Just Imagine It

Just imagine it:

The palm trees flooding the scene, the thumping beats beneath my feet, the warm summer night breeze, the throb of music, the bustle of people with one intention...

To go fudging crazy.

It was crazy. People were dancing in the road... It was fucking mental. I couldn’t get enough. Club after club, we danced, we sang, we laughed.

Of course, Carrie was out of control. Hands in the air, screaming, grabbing every guy that walked past: she was loving it. I knew she was way past it; I was about to take her back to the hotel from the 50th bar we’d be in. But I saw him. And I had to stop.

He looked so casual, with his left elbow propped against the bar, with his slanted posture, his bottle of beer in his left hand. No one would have known that he was spying on me. Hunting me. I couldn’t make him out properly; it was dark in the club. I sure did recognise him, though.

His name was Mike Nolan. He had taught biology at my old school, before I’d finished my A-levels. Every girl fancied him, most girls in his classes tried to impress him. Of course, no one succeeded. I can’t say I had the chance; he’d only ever taught me for one spanish lesson. And that was textbook work.

It was bizarre to see him, to say the least. In my head, he will was still Mr. Nolan. He was still a teacher. He’d seen me first; when he’d seen me looking, he smiled. He walked over to me. I tried to act as normal as possible, which as difficult when you’ve had one too many pina coladas. At this point, I was sort of panicking.

He spoke to me. I couldn’t hear the words, the music was too loud. He could see I was puzzled, so he leaned in closer. His lips touched my ear.

“It’s Tamzin, isn’t it?” I smiled and nodded. I was very shy. “Let me buy you a drink.”

I didn’t decline. As feeble as it sounds, I didn’t want to appear rude. I wasn’t completely stupid, though. I didn’t have a sip of the beer he’d bought me. He’d noticed, of course.

“Not thirsty?” He grinned. His beautiful grin. How he loved my discomfort. I put the beer on the bar, waved goodbye and set off to find Carrie, who was in the corner grinding against some guy. I wasn’t in the mood to converse with weird ex-teachers of mine. I thanked God that he didn’t attempt to persuade me to stay. I just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

I pulled Carrie away from mystery man, dragged her out of the bar, and lugged her all the way back to the hotel. I can’t say she was best pleased. She collapsed onto her bed.

“Why did you do that?”She was slurring. “I mean, it’s only...”She was drooling as her eyes were closing. She was out like a light.

I’d switched the light off, got changed in my pyjamas and got into bed. I was partly excited to tell Carrie that Mr. Nolan had bought me a drink.

I didn’t realise how lucky I was to escape.

Chapter 1:

I look back to that night with apathy. I feel empty, all the if-onlys drained from my system. These four walls are suffocating me.

I can’t tell you how long I’ve been stuck in this cellar for. It stinks of drains, cigarette smoke and piss, where there are no windows. I can’t even tell what time of day it is. Just 24 hour darkness. And I’m sick of it.

My shoulder’s bruised from banging against the metal door and I’m so, so hungry. He drops me cereal bars through this little slot in the door. I don’t even know that it’s him giving them to me. I used to ignore them. I used to refuse being treated like an animal. But I grew up. This is life: Helpless, surrounded by my own piss and scared out of my wits.

What if this really is my life? Is he going to keep me here forever? Will he make me do... stuff after I’m so vulnerable that I can’t say no? I’m so scared.

I’ve stayed, curled up in this corner for a long, immeasurable time. I start to crawl around. There are probably daggers on the floor. Ha! I should be so lucky...All I can feel is a cold, concrete floor, as I patter it with my hands. I’m too weak to even stand up. My bones are weakening, my sight is going. At least I know how the Chilean Miners felt.

But I’m sick of snippets of optimistic thinking. I want to find something that will hurt me. Kill me. Believe me, I know trying to escape from this place, alive, is useless and impossible. Screaming, pummelling the door, I’ve tried it. Most of the time I end up in tears, whimpering my loss. I miss Mum and Dad, I miss Alicia. Damn, I even miss Carrie! I’d do anything to be in Mum’s arms, right now. I’m deluding myself, though. It just hurts even more when I think about them.

So I sit in pain. I can’t even wait for it to end. I’m still scrambling on the floor for something. Anything. I feel the floor, the walls...

