Author: Shady Shinigami PM
About three years ago, Ryan was kidnapped. And now he has finally come home. But his family has changed. His friends have changed. He has changed. Nothing is the same. And he's still suffering.Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 38 - Words: 85,822 - Reviews: 264 - Favs: 89 - Follows: 60 - Updated: 05-17-12 - Published: 05-23-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2917428
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Now, this story is based off of "When Jeff comes Home." Well, thats were I got the idea. And a wee bit of the plot. Basically I took the "Boy kidnapped returns home after a few years"
And the book, "When Jeff comes Home," was based off a true story of a boy named Steven Stayner. His story really moves me. I won't tell you though, you'll just have to look it up. But Steven Stayner's story, When Jeff comes Home, and my story, are all different is big ways.
Just wanted to make that clear.
Anyway, it probably won't be a very good first chapter, but I think the story will get better as I progress.
I was outside with my little brother Steven, who was four years younger to my then thirteen, my dad, and my stepmother, Terry. The grass underneath our blanket was green and soft. It had been Steven's idea to have a picnic, and I admit, I thought it was pretty weird. I mean, a picnic in our front yard? How stupid was that? But Terry, who had raised me since I was six, thought it was a lovely idea. And since she liked the idea, my dad liked the idea. So soon everyone was up for it. And I didn't want to be that one loser who ruined it for everyone. So I went along.
Terry started to hand out the sandwiches, putting one hand on her swollen belly as she held them out to me and Steven.
"Thanks mom." Steven said. Steven had little to no memory of our mother, and since Terry had been around since he was only two, he had no problem with calling her mom. I didn't either-she was more a mother to me than our real mom-I just never got into it. So I just called her Terry. But Terry didn't mind. In fact, I think she was kind of flattered.
She put a hand her stomach, as she stretched to hand us our drinks. Then she flinched a little.
"Is she kicking?" Dad asked gently, looking at Terry with nothing but love and pride in his voice. She smiled and nodded. "Yes, but it will all be worth it."
"Can I feel her kick?" Steven asked, then put his hand gently on Terry's stomach before she even answered. He waited silently, not speaking, as if sound would scare the baby away. Then he giggled and pulled his hand away. "She kicked!" he said excitedly, and Terry smiled at him warmly. Then she looked at me.
"Would you like to feel Ryan?"
I'd felt the baby kick tons of times. The excitement and wonder of it had worn off long ago. I almost politely refused, but then I once again remembered that there was actually a tiny person inside of her, living there. In the small, enclosed dark. Like it was the only place in the whole world. The dark must have been so nice for the baby. So I scooted closer to her, but instead of my hand, I gently lay my head down on her stomach.
The baby kicked. I laughed, and I heard my father laugh with me. I looked up at him and said, "When are you guys gonna come up with a name?"
Terry and dad looked at each other and then back at me and Steven. "Well," dad said, "We haven't come up with a name yet. How about we all think of one?"
Steven glowed with happiness. He looked at me, so I smiled back and ruffled his hair. He beamed when I did that. I knew he looked up to me, almost as much as I looked up to my father, a fair, loving, and successful man. Steven had our father's brown hair, and blue eyes. I took after our mother, with my windblown black hair, and hazel eyes. I hoped the baby girl would take after Terry, red hair, brown eyes. We would be a very colorful family, of that I was sure.
We spent the next hour or so enjoying our picnic lunch, discussing good names for the baby. We still hadn't come up with one at the end of the hour, and dad had to get to work soon. He stood up and stretched. "Ah, I really enjoyed this lunch." he said, helping Terry to her feet. "Thanks for doing this guys."
He winked at me, meaning he knew that I hadn't wanted to do this. I winked back. "I'm a sucker for pregnant ladies."
Terry laughed. "Come on honey." she said to dad. "Lets get you ready for work."
