Sweat was slithering down my back.
My heart was pounding fast, like the beat of a snare drum.
That familiar laugh kept ringing in my ears.
I heard the lock turn and the door creaked open. The masked captor was back. With a kitchen knife. Imagination running wild with possible torture techniques he would subject me to, my mind wandered to a long forgotten movie about the mafia which I never finished because it was too gory.
"Eat it" he said pushing a plate of rotten sliced apples towards him.
My hand struggled to hold a piece of apple because I had been handcuffed to the bed frame. Using my thumb and fore finger I ate it in one bite.
"Please!" I whispered. "Let me go."
Within seconds the knife was at my throat and his breath on my neck.
"Just like you let me go?
LET ME GO IN THE WOODS ALONE!"
***
"Truth or Dare?"
I didn't know how we ended up playing this moronic game with the neighbourhood kids. It probably had something to do with the long summer day which kept dragging on and on.
I was 11. My brother was 12.
After a monotonous round of "Who do you like?" questions (none of which were answered truthfully) the bottle landed on my brother.
Trying to impress everyone he boldly picked Dare.
"I dare you to go into the woods and bring back a few wild berries to prove it." said one kid.
"But my parents say there are dangerous animals out there" a meek protest offered by the youngest in the group.
"He shouldn't have picked Dare then if he didn't have the guts."
Someone started clucking like a chicken and everyone sniggered.
Willing to prove he was brave enough my brother got up and headed towards the woods. Kids cheered him on and I was amongst them, proud of my big brother. He disappeared into the cluster of trees and we waited. We waited and waited. After fifteen minutes fear began to gnaw at my insides. I didn't believe the campfire stories to be true. We went there to pick berries all the time. No one volunteered to go look for him with me. Scared, all of them went home. I had no choice but to call my parents.
A missing person's report was filed. A community search was arranged. Dogs sniffed through every inch of the area. But we never saw him again. Not until my kidnapper took off his mask and slit his little sister's throat.
