It's about nine o'clock and we've just arrived in front of my building. You know that awkward moment right after a first date when you're not quite sure how you should end the evening, knowing exactly how you want it to end? That's how Todd and I are acting right now, shifting our weight from foot to foot, wringing our hands and constantly in motion, fully knowing we want to go upstairs, make love and never let go of each other. If I can't have him the way that I need, right now, I will settle for a kiss, the kind that becomes part of you, flowing through the veins and weakening the knees.
We've been standing here for about ten minutes, not saying much of anything, but comfortable with that. We both glance nonchalantly at all the couples that walk by us, some hand and hand, others with a discernable emotional distance between them, separated by anger or jealousy or some other emotion. I wonder to myself how we look when we walk down the street, if others are judging us the way we are judging so many others. If they can see that thing that won't links us forever?
I look up at him and into his eyes and there I see the weight of too much suffering for far too long. My heart breaks as it has done so many times for him. It's like looking at a little boy who has never received the love that he so richly deserves and he's so used to being treated badly, he cannot accept love when it is given to him.
"I guess I should go, huh?" he asks rather than states. He doesn't want to leave but somewhere in the darkness, we both know, there is someone waiting for us to drop our guard and catch us in a compromising position.
"Yeah, I guess." He hesitates, leaning forward as if he's going to kiss me but stops himself. There is that frozen point in time where the world seems to stop on its axis as I think of how far this is going to go, out here, in front of everyone. As much as I dread it, I am the one who stops the forward progression. "We can't," I whisper, heated from the closeness of our proximity. He nods his head, backing away from me ever so slowly. Like that, he disappears into the night without saying another word. I watch his frame slowly meld into the darkness, letting it wrap around him and carry him further away from me.
It happens so quickly, my reflexes don't have a chance to react. Something jumps toward me; I don't even see it. It grabs me by the throat, squeezing and cutting off my air supply. I cannot even struggle because all the damned medication I'm on has weakened me and I've foolishly blown off physical therapy more times than I can count.
The lids of my eyes begin to cover the pupils and I fight it as much as I can. But I know I can't; I know I have to let the darkness overtake me. The thing about New York, the sad thing about this city is that nobody ever sees anything; if something happens, you're on your own. As this person carries me in their arms, if anyone sees this, they will think nothing of it; if I am being kidnapped, it's just too bad because they have more important things to do.
I can't really describe the physical state I'm in. I can hear everything bustling around me and I can form thoughts, but I can't fucking act on them! My limbs aren't moving; my entire body has completely shut down. I feel myself being shoved into the back of a car, my wrists are tied behind my back and the same is being done to my ankles.
And then, I am alone. The back door closes, the front opens then quickly closes as the weight of the car shifts. I try to focus on what is happening and plan an escape route, but at this point, I can't move a muscle.
If I had to guess, I'd say we've driven only a couple blocks before stopping abruptly. Once again, the doors open and close; I am being dragged from the back seat, lifted into someone's arms and carried up a front stoop. It feels like we entered a brownstone and we're now in a first floor apartment.
My limbs are beginning to tingle once again, signaling me I will regain their use soon. This person has yet to speak a word to me; he or she moves around methodically, as if they've done this a million other times. My eyes are finally uncovered, but it does me no good because there is nothing but darkness surrounding me. I cannot see their face, only their back as they walk out of the room, locking the door behind them.
I am absolutely terrified because I have no idea what they want. Suddenly, I see a flash out the corner of my eye and the steady buzz of a television or some other sort of audio/visual equipment. I turn toward the buzzing and watch as the horizontal lines come together to form an image.
"Hello Miss Delgado," the unmistakable voice of Jared says just as his face fills the screen. "Told you I'd get you back."
"What-"
"Don't bother screaming; the place is completely soundproof," he chuckles. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day."
"You bastard!" I scream at the top of my lungs.
"You know, you should be nice to me 'cause right now, your life is in my hands."
I always knew he would break me down. I knew I would pay for what I did to him but I had just sort of shoved it to the back of my mind. I never thought he would be so directly involved; maybe he would have me set up for something, I thought, but nothing like this.
"There are bars on the windows, a deadbolt on the door; you're fucked, Miss Delgado."
I look up in the corners of the room and there I see cameras keeping watch over me every minute of every hour. I spit toward on of them, yelling a loud, "FUCK YOU!"
"Oh, you're so eloquent. So, Miss Delgado, what will your client do when his lawyer doesn't show up tomorrow?"
"Don't do this, please."
I don't really expect my words to have any sort of impact on him, but I give it a try anyway. He throws his head back and laughs uncontrollably at my sheer audacity. Jared, I'd ascertained long ago, is psychotic. My legs give out as I sink to the ground in hopeless despair.
I can feel his eyes on me, watching every single move I make right down to the spasms in my muscles. He always did give me a creepy feeling in the bottom of my stomach, but I couldn't quite figure out the reason. I think maybe it's because deep down I've always known, he would kill me without hesitation.
