a fucking sea cur like you is the day hell freezes over, the ocean turns to mayonnaise and IT RAINS FUCKING HORSE SHIT!”

The bastard just laughed and turned up the radio. He started whistling along with whatever godforsaken pop station was on, acting as though he wasn’t driving along with a woman tied up in his backseat. If I was in a backseat…

Taking a break from my screaming, I tried rolling around a bit, testing my surroundings, and the covering that kept me all balled up. I must’ve been in a work van of some sort because the back was flat, but not like a covered truck bed. Using a tight corner as cover, I rolled as far to one side as I could, cursing loudly when my back cracked against some sort of wood, a workbench or tool box maybe.

“Sorry, my darling,” he called back to me, my answer to which was a short but firm: “Fuck you!”

After concluding I was likely in his work van, leading me to believe he was, in fact, the electrician he had claimed to be, I focused on my more immediate surroundings. Literally, the bag I was zipped into. I could feel the zipper scratching on my face, but I couldn’t get my hands out from underneath me. Stretching around and testing out my bonds, I growled at the little fucker’s ingenuity. The bastard was smart enough tobag my hands and then tie them not behind me, but around one leg, which in turn, was tied to my other leg. Feeling genuinely stuck, not like horror movie stupid-girl-i-could-get-out-of-that-in-two-seconds stuck, but actually and truly stuck, I felt that panic start to creep up on me again. Without an escape in sight, without hands free or even a basic understanding of my surrounding, I really started to feel trapped.