As if by magic, I feel that a bottom brick is out of place. I pull the loose brick, and rummage inside. A knife. I feel a knife in my hand. I pull it out, and stroke it. So precious... I prick my finger on the tip of the knife, and I watch the blood flow out. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

I stand up and face the door. Thoughtlessly, I caress the knife over my wrist. I then cut deeper. Delicately, of course. I watch the blood ooze out of the cut. I never imagined that I could do that. I start to caress my chest with the flat side of the knife. It’s so cool and... calm. I never knew something so calm, so innocent could do so much destruction.

I close my eyes, and begin to lose myself in stroking myself with the knife. Just the flat side. I just need to...

There’s a screech. The door opens. A massacre of light. His silhouette swamps my vision.

He sees me.

I could hear Carrie’s snoring. She sounds like a chainsaw when she sleeps. The time was 8:56. A whole new day of sun, sun, sun!

I got out of bed and walked onto the balcony. I admit, the swimming pool looked a bit dodgy and the all inclusive was crap. But hey! It was booze and ice cream. How could I complain? The sunlight, the spanish air embraced me after a rough night out. And then I remembered...

Mr. Nolan bought me a drink. Not astonishing, no, but Carrie would have been very jealous. She fancied him like crazy; there were no two ways about it. I’d always thought it was funny.

Even in the dark, I had to admit, he looked enticing. He was tall, with broad shoulders and his shirt had clung effortlessly to him. You get the idea. But his eyes...

They were the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. Even in the dark, the shape and the way he looked at me stood out. If I wasn’t so nervous, so Tamsin-like, I would have danced with him no problem. I’d never found him desirable before, though. The idea of teacher crushes disgusted me.

I didn’t want to wake Carrie, so I quietly got dressed and packed for a day on the beach. I slivered out, without even stirring her. Result!

I decided to divert to a cafe in town. I needed to sit down and drink some tea. I liked to watch life go by as I sat down and relaxed. It was soothing. The cafe was your typical “English” themed place with football, burger and beer adverts. I sat outside, where a light breeze was cooling me. It was only 9:30. I closed my eyes, and let my thoughts drift into random directions. Not the future though. I came here to avoid thinking of the future, if nothing else.

I heard a seat shift opposite me. I assumed it was Carrie. I smiled and said Hi. I opened my eyes.

It was him.

“Hi.” He flashed his beautiful smile. I immediately frowned. I thought I’d never see him again. The twat chuckled.

“What is it with that face? Every time I see you...”

“You’ve met me, what, once?”

You considered. “True.” You shifted your head to the side and looked at me. Intensely. “On your own?”

I really didn’t want to answer that. I sipped my tea and thought about excuses I could use to get away. I still couldn’t believe I was speaking to a teacher like this.

“Nope. Carrie’s in the toilet.” You frowned. “It appears that you’re on your own, though.” You smirked.

“My friend is currently hungover, sleeping in the shower. It’s an attractive sight.”

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose.” Reluctantly, you got up, and went inside. Quickly, I swooped up my bag, tucked in my chair, and left as fast as I could without running. I thought about hiding, but I just wanted to relax with Carrie. At least Mr. Nolan got the idea. I thought he had.

I heard someone running behind me. He caught up with me very quickly.

“Aren’t you going to stay and chat?”

“Can’t. I said I’d meet Carrie.”

Your eyebrow shot up again. “I thought you said she was in the toilet.” Shit... I improvised.

“Yes. In the beach toilets...” I could see that he was trying to hold back a laugh. Well what did I have to prove to him? Fuck all. I shuffled away, but he just caught up again.

“C’mon! Talk to me. About here, about school. You’ve always fascinated me.” I stopped there. How dare he. I turned to face him.

“Right. First off, let’s get one thing straight, you never taught me for a lesson. Therefore how could you judge me?-” He interrupted me.

“I supplied a spanish lesson you were in, thank you very much. That’s not what I was saying. I’ve seen you with your friends. You’re so different. There’s so much more vibrancy in you. So much more originality.” He seemed to remember stuff about me. I wasn’t comfortable at all.

“Well, that’s, uhhh, lovely. Sorry, but I must dash. Have a lovely holiday!”I surged forward, yet again, hoping that he’d leave me alone.

He had no choice but to leave me. We both knew that he’d given too much away.



Chapter 2:

He looks at me for a second. I struggle to see him as the light from the outside is too bright for my eyes. I see his expression though: Shock, disgust and worry flood his face. He’s just as scared as I am.

