"It was all just a dream," my mother keeps telling me. Thank God it will forever remain a dream to her, but for me it was real. And even now, it is too difficult to forget. Being in a strange foreign place far away from any familiar specks of home. And even worse was being alone, not a single friend or acquaintance to turn to.

I am mature and much more careful now, but sometimes I am afraid. Reading about child kidnappings in the news makes my story look like a Disney movie. Although, I did escape. I did see me family again. I did lived happily ever after. But for most of these children, most of them girls, I doubt that will ever be the case.

Now you will hear my story…nothing more than a strange dream that came to life. I had many strange dreams during my childhood. Yes, even some where I was lost and alone somewhere.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And like many at 10, I had friends. We could walk as far as five blocks from home to the Seven-11 and the Antiques store. School was another matter. My friends wanted to walk to the library near the school to work on a project. They said we could take the bus home because it passes down Serfire Lane, around the corner from where I lived back then. I almost had forgotten that it was January and after only two hours in the library, the sun was setting outside. We had a blast though.

But one of my friends, who thought she knew the bus schedule, had bad news. It seems that we were out of the library just after the bus left from the nearest bus stop and it was the last one of the day. None of us had money to use a phone, so another friend of mine summoned the courage to ask the librarian to use her phone. She called her sister to pick us up.

We waited in the lobby and when she came into the library, we all went out to her car. It was a two-seater. She could only fit two of the three of us in the other seat. I thought for a moment. The Seven-11 was only down Trysath Boulevard. It was a very long street though. But walking down Trysath meant I wouldn't get lost once I found Serfire. I knew these streets well, just never at night. Perhaps now was the time to give this a chance. I told the girls that I would walk down Trysath. "Are you sure?" They kept asking me. "We can squeeze you in." I looked at the car. There was no way that all four of us could've fit in there, even if all of our backpacks could barely fit in the trunk.

The streetlights were about every 10 or 15 feet down Trysath. It would be one or two extra long blocks and then I could see the Seven-11. Trysath was a busy street and I knew to stay to the side as much as possible. It was cold but I was ready for anything…just not a slush rainstorm. I kept walking. I hated the idea of getting sick. But I was getting closer wasn't I? The wind was kicking up which inspired me to move faster to get home. I couldn't run, though. There was ice everywhere and I would be at risk of breaking my leg.

A car pulled over to the streetlight I was walking towards. He must've broken his car. He came out and inspected the car, then tried restarting it with the car door open. I continued to walk by. "Hey," he said. "You need a lift?" It was obvious that this man was one of those my mom has always taught me to look out for. Too shy to deny his request, I kept moving. I was looking down because the slush was getting into my uncovered face. I hoped I was almost there. What if it was too dark and I passed it? I felt a force behind my back and I was slipping backwards. The ice hit me harder than I thought.

All a lie.

Blurry visions of a backseat. A tightening feeling around me…rope. I couldn't move my jaw…tape. I saw light, the sun was rising. But I couldn't get up. I couldn't scream. I felt too tired. I would wake up and finally be home.

I woke up believing that I was in my bedroom. Everything was more plain and spacious than I saw it to be, and everything seemed to echo. There were two windows? My room only had one. I walked over to both of them. One window showed nothing but grass and a few…cows? The other showed a few buildings that looked like they were still standing after being set on fire. I turned back to my bed. Nothing but a mattress. Over the side of the bed were some new rope and an unopened package of masking tape. I opened the door with all of my force. "Mommy!" I cried as I opened the door. Nothing. I screamed hoping the world outside would hear.

I kept screaming until the door open. I was swirled around and smacked in the face. "SHUT THE HELL UP!" said the man from last night. "You're on a farm in another state. The only other person that lives near here is deaf. No one will hear you, and I don't want to hear your scream! So if you don't want to be tied down to that bed with no food for the rest of your life, you will keep that trap of yours fucking shut!"

