I was hidden underneath my bed, paralyzed with fear. My family was gone, and I was home alone. Until now.

I saw them coming, they pulled up in a windowless van. Three masked men exited the vehicle, and made there way up to my house with soulless determination. Before I knew it, they had kicked down the door and were in my house.

From underneath my bed I could hear them lurking, getting closer, and closer to my bedroom. I felt the warmth of tears rolling down my cheeks as the masked strangers slowly opened my bedroom door. They just stood there, in the doorway, silent.

For a fraction of a second I thought, that just maybe they would leave without checking the room, but almost like they could see through the bed, one of the men demanded, “take him.” I felt a pair of cold hands grip tightly around my ankles, and I was pulled from underneath the bed.

From there on, the whole abduction was a blur. I remember trying to fight back, screaming as loud as I could, but eventually, exhaustion got the best of me.

I was dragged through my own house, and onto the front lawn. This was my last chance, I tried to scream, but another pair of hands was put over my mouth and nose. I could no longer breath. Eventually, everything went black.

I wanted it all to be a dream. I wanted to wake up in my own bed, get ready for school, and see my friends. I wanted to see my family, and be held by someone who loved me, someone who would protect me from harm under all circumstances. However, this was not the case at all.

Instead, I woke up in a dark, windowless room. A plate of stale food sat at my feet. I waited for days, then weeks for help, but it never came.

It’s been six years since I was abducted. At eleven years old, I never had a chance of escape, but I do now.