Before I can act, he pounces on me, knocking me to the floor. He rips the knife out of my unresisting arms and I wheeze, too weak to scream. He holds me down on the floor, until I’m completely still. He rolls off me and in one swift movement, he stands up. He’s probably done this time and time again.

Without turning back, he closes the door and bolts it. Out of all the times he could have came in, why did he have to choose then? I start to shudder and I begin to whimper. Then it’s full blown tears.

In that one second, I could have stabbed myself. I could have killed myself. Too slow, Tamsin! Every hope of ending everything: gone. Why do I have to fuck everything up? I can’t stop crying. I just lay on the floor, hoping for something. This darkness, this soundlessness: It’s hell.

The door screeches open. My head is in my hands, so I can only hear his footsteps. I tense up as he gets closer. I’m just praying that he won’t hurt me. Please God....

He kneels down next to me, and places his hand on my right arm. Before I know it, I feel something pierce through my skin. He’s drugged me. Great...

I feel woozy. Dizzy. I begin to see stars when I close my eyes. I can’t process my thoughts properly. I try to move something, but my brain doesn’t work. I feel him scooping me up, so my head is on his chest. He puts his arms around me and picks me up. I am helpless. Weak.

It reminds of me of that night. Déjà vu...

I was dazed by the flashing lights, loud music and the dancing. I felt safe surrounded by loads of maniac dancers. I had been cautious for the last few days, but this was my last night. I was pumped.

I had danced with a few boys, but I wouldn’t let anyone act provocatively around me. I wasn’t that sort of girl. I left as soon as they tried to touch me. I wasn’t drunk either, I rarely ever drank alcohol. I ignored the twats and let my hair down.

I danced my way to the bar. I felt a hand on a shoulder, and I turned around. It was him. How did he find me? Why was he always there?

“Let me buy you this one,” he shouted. “Just as an apology?” I figured that I could see whether he’d put anything into my drink. I nodded and smiled. He paid for my coke and handed it to me. He flashed his smile.

“Let’s dance.” Before I knew it, he took my hand and pulled me in the centre of the club where all the mania lied. The coke slipped out my hand and fell onto the floor. He ignored this. I tried to pull away, but his hold was too tight. All of a sudden, the club didn’t seem so attractive. Carrie was nowhere to be seen.

No one noticed us. No one could see us. Anyone would have thought we were just a normal couple. I wasn’t pumped, I was scared. He put his hand in his pocket. He leaned in closer to me.

I felt his lips on mine. They were warm. I tried so hard to pull away, but before I could, I felt something sharp pierce through my skin. Oh no. Oh no, please no...

All of a sudden, the music was too loud. There were too many people. I was alone. I was scared.

He whisked me in and dragged me out of the club. He just looked like a gentleman taking a pissed girl home. No one looked at us suspiciously at all. He opened a car door and shoved me in the back. From there? Darkness...

Chapter 3:

I still feel hazy.

I can the sound of a train. I’m in a bed (which is very comfortable). I can’t hear anyone else. I keep my eyes closed to protect what secrecy I have.

Actually, I can hear the drumming of fingers. A cough! He’s in here. I know it. Just wait until he goes, even it takes hours. Stay still. There might be a chance of escape. God help me, I’ll die without hope.

I wonder what’s happening at home. Am I on the news? Am I just another pissed teenager to them? Do they think I’m dead? I don’t even know how long it’s been since I was... taken.

I can feel fresh clothes. My other ones absolutely stank. I hold back a shudder when I think of him changing me.

I hear a sigh. He’s getting up! I hear footsteps and I hear a door opening. I wait for 5 seconds. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. Eyes open.

The light is too bright for me, so it takes a while for everything to focus. I turn and look outside a window (one which only opens at the top), to my left, to see greenery and trees. We weren’t in Spain. I shake myself to see whether my body works. It does. Slowly, I clamber out of bed. I lurch forward: the train is moving more quickly than I thought. Luckily, I don’t fall over.

The carriage has red curtains, a red carpet, a door to my left and a chair facing me. T It’s unlike any train I’ve been on. I never knew some trains had actual rooms in. Weird. I gaze over the fire procedure sheet. It’s in French. Shit. I’m in France!

Oh my! I’m being really slow! I need to get out of here! I can’t go through the door he left through: what if he sees me? Oh my, my, my...

I see on the bedside table that there’s a bible and a glass. A big one. I look from the bible to the window and back again. I put two and two together. I swoop up the bible and pray to God the window would break. I stand back, take a deep breath and gather all my strength. I throw the thing like there’s no tomorrow. But it just bounces off the window and it lands on the bed. No... NO!

