Searching For Her

Chapter Twenty-Four

I stared out at the snow-covered ground. Flecks of snow dance from the sky. I wrapped the sweater tighter around my body and took a sip of coffee. I'm glad to be home.

Once I was discharged from the hospital I stayed with my mom at her house for a while. She told me of everything she'd done to try and help find me and I told her everything that happened to me.

The FBI Agents came over some time in late October to talk about what they'd investigated. The man's name was Chris Nelson. He was born and raised in a small down in Florida. His stories about killing his parents was, tragically, true. With what he had told me, and with the help of authorities in Florida, they recovered the remains of his parents, Maria and John Nelson.

Maria had been stabbed and raped repeatedly until her demise. John, however, died from a single gunshot to the head from his own gun that had been buried with him.

On the property that I'd been held hostage in, the police found the mutilated bodies of three women. All of them had been stabbed and raped repeatedly. They concluded that he'd had them for months before they had died. Hearing that made me sick. While I was held up in the house pregnant with his children he had been torturing those women.

The Agents, however, did bring some comforting words. On the property they found my daughters remains. I asked for her to be properly buried under a tree on my property. They agreed and did so accordingly. However, without my knowledge, they'd also made a headstone for the baby I had lost. When I saw it I fell to my knees sobbing for hours.

It was late December now. I go out to the tree and sit with them both. Sometimes I read to them but others I just sit and talk. Talk about what's going on in the world. What cartoon's I'd think they'd like. It was bittersweet.

I never learned why he had taken me, though. Why he had wanted me to be his makeshift wife of sorts. Why had hadn't just made me one of those bodies buried on the property. Sometimes I feel like it was because I reminded him of his mother but if that were the case I'd be dead, right? I may never know but I know I'll never be the same.

I haven't been to the office since I visited a few days after I was home. Richard was there with his comforting hugs but it all felt wrong. I was behind in what was going on in the world and I was never comfortable with being alone with any man, even Rich. I was ashamed of feeling scared of Rich. I wanted to quit but the company cut some ties and now allows me to work from the safety of my home. No scary men coming out to get me.

I'd also been seeing a therapist. She's nice. I go see her once a month and just chat about how I'm feeling and how I'm recuperating into society. I put on a fake smile and say that I'm doing just great, etc, etc. In reality, though, I'm still terrified.

Some days are better than others but that man's controlling schedule haunts me. Even when I'm starving I can't eat until the clock reads the correct time. Even when it feels like my bladder and bowls are going to explode I can't go unless it's after a meal. My mom has been helpful, though.

I can still hear his voice in the back of my head telling me I'm doing everything wrong.

"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! It's all wrong, Karmen!"

Recently it only happens when I'm doing chores around my mom's house. Some days are better than others but I usually have to keep doing whatever I'm doing over and over again until his voice in my head is satisfied. I've talked about this with my therapist and she just said the usual.

"You've been through a trauma. It's going to take some time for you to get back to normal."

Normal. I don't think I'll ever know what that would mean for me. The broken pieces of myself may have been finally glued back together but I don't hold the same shape I once held. Some pieces are still missing.

I watched as my warm breath fogged in the chilly air. A car crept into the garage outside and I walked back inside the warm house. Mom walked inside, wearing her scrubs, and smiled at me. I smiled back. I'm never going to be the same. I'll always be searching for the girl I used to be. Or maybe, just maybe, she'll come searching for me.