For the first time, through my tears of pain, I could see the man's true figure. Awful farmer clothing (he couldn't even button his shirt right), paint-stained jeans and a hat. His breath smelled horrible. His shoes had tape on them. He was well built so he could be capable of harm. I could recall of this now, in it's exact detail. But at that moment, I was too horrified for my life that I didn't want to see or think what was happening. All I knew that I was in a house I wasn't suppose to be in with a stranger who was yelling and smacking me. He slammed the door and I jumped on the mattress to sob loudly.

The toilet was nothing more than a hole in the closet. (I'm glad I never found out where it led to.) I only got food when I was asleep. It was strange because eating the nasty food had always made me sleepy. It was usually a small bottle of water and a leftover TV dinner. It was gross. He made me eat his leftovers! What if he had some sort of disease that I was unaware about?

When were the police coming to rescue me? That was all I thought about when I was there. Someone must've known that I was there, my mind was screaming. Please God, call the police! I would literally say these things out loud. If I was lucky, maybe God would've heard my pleas for help. Two days after I had been kidnapped, I had a bad lunch of half-eaten applesauce and half an hour later, I went to sleep on my mattress. I woke up in the middle of the night and looked out the window. Sometime soon, I would hope to see the flashing red and blue coming down the dusty invisible road to get me out. Maybe my cousin Herman would come and save me, but he was nothing more than a security guard on the other side of the country. Still, he was a family hero and I hoped for him to be one for me right now.

Three more days went on. I was reeking really badly. I couldn't wash my hands. The stench of that hole in the closet was killing me, or maybe it was the gross food.

Did my mommy knew that I was gone? She told me that my kidnapping was the worse experience of her life; that I had disappeared without a trace. She told me that the police couldn't find a warm trail to find me. She wanted to know if I had miss her during my kidnapping as much as she had missed me. I told yes, I thought my separation from my family and my friends was my separation from life.

I was lost in thought when I was awake. I couldn't draw, but sometimes I would in my nasty food with the plastic fork. Art was my best subject at school. We did a new project everyday but I had been missing out that day. Everyone tells me that I am smart. A few days before I was captured I remembered my own mother telling me that I was so smart as a baby that I could always get out of things. Now I was in this isolated, smelly, and lonely room wishing myself to become a baby in my mother's arms again, wishing myself to be so smart that I could get out of this. But I was too scared. My friends were inside my head telling me that I was much braver than they were, especially went it came to movies and haunted houses. That must've been why I took that risk of walking home alone.

Another night I woke up and looked out at the strange world. We were still in the states. A few cars parked themselves infront of the house. Being naïve I felt hopeful, but then I thought that these were probably my kidnapper's friends, his allies. They wouldn't have cared. I even thought they had come to help him with whatever they were gonna do to me.

There were a few loud whoops and screams, and a bit of music. A few came upstairs, but no one bothered to open my door. Today, I'm glad that no one did. I hate to think what would've happened if there were others that actually wanted me locked up. I went over to the mattress and went to sleep but the noises kept me up. Suddenly there was banging against my door. I embraced myself for the worse. They were gonna come in and hurt me. More banging, but the knob wasn't turning. I would stare at that doorknob waiting for it to turn. Then, I would call on God to save me.

I feel asleep. The knob never turned. It was daytime when I woke up but I didn't have a clock, it could've almost the next night again, but it felt like morning. I caught a glimpse of the door. Did they come in? Were they hiding? I walked over to the door. It looked loose. The banging must've damaged it. I slightly touched the doorknob. It felt lose too, but perhaps it was some force compelling me to try. I put my hand over the knob and moved it with shut eyes. There was no force. I pulled myself back and then I opened my eyes. For the first time I could see the second floor hallway.

There was no moving and absolute silence. Blindly I walked out of the room like I was quietly coming out in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, but it was daytime. He must've been awake. To my right were stairs and I choked. I didn't know where they were gonna go. I tried to lean over and see if there was a door at the bottom, perhaps leading outside but I almost slipped. The rail caught me. I carefully sat myself on the first step. I could see better. The door was at the bottom. A screen door with daylight shining!

