Page 2 of Romeo Pagani

It was at complete odds to what Ishouldhave been feeling—terror, anxiety, panic.

Pitch-black darkness surrounded me, not just because my eyes were squeezed closed, but also thanks to the sack that was over my head. The musty smell of the material burned against my nostrils, distracting me from all of the other smells in the back of this moving box.

I swallowed, wincing as the rope that was tied around my throat to keep the sack over my head tightened. It was the least of my problems though. Especially as my brain started to pay attention to what was around me.

Shouts and cries started to penetrate through the serene peace I’d created. It was breaking apart, fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces.

But at least I wasn’t in this alone. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a really bad thing.

Truth was; I was afraid. Afraid that if I let the calm disappear, I wouldn’t be able to protect myself.

The truck suddenly rocked to the side and I reached out, grabbing at thin air as if it would stop me from falling, but it didn’t. I thrashed to the side, my hip making painful contact with the metal floor followed by my head smacking off of something sharp. I tried to scramble back into a sitting position, but I couldn’t gain any traction. Nothing was there to help me.

Shit. I was stuck.

I tried again, but there was literally nothing there. Dammit. I was trapped.

My breathing picked up, panic staring to set in.

I couldn’t let it take ahold of me.

I couldn’t let the terror seep into my bones.

Ihadto be strong.

I had to get through this and make it to the other side.

I just needed to stay alive long enough for Uncle Caden to find me.

My eyes fluttered closed as wetness leaked from my head and down my check. Every part of me wanted to try and sit up again, to right myself, to push all of the darkness surrounding me out, but it was hard. My head was saying one thing, but my body had given in already.

This morning I’d been walking to my first class of the day, dead set on making my sophomore year one to remember. My freshman year had been nothing but studying and adjusting to college life, but this year was going to be different. This year I was going to accept invites to parties and make real friends. I was going to fit in, dammit. Something that I knew my parents would have wanted for me. But it wasn’t always easy, especially as I wasn’t like everyone else here.

I’d skipped normal school because of my uncle needing me to be on the road with him, so when I got the grades from homeschooling to apply for college at sixteen, I’d sent off all of the applications possible. And now, at just turned seventeen, I was about to start my second year of college. Most kids my age were starting their junior year of high school, but then, I wasn’t like most kids. I never had been.

Sometimes I wished that I was like them just so I could do all of the “traditional” high school things. Homecoming, prom, going to football games. But instead, I was the nerd in the corner, using my schoolwork as an excuse to not go out.

I sighed. Maybe if I wouldn’t have gone to college so early, I wouldn’t be where I was right now.

Everything happened for a reason, right?

My heart raced in my chest. Maybe if I told them that I was only seventeen and a minor, they’d let me go. Maybe they’d made a mistake and was supposed to take someone else. My stomach churned, my head throbbing. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be doing this much thinking, that was crystal clear.

I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing, so I hauled in a deep breath as the image of my parents flashed in my mind. It was always the same picture, the one that I’d committed to memory only moments before they were taken from this earth—taken from me.

Mom had her head thrown back, laughing at the total dad joke that my dad had told her. A whisper of a smile pulled at my lips as I remembered them, as I felt the same feeling I had when I’d been in the back of the car—peace, happiness, hope.

Hope.

I hadn’t had any of that since that night. Not since the oncoming car swerved into our lane on the country road. Not since I screamed at the top of my lungs for help while I held my dying mother’s hand. Not since I stayed in the back of that car, both of my parents dead, just waiting…

Waiting…

Waiting for someone to save me.

Just like I was now.

I was always relying on other people—or a particular person—but maybe it was time I saved myself. Maybe it was time I became the woman I’d always dreamed of and fight my way out of this.

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