The Trapped

16

- D I A R Y  E N T R Y #2 -

Anonymous

11.08.16 // 9:37 a.m.

The message came out today. That terrifying, breath-stopping message that says someone you knew has died. Everyone knew by now that Blaire was dead. Well... that's what they thought.

The search party was canceled as everyone left and went to go grieve by themselves. But, no one knew that the killer was right there in the group.

No one knew I "killed" Blaire. But, I know something no one else knows. I know who I killed. It was an innocent person who is now dead because of me.

I killed Blaire. I killed Blaire. I killed Blaire.

It is as if repeating it over and over again would somehow make it true. But I didn't kill Blaire.

Blaire isn't dead.

Sincerely,

No One Important

- B L A I R E -

11.09.16 // 9:34 a.m.

MY HEAD IS fuzzy when I wake up and I am too warm. I am laying in a bed, wrapped delicately in red silk sheets like a cocoon.

My clothes are gone, replaced by a dark red nightgown that reaches just above my knees. I sit up in bed fast and immediately get dizzy from a head rush.

I grip my forehead as I stare around the room I am in. It is big- with a large vintage tv tacked on the wall in front of me and a grey couch sitting in the far back corner.

There is a door that leads to a washroom, a bureau- without any mirrors- and a small coffee table. Red drapery curtains fell loosely over the big window, blocking out the only bit of sunshine I would be able to see.

There aren't any pictures on the wall, no paintings, and even no sculptures. Everything looks so simple, yet so elegant.

In one of the two straight-backed chairs that are pushed against the wall sits T. He is leaning on his elbows, one hand holding up his face that rests on his palm and the other in his hair.

He is staring at me with big blue eyes that burn in between every c***k and flaw in my body. Then he smiles, a creepy all-tooth smile, and stands up from his chair. He begins to walk towards me and I scoot backward in the bed until my head hits the backboard.

     "There is no need to be scared," he tells me.

He crawls on the bed, making it dip from his weight, and sits right next to me, still smiling.

"How are you?" He asks, taking one of his long, slender fingers and pushing some stray curls behind my ears. I gulp nervously and don't answer him, making a frown take over his smooth features.

"That is no way to treat your lover, Rose. You should know this," he says.

"Get the f**k away from me," I whisper harshly, my voice cracking slightly. His eyes harden and he lifts his hand and brings it down onto my cheek. I cry out in agony and he covers my mouth with his cold hand.

"You are going to wake the children," he whispers in my ear. "You need to behave, Rose. Come with me, there is something I need to show you."

When I don't move off of the bed, he grabs me by my hair and yanks me up until I am forced to stand on my feet. He uses a key to unlock the door and pushes it open smoothly. We step out into a dimly lit hallway that looks never-ending on both sides. T grips my wrist tightly and tugs me in the direction of his choosing.

"You won't get away this. My family will find you," I tell him and he laughs loudly, the sound echoing in the hallway and bouncing off of the walls.

"Rose, honey, I am your family now. Besides, everyone thinks you're dead," he says and my stomach drops. Fear kicks into my rib cage and my instincts immediately take over my body. I bring my knee up and collide it with T's stomach. He lets go of my arm and doubles over in pain.

     "You b***h!" He shouts as I run off down the hallway. I look for a way to escape -- a window, a door, anything. But, there is nothing except a long, narrow hallway. I stop in my tracks and hear T's light footsteps behind me. I close my eyes as one of his long arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him.

     "There is no escaping, Rose," he whispers. He grips my wrist again and begins to pull me back in the direction we were originally going. I begin to silently cry, trying hard to free myself from his tight grasp but he only holds on tighter, his long nails digging painfully into my skin.

What did I do to deserve this?

Moments later, we reach a big wooden door that had intricate designs carved into the front and large metal handles. T enters a code into the pad on the side and pushes the door open. He turns the light on and what I see in front of me makes my jaw drop open and a scream escapes from my lips.