The feeling of a pounding heart is unreal, the struggle to be quiet when shaking and breathing is uncontrollable. The creaking sounds a wood floor makes, that’s the worst. The sound of each wood panel making its way down my hallway. For a quick second I thought my hiding place was good, but I knew it wasn't, closets are never left unnoticed. I bit down on the sleeve of my hoodie pulled over my white knuckles to stay quiet, I heard the stranger open my door and slowly pace around my small room.          
          

Suddenly they spoke, it was a very deep voice belonging to a man I’d never heard. I froze and listened. He was teasing me, speaking the words, “I wonder where she could be?” He made his way around my room, I could only assume he looked under the bed but then his footsteps got closer and louder, I bit down even harder on my sleeve to stop myself from crying out, hot tears streamed down my face. He slid the closet doors open so fast, it’s like it didn't even happen. I screamed as loud as I could as he grabbed a hold of my 5’7 ,120 pound body, squeezing my sides so tightly I gasped for air.
            

I thrashed and kicked but it was no use, he was a strong man over 6 feet tall and built like a bodybuilder. He picked me up and slammed me on the ground knocking all the air I had left from the struggle right out of my body.  He put a cloth over my nose and mouth area as he held me down, I didn't know what was happening. After a matter of seconds I felt sleepy, my attempt to get free got slower and weaker, then it went black.
           

I dreamed of my family two nights before, we were all eating dinner at the dining table. My mother Leighann at one end of the table and my father Dean at the other. My fourteen year old brother Andy sat across from me cutting his chicken while we talked about our plans for the weekend. He was leaving for his basketball camp the next morning and he couldn't stop talking about it. Of course my parents were working, my mom and dad worked together as home retailers here in Palm Springs California and they were hardly home. The dream felt real until the image started to fade away.
            

I opened my eyes and looked around, I’m in a dingy apartment that seems to be abandoned and smells of urine. My head is pounding with a massive headache. I quickly remember what happened and try to yell and get out but theirs tape over my mouth and my hands and feet are tied to the chair I'm sitting on. All that escapes my mouth is a muted scream, seconds later a hand is wrapped around my mouth and something cold is against my throat. The stranger shows me the blade and I can see his reflection in it, its the same man who kidnapped me from my home. He’s a white man in his forties with a bald head, his eyes are dark green and he has bags under his eyes, he hasn't shaved and his stubble is rubbing against my neck as he holds his finger up to his mouth and whispers “Shh.”
          

The stranger pulls out a bottle of liquid with the words “Chloroform” written on it and a white rag. He puts the rag over the top of the bottle and tips it on its side. I remember the rag from earlier and start to move my head away in the opposite direction to avoid the sleepy liquid. As he brings the rag closer he grabs my head forcefully and sticks the rag in my face, the familiar feeling consumes my body for the second time.  
            

I didn't dream this time, I didn't try to scream or get out. I froze as I heard my name on the TV screen, my head snapped up to see my home covered by police officers and yellow “DO NOT CROSS” tape keeping back reporters with flashing cameras taking pictures of my mother and father leaving the crime scene. The words, “Sixteen Year Old Avery Morris Kidnapped By Wanted Criminal Jack Cornell” scrolled on the bottom of the old screen.  
           

I was shocked, couldn't move, couldn't think. Just couldn't believe it. His voice broke my thoughts, “Wow, would you look at that, you're famous!” I jumped and spun my head around as he walked towards me and ripped the tape of my mouth, leaving a trail of pain.“What do you want?!” He looked me up and down, biting his lip and making me uncomfortable. He picked up a lock of my black hair, twirling it between his fingers. “I've had my eye on you for awhile, very beautiful girl.” He said as he walked away leaving me feeling violated and scared. I shuttered and turned my attention to the TV, what I saw on the small screen frightened me, images of girls who looked just like me. Black hair, green eyes… All dead. This man was a murderer, with an obsession for young girls who fit the description of his deceased wife.
           

Panic started to set in as I cried quietly in my chair. He sat watching TV braiding my hair, occasionally his ice cold fingertips brushed my neck making me quiver. The TV displayed flyers of me appearing in every gas station and grocery store worldwide. They used last years school picture, my black hair flowed over my small shoulders and my green eyes lit up as I smiled widely for the picture. I liked the photo, I looked happy.
           

“Wake up!” Yelled Jack, I didn't even know I had fallen asleep. “Time to Go.” I tried to plead for my life, “ GO WHERE?? NO PLEASE!” He dragged me to his car, a tan mom van waiting for me to enter. Without a reply he lifted me into the back, taping me down to the chair. We began to roll forward out of the empty lot and I noticed the gas tank only had a quarter left.  I began to make a plan in my head. There was a bolt under the chair that I could unscrew using my fingernail, I’d get the bolt and take off my duct tape. Then when we stopped for gas I’d run out of the back of the van and into the store and tell them who I am and that I needed help.
          

I put my finger nail into the groove of the screw and turned, it came loose pretty quickly. I began rubbing it against the duct tape on my hands. Jack was too busy concentrating on the AM radio to notice. I carefully reached one hand down and did the bottom duct tape. I started to see signs for gas stations and he slowed down and got into the turn lane to get gas. My heart was pumping so fast but I was ready to run as fast as I could. There were not many people at the gas station but I could see workers inside. He pulled into a pump and got out of the car.
          

I counted down in my head, Five… Four… Three…Two... I was about to go when he turned around and saw my hands and feet free. I sprang up and tried to go for the doors of the van, my head was pounding and my legs were shaking. He grabbed onto my ankle from the other sliding door and tried to yank me back. I kicked and squirmed as hard as I could and his hand slipped down and took my shoe off .  I took my chance and jumped down and ran as fast my legs could.  Jack was too fast, he caught up to me and grabbed my hair yanking me back. I screamed to a women walking out from the convenience store with a coke and chips, “Call 911 My names Avery Morris!” She dropped the snacks and put her phone to her ear and spoke into the phone frantically. Jack picked me up and hauled me back to the van and threw me in. I screamed and kicked protesting, reaching my hand out to the women who stood staring still on the phone.  
       

Jack hit the gas and we flew forward, I thought my life was over...But about three minutes down the road I could hear sirens, the police were tailing us. Jack was taking every turn he could to lose them, he took a sharp turn and the tires skidded out and the van rolled. My body felt like a rag doll being thrown around the van as we rolled. Once it stopped, the last thing I heard was the tires of the police cars come to stop.
       

I woke up to a bright light, once my eyes adjusted I looked around. I saw my family to my right all crying tears of joy. They told me I had a concussion from the accident but I was okay. They said Jack Cornell was rotting in a jail cell as we speak. I joined in on the joyful crying as I hugged my family for the first time in days. It took months to feel normal again, and blonde hair dye. Sometimes I can still see his face in the reflection of the blade, I wonder how I survived when I was in fact, staring into the green beaty eyes of death.