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For now though, she was holding on. Taking refuge in her hazy, dazed fog.
The hours ticked by. Sometimes he came. They had a routine; water from the hose, scraps of food thrown down for her to forage through the debris and find, then he raped her and left.
She no longer felt humiliated scrounging for scraps of food, she still wanted to live, to survive this, to go home. She was also no longer embarrassed about having to go to the bathroom in a corner of the pool. At first, even the thought of relieving herself out here, in the place she was forced to live, had left her feeling mortified, but no longer.
She was filthy. The dirt and grime blended with her array of black, purple, and blue bruises, and her hair was a tangled, snarled mess. He wanted to turn her into an animal, and he was succeeding. She ate and drank when she could, she did what had to be done bodily functions wise, and that was it. That was all her life consisted of. She was helpless, completely at his mercy, unable to save herself. She was his pet, and there was no one to stop him from treating her however he wished.
Emily wouldn’t allow herself to think of home and her family. If she did, she was afraid that the brick wall she had built to keep her emotions back would come tumbling down in an instant.
Did they know yet, that she was missing?
She didn’t talk to her mom often, and her dad even less, but she usually spoke with Chloe every day, surely her sister would know by now that something had happened to her. She tried to focus her sluggish mind on figuring out how long it had been since he had taken her. It had been nighttime when he had broken into her house, abducted her, and brought her here. Then there had been another two nights. She thought. She was fairly certain. Perhaps. Well, she wasn't altogether sure, but two nights was her best guess.
That was more than enough time for someone to realize that she had disappeared.
But she had no way of knowing for sure.
That was why it was better not to think of home at all.
To get her hopes up was dangerous. If she let herself believe that he might let her go or that her sister had reported her missing to the police and they would come rushing in to save her, it would make accepting her inevitable death so much harder.
For she knew she was going to die here.
Sensed it in some way she couldn’t really articulate.
She knew the ending, she just didn’t know how much more was to come before they got there. How long did he intend to keep her here? Did he intend to torture her more? How was he going to kill her?
Emily half-wished she knew the answers to these questions.
And half of her was glad she didn’t.
She couldn’t take any more. She couldn’t take any more pain, any more fear, any more anticipation. That’s why she hid behind her wall, where her emotions couldn’t reach her. Where nothing could reach her. She was safe there in the emptiness of a carefully crafted oblivion.
Only she knew she was lying to herself.
There was no place to hide.
Fear and loneliness could find her wherever she went.
There was no escaping them.
She was trapped.
Trapped in this pool and trapped inside her own mind.
There was no escape.
* * * * *
2:58 P.M.
He was in a totally fabulous mood today.
He really was a whole lot smarter than he usually gave himself credit for.
Luckily, he was a patient man. That had made all the difference. If he hadn’t been able to wait and bide his time, holding off until the perfect opportunity presented itself, then he never would have gotten away with it.
But gotten away with it he had.
