Her eyes darted around the room, looking desperately for an escape. She could hardly breathe in this room any more. She needed to get out.

It was dark. She could hardly see as she placed one foot directly in front of the other and had her hands out in front of her feeling for something she might bump into. Her finger tips brushed a smooth wall and she trailed her fingers to the right to feel for a door.

Instead of finding a way out, her wrist was closed over by a gloved hand, as was her mouth. The man tossed her screaming self over his shoulder and made his way through a hallway well memorized over the years he'd been there.

The girl squirmed desperately in his arms and didn't pause to take a breath while she screamed for the help of someone. She wouldn't give up until she was free and away from him. And he knew that – he didn't like this one. She was feisty like the others, but she wouldn't give in. He wanted her gone.

But first, before he disposed of her, he would talk to her. He set her up in a chair and strapped her arms to her sides. Tears ran down her face but he chose to ignore them.

"My love," he mocked, kissing her temple while she thrashed, jerking her head so suddenly that it connected with his nose. He clenched his jaw and tried with much effort to control his anger. His frustration. Why was she so mean? Why did she try to fight him? When would she just give in? Never. He knew that she would never stop fighting.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

He ignored her demands and brushed her stray blonde hairs away from her face. "My love, why don't you just stop fighting me?" he asked quietly – staying calm.

"Why don't you just let me go!?" Her voice was strangled. She couldn't seem to speak properly, as her voice was caught in her throat.

"Answer my question," he snapped.

"Because, I don't like you. I don't want to be here. You stole me from my life!"

"Stop crying." He stroked her cheek and she flinched back, but she had nowhere to turn to.