But where was he? I made my move one step at a time. Moving my butt down each step as quietly as possible. Snores were near. Were they his? Or a friend's? Halfway down the steps I saw more of the first floor. It was a trash dump. Cans everywhere and the smell, just as bad. To the left was a trashed dining room. To the right were a few couches. A recliner was faced away from me. On top it looked like hair. I moved a few more steps down. I peeked around and saw his face. I could even remember his facial movements as he made those snores from his recliner.

My foot had touched the floor. I was taking a major risk and I wasn't even wearing shoes. I took them off in my room and they were still upstairs. I could've gone back for them. I would need them to run. I was wise not to have done so. My hand reached for that screen door handle. I pushed it carefully. I could've sworn there was noise, but it was just a whispered click of the door. I was stretching my neck out as far as I could to see his face. It was still the same, but he could've easily been pretending to do so and grabbed me at the right moment. I looked down as I pushed the screen door. I panicked. 'Oh God. It's creaking!' my head screamed. I leaped out onto the porch. I think I made more noise stepping onto the front porch. My hand was fortunately still holding onto the screen door handle. That was a good thing. No grip and one SLAM would've done it. I would've been finished there. My body twisted itself as I place myself in a position to concentrate. I had to close the screen door without making a noise. To anyone now, this would've been a big deal. My life depended on the silence of my shutting the door.

I pushed the door. Thank God there was no creaking, but what about the clicks? I handled the screen door more closely…more than handling a newborn baby. The handle was leaning on something. I was afraid to let go. Maybe that something was all I needed to let go and run. I took the risk. The fingers were now breathing air and stinging from the pain. I put my hand down. The door didn't move. I made a few quiet steps down the porch steps and looked back. Here I was in the silence of the day. No movement from within. I carefully walked in the muddy grass with only my socks. There was the badly burned farmhouse. If I could make it there, I could get a phone and call police.

When I began to run in the daylight I wanted to leap myself across the air. I was free! I even thought that my house was past the burnt one. I kept running. It looked so far away everytime I got closer but finally I was some feet away. I looked beyond the burnt house and back. There was nothing around me and I felt sad. By now, he must've known that I escaped. He could be coming out of the house any minute. He could see me. I found an empty doorway leading into the house and went in.

The walls were stained in burnt black. Some furniture survived the fire and lied amongst the trash. Yes, it was like his house only worse. I walked into the hallway. From here I could see no open windows or doorways to the outside. I sat along the wall and hugged my legs. There was no way he could find me here. Never.

"Who there?!"

I cried 'NO!'. And then the shuffling. "I see mud prints in my house! Don't think you get away from me!"

His house? Then it wasn't my kidnapper. Or maybe it was the kidnapper's secret house. I didn't move. I couldn't escape even if I did have the chance. The shuffling found it's way near. I could see the shadow.

It wasn't him. Thank God it wasn't him. His shadow revealed that of a large man larger than my kidnapper. Fat I hate to say. I lifted my face up hopefully he moved a corner and then…

…I backed away.

The man was better dressed than my kidnapper. His hair was neater too. He didn't take a shower for quite a while, though. So why did I back away? His face. The left side of his face was missing a chunk of bone. He had no left ear. It was as if someone ate off part of his head but he had some pink skin to cover it. His lips were pushed out huge like a duck. I had never seen a more horrible deformity in my life.

"Wha you doing in my house?!" His voice was deep and strange. I thought he was mentally retarded.

But I had to tell him. I pushed myself up and came closer to him, despite his grotesque appearance. "Please mister, I…I got kidnapped! I got kidnapped down the road! I got away but he's going to find me! Mister, please help me!!!!"

"Huh?" he said.

"KIDNAPPED! I GOT KIDNAPPED!"

