She woke up to the ambient light cascading through her window as she lay next to her husband, who is still asleep peacefully beside her. She smiled, he was always one to sleep in. She laid there for a few minutes, listening to the cars drive by, and thinking up what she wanted to do for the day. It was a brilliant summer morning in July, and summer was her favorite season. It was Sunday, and her and her husband had the whole day seemingly to themselves. As she sat there and looked around, she thought about how happy she was. Life wasn’t always easy for Sarah. In her teenage years she had struggled finding herself, and she came from a poverty stricken area. At times, although she hated to admit it, she had wanted to give up. As she gazed out the window now, a sense of pride hit her. She had worked endlessly to get where she was now, and she was happy. She didn’t know when the last time she could say that was.
She looked at the clock, it was around 7 in the morning. Perfect, she thought. She got up quietly, and slipped on her fuzzy slippers that her husband had gotten her that Christmas. As she made her way to the kitchen, she admired her home. They had gotten it only a year ago, and she loved it dearly. It had been her dream to live in a house like this since she was young, and she felt very accomplished and fulfilled. She went over to her freezer and pulled out a berry mix that she had made the night before. Absent-mindedly, she added it into her blender and made herself a smoothie. This had become a habit of hers, because almost every morning since they moved in she had gone on a morning run.
It had become something that she grew to love, as she ran cross country in high school and felt a duty to keep in shape. She had been making smoothies before her runs because they gave her energy, without upsetting her stomach greatly. She took a sip and decided that it was perfect, then she went off to get changed. She wore some black leggings, her favorite tennis shoes, and a regular t-shirt. She then headed towards the bathroom, where she washed her face and put her hair up into a clean, high ponytail, just like always. It was a nice day, and she was eager to go on her run. About 40 minutes after she had woken up, her smoothie was finished and she was ready to go. She didn’t think to say goodbye to her husband, why bother waking him? It was just a short run after all.
As she started running her usual routine around the neighborhood, she thought. She thought about regular things, like what she was going to have for lunch, about how she was planning on visiting family later, and how nice of a day it was. About an hour later, she passed by a park that seemed to have a birthday party starting up. She blushed as she wondered if she and her husband would have kids, and thought about how nice it would be to have cute parties for them. A half hour goes by, and that marks the halfway point for her jog. She finds herself in a calm, more scenic area. Of course, she had been here before, but it looked particularly welcoming today. “Why not?” she said to herself as she thought about stopping to enjoy the view. She stood for around 5 minutes or so, just appreciating the beauty of it all.
However, she was interrupted by a man’s voice calling out to her. “Nice day, isn’t it?” An older man, she guessed to be about 50, asked her in a friendly tone. Although she was paranoid, I mean who wouldn’t be? Women these days have to be careful, she thought. But he seemed just like a friendly man, and she felt slightly ashamed of herself for even thinking such a thing about him. So she replied. “Yes, it really is. What are you doing out here, so early?” “I was just about to ask you the same.” He laughed gingerly as he continued, “I’m not from here, but I just figured I’d stop and do some sightseeing before I continue on the road.” He went on to explain that he was a semi truck driver, and that driving gives him just the right amount of freedom to stop and go sightseeing every once and a while.
She thought he was a nice man, and so when he offered to show her some of the pictures he’d taken while on the road, she didn’t bat an eye. He said that they were taken on an old polaroid that he had, so they walked a few minutes back towards the street to retrieve them from his truck. Sadily, she would never make it back to the road. When Sarah turned to glance at him, she noticed that he had a desperate look in his eyes. Although she couldn’t place it then, later she would realize that something was wrong, very wrong. As they continued walking, he slowly pulled out a gun that had been concealed within his pocket. The next thing that Sarah knew, she had been shoved to the ground, and the unnamed stranger had a gun put to her head.
At that moment, everything started moving very fast. Her heart was beating at a rapid rate, she was suddenly aware of the fact that she might pass out. As she looked around, she realized how vulnerable and dangerous her situation was. It was early in the morning, and nobody knew where she was. There was a slim chance that there might be a passerby to help, but she knew that she could not count on that. She had to think quickly. She was in good shape and she figured that she could fight him off, if only she could manage to get the gun out of his hand, or at the least away from her. So she lunged at him, with all that she could. Growing up the way she had, she was aware of the danger that she was in. She was scared, terrified. But she remained cool and focused. However, so did he. Although he was older and seemingly out of his wits, with a swift hit from the backend of his gun, he knocked her out. Sarah awoke, in a dimly lit room that smelled of mildew and lack of use. From looking around, she could gather that she was in a basement or cellar of some sort, and then it hit her. Tears streamed down her face, like rain splashing down a gutter during a storm. After sitting there, hungry and scared for her life for what seemed like forever, she really started to lose hope. She thought, as it was all that she could do. She thought about how in her teen years, how desperately she had wanted to die. How she would cry endlessly, just begging the world to end her pain. She thought of how happy she was, just a few hours ago. How her husband was probably just waking up, and how she might be able to text him if the man hadn’t taken her phone.
Lastly, she thought about how cold, and how dark it was. In contrast to the outside world that she had just come from, she was now in a dark, damp, and hopeless place. Oh how she wished she were at home with her husband. How she regretted not saying goodbye to him this morning, because it very well might just be her last. She wondered how just a few small decisions could lead to something so catastrophic. How fragile her life really was. What was he going to do with her? She was tied and gagged and all her efforts to escape failed her. She felt tired. It had taken her a lot of effort to attempt to escape, but in the end it had no results. Was this it? Suddenly she heard laughing, but not from in the room with her. From all her bullies and peers, who said she’d never get anywhere in life. Were they right? Was all her work really for nothing?
Her mind flashed back to something that she had seen on the news a few weeks ago, about a young girl in her early twenties who had been kidnapped and locked in a basement, and eventually starved to death after being tortured gruesomely. At the time she had just thought of her as another statistic. Another one of the many women who were brutally killed or attacked each year. But what happens when you are one of those women? When you become just another number? She was athletic, smart, and had a very bright future ahead of her. She had a husband who loved her dearly, a job that she spent many sleepless nights trying to get, and some stranger could just come and take it all away from her? Hours upon hours passed, and she became sore and exhausted. The stranger who had once looked at her with kindness came in finally, after almost a whole day had passed. However, that kind stranger that she met in the park was no more. He looked upon her with malice and hate, and he smiled in her sorrow. He took a needle from within his pocket and despite her struggle, injected her with it.
And as she lost consciousness for the last time, she realized how normal, and seemingly mundane the day was. No thunderous clouds, or dark, dreary nights. These things can happen to anyone, with no reason, warning, or even a single worried thought. She had no sense of dread when she awoke that morning, no fear of the day to come. It was a nice day, and these things don’t happen on days like this. Except they do. As she writhed in pain and struggled to escape for the last time, she realized that was the scariest part of it all.