I run to the bed, grab the bible and I hit the window. This can’t be it. I can’t live like this. I’m sobbing, I can’t help it. I chuck the bible behind me, and out of desperation, I grab the glass on the bedside table and I pelt it at the window. I dive down on the bed. I hear a symphony of shattering.

Instantly, I hear a door opening. He slams it shut and jumps on the bed. He grabs me before I can move.

“For fuck sake, Tamsin,” he growls. With all my strength, I elbow him. His grip loosens! I run like the wind to the door, but before I even touch the handle, he pulls me back. I try to scream, but he’s second guessed me. Again. Hand over my mouth; he sits me on his lap.

“Tamsin, stop trying to hurt me. And yourself.” I just collapse and sob. He rocks me like I’m a baby. Animal, perhaps. Slowly, he removes his hand from my mouth. I’m bent double, crying. Please stop...

“P-p-p-please don’t drug me” I whimper. “I’m not a”-sniff-“fucking animal.”

“I won’t,” he says calmly, still rocking me. “I had to.”

“W-why? Where are we g-g-going?” I start blubbing again. I really can’t stop myself. I could have escaped. I could have escaped...

“I suppose they’ll tell you.”

I’m instantly tense.

It clicks.

There is a destination for me. He’s leaving me with someone. I can’t handle that. No more pain. No more thieves. The crying subsides. It stops.

“I need the toilet,” I mutter. Escape seems impossible. But I need time on my own, despite having been locked up for so long. Plus, I’m bursting for the loo.

I get up and approach the door. He gets up too.

“Let me come,” he mumbles.

“No.” I open the door and slam it behind me. I’m angry, to say the least. How dare he: Am I not human to him? Does he think the world is his to control? I stagger down the corridor, not knowing if I’m going the right way. The carpet here is red, too.

“Wait for me,” he growls. I keep walking. I can’t bear to be around him. There’s nowhere I can run off to. On each side of me, there are closed wooden doors which must consist of other rooms, probably containing more captives. I start to rush, entering the next compartment. God, I must look a right state.

He’s getting closer. I break into a run. Compartments go by. God, how long is this train? Why hasn’t anyone noticed me yet? Why can’t I escape?

“Tamsin!”I can’t stop. I’ve come so far. But I’m so tired; I have no energy. I. Can’t. Slow. Down.

I’m running for my life. Even that’s not good enough.

I don’t have memories, as such, of the kidnapping. Just flashes. Weird, inconsistent flashes.

Flash one: Bumping along in a car that stank of cigarettes. The window was open.

Flash two: Being shoved in a toilet cubicle. I had something on my head.

Flash three: A boot shutting. Complete darkness.

Flash four: A door closing. Complete darkness again.

Everything else, when I was conscious, was very hazy. My first definite memory was waking up hearing nothing. Complete and utter silence. It scared the living daylights out of me. I opened my eyes and saw blackness. Then I remembered everything... How my own teacher kidnapped me.

I remember feeling a new change of clothes, smelling a new smell, which consisted of cigarettes and drains. I felt very cold. Lonely. I was scared, too. I was lying sprawled across the hard, concrete floor. I sat up, and hugged myself. I felt sick, just knowing that he touched me, that he drugged me. What else could he have done? Could I have been...? Oh God.

Slowly, my hand crept underneath my knickers. They were the same ones as before. I didn’t feel hurt or anything. I don’t think I was. Was I like one of those girls on the news with their school photo? I never thought I’d ever be in that position. Who would?

I had trouble finding my voice. I wavered as I tried to stand up. I felt dizzy and I really needed the toilet. I couldn’t see anything. I took a deep breath and tried to stand up again. I clung to the wall and tip toed around the room. I couldn’t see or feel anything but wall. My shoeless feet felt a step. I found the door.

I couldn’t stop myself.

I howled. It was piercing to my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. I screamed, oh how I screamed. I was confined. Trapped. I couldn’t breathe in this hellhole. I kicked the door, I shouldered it, I even head butted it. Hour after hour, I yelled, I screamed, I cried. Nothing.

Feebly, I thought that would make everything better. Some hope of attention was all I had. But I just collapsed onto floor and endured all the pain. I was so scared. Was he going to leave me there to die? Was he going to hurt me? Was he going to kill me?

I wept. If only...