"Ah! Ah don't hear!"

This was the deaf man that my kidnapper had mentioned. It was true. No one could help me.

I ran around the house searching the floor. Paper and pencil, if I can find those maybe it would help. I found a newspaper and a crayon. I wrote the words as big and bold as I could.

"I WAS KIDNAPPED! PLEASE HELP ME!!!"

I shook the paper in his face. "Ah don't read," he said. That was it. If he couldn't read nor hear I had no hope. I didn't know any sign language. Pointing to myself, he said "I". I sat in midair with my arms around my back my mouth closed in and I was struggling.

"Sitty? Gross? Tied?"

I jumped up as soon as he said tied and shook my head crazily yes. "Why you tied?" I got up to soon. I did the same act again instead I was standing up. "Hiding something?"

"No!" I screamed even though I knew he couldn't hear. I couldn't anymore. I just stood there and cried. "Wha you want?!" he asked in a frustrated matter. "Hungry? Tired? Why you in my house?!" He went back to that again. There was no getting through to him. "Hey," he looked over me. I turned around.

My kidnapper was coming up to the doorhole. He had a rifle in his hand.

He came up to the man and waved to him with a smile. The kidnapper pointed to me and then to himself. The deaf man nodded. My kidnapper gripped his hand on my arm. I never felt such crushing pain in my life. He was dragging me away, but I stayed back with as much force as I could, and all I could do was scream. Maybe the deaf man would understand, just maybe. "Let me go!" I screamed to my kidnapper. The deaf man just watched us dumbfoundedly.

Please…help me, my face pleaded to him. But he would never understand. My kidnapper dragged me as far as outside the deaf man's house but I couldn't go back to the house, never. The kidnapper yanked out his gun with one hand and still crushed my arm with the other. He didn't pull out the gun in my face. The deaf man was still watching us stupidly. "Go home, we're fine!" The kidnapper screamed at him.

I was still crying trying to reach out to the deaf man. I was surprised when he stepped out of his burnt house and came closer to us.

"I said go home!" My kidnapper scream. The deaf man was finally in reach. I was so desperate that I wrapped my uncrushed arm around him. I would have never hugged a smelly large deaf and dumb man, but my life depended on it. My kidnapper came and tried to separate us but I refused. The kidnapper pulled harder. I didn't see what the deaf man was doing. I only remembered all of this crushing. I felt like a meat sandwich between these two smelly old men. I hear one of them scream.

The pain in my arm was gone. I saw myself fall to the ground. I just lied there. My whole body was hurting from all of the crushing. I layed there in the mud for five minutes. I crawled around to see what was going on now. I stood on my knees. My kidnapper lied on the ground the strangest marks were on his neck.

"He dead," I turned around and saw the deaf man. I wanted to hug him so much for what he had done. I was free now. He had saved my life. Suddenly he ran back into his house and I was outside not knowing what to do. I carefully went to his front door. He was on the floor crying, like a baby. I was scared again and confused by the deaf man's actions. I sat outside his house to think.

I could see a bit of my kidnapper's house from here. I walked back to his house. He had a phone. I could see the phone lines. I could call the police. My only worry was what if someone else beside the kidnapper was actually living in that house with us?

I took every caution when I entered the house. I quietly walked around until I found a phone in the kitchen. I was afraid. I didn't know what to say exactly. My friends came back into my head. If I was brave, I could call on these police myself and ask for them to save me.

"Okay, do you know where you are?" The woman on the other side of the phone asked me.

"No. A farm. Another state." I realized that I had more information to give her than I thought. She was surprised to hear my kidnapper was dead. I told her where I was originally from. She checked the records and yes, she told me. My mother filed a police report for my disappearance.

"So no one near the house? No neighbors?" she asked me.

"No," I said beginning to cry.

"Okay now calm down. No one's in the house with you?"

"No."

"Alright, is there a car outside?"

