I Was Abducted

Chapter 1 Jackson

I've been seeing the same therapist for 5 years. I see Mr. Harris every Tuesday at 4:00 P.M. on the dot. Now I don't. I'm in a new state, school, house, and therapy center.

My parents, Todd and Elizabeth decided that our "family" needed a new beginning. So, they dragged me and my little sister Charlotte, who I call Charlie, from Boise, Idaho to Portland, Oregon.

A new area sets me on edge. I immediately scan the area of our new house. 487 is our house number. The house is a light washed out blue with stairs leading to the front door.

Count 1..2..3..4..5... My mind is clear as I let out a deep breath. It's just a new house, no big deal.

I push my hair back and dig in my pockets for my pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Mom is disgusted by the smell of them.

My parents also despise the tattoos on my arms and hand. The only thing that mom loves about my appearance is my green eyes and freckles.

The air is different there, back where we used to live. I would never call anywhere home because it's just simply not.

We've been carrying boxes into the house for hours. I'm extremely exhausted, but I know it's going to take me a while to feel good enough to sleep here. I have to get used to a place before I feel safe enough to sleep anywhere.

The moving truck has just left so, it's up to us to bring everything else that's outside, inside. The movers set all the furniture that they brought into the house in the correct places and boxes in the correct rooms.

My parent's and sister's rooms are upstairs and mine is in the basement, which I'm very glad about. It will be easy to get in and out without anyone knowing, not that I care because I would leave anyway. I would just be able to leave without anyone on my ass.

The sun is setting and the night is coming quickly. I blow out smoke from my cigarette and rest my back against the house.

"Where do you even get those things, you're 16?" Mom sighs wiping her sweaty palms against her blue jeans. It's called a fake ID.

I just roll my eyes and continue smoking. She's tried taking my smokes away a million times and I think she's finally given up.

"That's the last box," dad yells and carries it into the open garage.

Charlie has been playing with her chalk since we unloaded the first box. She's probably hungry. Mom needs to get on that before she has bony children.

"Pizza?" I blankly ask mom. She gives me a nod and I pull out my phone to order pizza. I grab out a wad of cash and wait for the delivery man.
~
After pizza and putting all my shit away I lay on my bed. It's a pretty big basement. There a tv room, a laundry room, a bathroom, and my room.

The walls of my room are blue with a tiny window showing grass and the street. My bed and nightstand are pushed to the side of the room, giving the illusion that my room is bigger.

School starts tomorrow and I have to go early to get my schedule, and by early I mean late because early isn't possible with me. Maybe if you switch my clocks up, but mom says maybe means no.

I reach into my nightstand and pull out my stash of Xanax pills. Life is always better with drugs. Mom would bust my balls if she found out though.

Before I can even take some Charlie breaks through my door with a hand full of barbies clutched in her fist. Shit, I thought I locked the door. I quickly slip the stash into the pocket of my jeans.

"Jack, play barbies with me!" She yells jumping onto my bed. I only allow her to call me Jack. Not even my parents can get away with calling me that shit.

"Not now Charlie," I huff closing my eyes.

"Please, Jack?" She whines waving the dolls in my face. Charlie is my only weakness.

"Fine, but not for long because you need to go to bed," I sigh, taking a barbie out of her hand.
~
Thank god this family has Charlie or, we wouldn't be a family. The day I was found by the police was the best day of my life. Freedom was again a thing and I could see my mom and dad. I was found on August 15th, 2015.

Charlie was barely 2 months old. Mom and dad had already restarted. I got a lot of attention at first from the media and my family. I did interviews and I was on the news. Raymond Floyd, my uncle was convicted and got 71 years in prison.

Mom was shocked that her brother had kidnapped her child. Raymond took me out of my bed through the window as I was sleeping. At first, I didn't register anything that was going on. Until he began pushing me in the trunk of his car. I kicked and fought back, but it wasn't enough I was abducted.

My birthday is November 1st and I was taken November 2nd, 2012 around 11:00 P.M. My mom discovered I was missing in the morning, November 3rd, 2011. Little did she know her crazy-ass brother had taken her kid.

I was held in a bunker in his backyard for 3 years until one day Raymond took me to the park. I played on the playground and watched as he walked away for a phone call. I played with 3 children on the playground until their mother looked at me with a pale face. She simply asked me what my name was and as soon as I said Jackson Peter she called the police. The cops showed up fast and I spaced out after that. My vision blurred as I watched Raymond get tackled.

Free physically, but mentally trapped.
~
I shiver just thinking about what happened. I've blocked out a lot of things.

Just as Charlie leaves the room I pop two Xanax's. It's the only way I'm going to be able to sleep tonight.

A knock at my door causes me to jump. Mom peaks her head in. "Hey, I just wanted to say goodnight. You have school tomorrow so, get up at 6 to get ready. And dad is giving you his old Volvo P1800, let's count that was an early birthday gift."

"Thanks," is all I say. She smiles wildly as I remain cool as a cucumber.

"Really, no emotion?" She asks with a frown. I shrug and she leaves. I do like the car, but it's hard to muster up anything to say other than thanks.