"Will you stay outside with me, Ryan?" Steven asked, his eyes round and pleading. I looked at dad, who ruffled my hair as he and Terry went in.
"Okay." I told Steven, and his eyes light up like a Christmas tree. He jumped to go get stuff for us to play with. First we played with his three cars. They had been mine until I turned eleven, and then I gave them to him. He let me play with the blue one, knowing it was my favorite one. So we raced them up and down the patio, and crashed them into each other.
Me and Steven turned around to the voice. I smiled in greeting. "Hey, Joey!" I called down the driveway that he was coming up. He raised his hand in a wave. He had blond hair, but I didn't know what color his eyes were. Which is odd, because we've been best friends since the second grade.
"Sup, Ryan? Hey, Steven."
Steven smiled at him and asked, "Wanna play a game with us? We could play Frisbee! Ryan loves Frisbee!" Which was true. I like running around, it helped keep me in shape. And for some reason, chasing the Frisbee made it a little more fun.
Joey smirked. "Sure why not?"
So we spent the next hour throwing and chasing our purple Frisbee around the yard. After a while, Joey asked, "You wanna come over to my house tomorrow? I gotta new video game."
"Sure." I answered. "I'm gonna kick your a...butt." I grinned, remembering to use appropriate language around Steven. Joey grinned and made the thumbs down sign. "No way, buddy. Your going down!"
Suddenly, as Steven was running to catch the frisbee, he tripped on a rock and fell. He landed on his face, his jaw hitting the ground painfully. I expected him to start to cry, but instead the young boy sat up and looked at his injured knees, which had red cuts on each.
"Ow!' he complained, gently brushing the dirt out of the wounds, so they wouldn't get infected.
"Oh, that looks kinda bad. We should get you in to clean those off." Joey said, leaning down to help Steven up. He looked at me. "Wait right here, we'll be right back, okay?"
I nodded absently as he helped Steven too his feet. Joey didn't have any siblings, so if he wanted to take on the older brother role for a minute or two, I could live with that. I watched Joey lead Steven into the house, then turned to find something to occupy my time with. My eyes landed on the little blue car, which I picked up and looked over. However, without anyone to play it with, it was of little entertainment to me. I put it in my jean pocket.
I picked up the frisbee from were it had been discarded on the ground. I pulled my arm back, getting ready to chuck it across the lawn. Suddenly there was an arm slipped around my waist, and I could feel whoever it was behind me pressing against my back. I instinctively began to thrash madly, and opened my mouth to scream for my dad.
A hand closed over my mouth. My fingers grabbed at it and I tried to claw it off, the whole time screaming as loudly as I could. But I couldn't get it off and so my screams were muffled. I twisted in the person's grip and managed to jab them in the stomach with my elbow. The man behind me let out a huff of pain, but didn't let go.
"Stop struggling." he hissed in my ear and I managed a muffled, "No!"
Suddenly I was off the ground, kicking my legs and throwing myself backward against him. I still had the frisbee in my hand and I threw it as hard as I could at the living room window, trying to get someone's attention.
'Dad!' I thought. 'Terry, Joey, Steven! Someone!' For a moment I heard nothing beside the noise I created from struggling. Then my dad's voice, "Don't throw things at the window!" But that was it. He didn't come outside, and I was still being kidnapped, and no one was saving me! Then I felt something pressed up against my back and I stopped fighting. The man behind me laughed.
"Correct. I do have a gun pressed to your back." His voice was husky and calm, and it scared me. "Keep struggling, or trying to call out and I'll blow your spine to bits."
And that was enough to stop me.
The man started to lead me across our lawn and over to a car parked right in front of our house. That car had been there for the last thirty minutes, and it chilled me to think that he had been looking at us that long, even looking at my little brother.
We started to cross the street and my eyes darted left and right, trying to find someone to help me. There had to be someone! I couldn't be all alone out here. But as he opened the backseat to his car and pushed me in, I felt as if I was the only person left in the whole world.