"Yes," I said.

"Are you on a cordless?"

"No."

"Can you find a paper and pencil?"

"Yes," I said immediately seeing a chewed up pencil and post-its on the dirty table."

"Okay, here's what I want you to do," the dispatcher went on. "Take the paper and pencil and right down the license plate number of the car outside. Do you know what a license plate looks like?"

"Yes," I said.

"I'll be right here. Come back as soon as you get the license plate." I went out the kitchen door thinking it was a short cut but I had to run all around the house to find the car. All the while I was horrified to think someone was near. I wrote down the plate. Every number and letter in order. I ran without double-checking back into the house. I gave the numbers to the dispatcher.

"Don't leave the phone! I have to track down the address ok?"

I never let go of that phone but I whined when I had to wait 15 minutes in silence. The sun was setting outside. The kitchen had gotten dark. I had to be the only one in the house. "Are you there?" I heard a voice. I panicked thinking it was my kidnapper. Relieved to hear the dispatcher's voice again.

"Ma'am, is there a road outside your house?"

"Yes," I said.

"No houses around?"

"No," I said.

"Okay, we got an address and we are on the way. Whatever happens, do not leave that house! Stay inside. The police will come and get you. Don't go anywhere."

I could barely say "Thank you" through my tears. The police were coming…to rescue me. My mom was worried. I was going home.

"We are going to call your mother."

I broke in tears.

"I just have one more question. You say the kidnapper's dead? Where was he when you saw him dead."

"Outside, near a house."

"The one you're in?"

"No, a different house. A burnt one near here."

The dispatcher kept me on the phone, which I guess was her job since I was just a kid. Then I heard sirens. I asked her if that was the police. One minute on hold and she told me yes, the police had arrived at the address. The lights came on all over the house. I rushed to the first cop I saw. I was crying, he looked just like my cousin Herman. It wasn't him though. He took me outside and placed me in the back of a police car. How was I gonna explain this to my girlfriends? I was in the back of a police car for the first time, but I didn't do anything wrong!

The police officer left me in the car. The radio was fuzzing with noise loudly. I looked through the windshield. There were several police cars there. Most of them hung around the kidnapper's house inside and out. I was in the car for thirty minutes. I was crying out of happiness. When was I going to see my mother? I wanted to sleep too, but I was a bit scared of doing that after what had happened in the beginning. The officer and his assistant came into the car.

"Young lady, is this yours?" One of the officers held a pair of shoes in his hands. "Yes!" I cried. "You should put them on," he said. "We're gonna take you to the nearest police station and your mother is gonna meet you there, ok? You might have to answer some questions."

"Yes!" I cried again. The two officers knew that I was to relieved to be finally going home even if I didn't returned to my home state until thirty-four hours later.

The police car drove down the long dusty road. I looked out and somewhere in the field were several police cars and an ambulance. They carried my kidnapper's dead corpse into the ambulance. From the left of my view, two men had grasped a large man in the middle. It was the deaf man who had saved me. He was put in a police car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The deaf man was found guilty of murder. I told them in court how he saved my life. I spared him from execution and serious prison time. Instead he was sent to an institution for the deaf. I never got to thank him. My mom said that I should take some time before I could really do anything again, like go to school and see my friends. Instead, my friends met me. I had to see a counselor to put this behind me.

Adults were always right, I pushed the whole experience away to go on with my life. I could and would be a normal girl! My mom cherished every moment she had with me more than I could cherish life. She was afraid of losing me again.

I understand now. I am a mother myself. And I take every caution possible with my children. When they are old enough I will share my courageous story with them. I can show them that miracles were possible if you had courage.

This won't happen to everyone and that is what had saddened me the most. Why is it that I lived? Why is it that I returned to my family after only a week when others will never see theirs again? Was my family lucky? Someday, I hoped to show children that there can and will be a way to return home. If it could happen to me, then please God, let it happen to someone else. Let me share my miracle.