I turn my back to him, knowing from experience that he hates to be ignored. At this point, there is no way I can beat him in a game that requires physical strength; my best chance is to beat him in a mental game. I hear him in the back of my mind, telling me I will never escape, that in the end, this game has been won by him. I hear these things but I don't acknowledge him any further than I already have.
Eventually, the buzzing of the television stops and the room is thrust back into darkness. The floor is cold; it's like lying on a cement slab with no cushion or anything to make it more comfortable. More accurately, it's like the metal surfaces found in morgues, so cold, it's almost as if my skin is being burned by the coldness.
I am trying to remain calm, but that's impossible because I am claustrophobic and ever so slightly afraid of the dark. I am without medication. I am virtually helpless and it's driving me mad.
"Come on, girl. Get it together," I tell myself. "You have to remain calm at all costs."
It is becoming real to me now; I have been kidnapped. There will be no ransom note, no because this isn't about money; this is about revenge. There is no reason to keep me alive. It's becoming real that this man can murder me and feel not one iota of regret.
If my stupid pride hadn't interfered, Todd would never have gone home. If I had enough sense to at least let him walk me to my door, I would be safe and sound right now. Shit!
If I don't show up at home, Rachel won't worry; she'll assume I decided to stay with Todd. He will assume I am home and in bed. It will not be until nine tomorrow that it will dawn on someone that something may have happened to me. That gives Jared enough time to do whatever he wants; we can be on the other side of the country by then.
I tilt my watch toward the slit of light beneath the door and I see that it is just past midnight. I have missed one dose of medication, though I don't feel any different. I turn onto my back and star at the dark ceiling. I'm not sure what I think I'll find up there; maybe I think the answers to the perfect escape will fall from the sky and right into my lap.
My lids are getting heavy and beginning to cover the pupils. My blinks become longer with each passing second. Eventually, what little strength I have dissipates and the sleep covers me like a scratchy wool blanket, needling my skin but more necessary than I would ever freely admit.
*****
CRASH! The door of my "cell" flies open, banging against the dilapidated plaster. I jump up from the floor, slightly disoriented by my foreign surroundings. Gradually, it hits me all over again; Jared has locked me away somewhere. As my eyes adjust, I realize that things don't look quite as bad in the daylight, though it does nothing to change the fact that I have been kidnapped.
A tall, muscular Caucasian stands in the doorway, watching the expressions on my face change in rapid succession. He has a scar on his left cheek, deeper than Todd's and completely vertical. His eyes are what frighten me, they are dark, almost black and his eyelids conceal most of the pupil. But, as I look closer, I see something I didn't expect to see; a little bit of kindness and a lot of humanity.
I immediately begin to think of ways I can use his weakness against him. "Hi," I whisper because my throat is dry.
He gives me a very weak smile and nods. "You need t' go t' the bathroom?"
"Yes I do." I smack my lips together, trying to produce some sort of moisture.
He points to a room to my left which I had not noticed before. "Thanks." The bathroom is about a third the size of the one at my apartment. I quietly open the medicine cabinet, searching for anything I can use to my benefit; it is completely empty. In fact, the only things in the bathroom are the bare necessities; soap, linen, tooth brush and toothpaste. I glance at my watch; I have now missed two doses of medication.
"Are you finished in there?" the tall man asks?
"Um, I'll be right there." I quickly take care of my business and exit the room.
"You hungry?"
I want to tell him "no," because I have no idea what's being done to the food before it gets to me. What if they're lacing it with something and that's how they plan to slowly kill me? If they think I'm not eating, they may try to force feed me, but if I accept, I can eat at my own pace, spitting it out in my napkin, throwing it up; I really don't have to digest it if I don't want too. "Um, sure."
"What d' you want?"
"Um, do you have some fruit?" I ask because I know I need its natural sweetness. If I don't have access to my medication, I have to eat properly.
"Yeah," he answers, quickly leaving the room because I can say anything else.
I glance at my watch, noting I should be in court right now. This is probably when people will finally realize that something has happened to me and they'll start a search. The first thing the police will do is comb the area where I was last seen and I can't be too far from my place. Maybe this won't take long at all; maybe I'll be rescued by the end of the day. It's probably wishful thinking, but at this point, it's all I have.
I pace the small room with my hands on my hips, trying to figure out a way out of this. Just then, the steady buzz of the television snaps me from my thoughts. A courtroom appears and I immediately recognize Judge Hathaway's face; she is the judge presiding over Derek's case. In the bottom right hand corner, there is the "Court TV" insignia and as the camera pans the area, I see Todd in the audience. My heart skips a beat because I know this is the key, he will figure out everything and he will be the one to find me.
"Sometimes it seems like we're all in some kind of prison and the crime is how much we hate ourselves." -- Angela Chase "My So-Called Life"
