“Hope?”
My name seemed like a distant memory.
“HOPE?”
My friend Anastasia was calling my name, still questioning me if I was going to accompany her to the “Party of the Year.” I finally spoke.
“What do you want me to say ,Ana.”
Ana Ramirez was the best friend I have ever had, my only one really. She was about 5’ and had dark brown wavy hair that reached her butt. Her mexican heritage shown through her features and even without her classic winged eyeliner she was very naturally beautiful.
“I have... never been to something like this before and I am not sure if I want to come!” 
She rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed that I haven’t made a decision. I sighed before I gave in and said I would. It was like I told her I was going to meet Johnny Depp, her excitement was contagious.

But, the party would be the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I would be stolen, attacked, and left where no one would ever find me, with a fresh wound from earlier that night. I had to find my way home. I searched my pockets for anything that could be useful. What I found would have to suffice. I found several things; A lighter, tissues, a pocket knife, and my keys. I fumbled for my keys and because I remembered I had put a tiny flashlight on my keychain!

I started to limp as I began to make my way towards safety. The smell of a bonfire and billowing smoke in the sky was my best bet.  I made my way into the night; I will make it home. Making it to the cabin was probably the hardest part of this entire endeavor. My breath was short and the lack of oxygen was giving me a headache that was becoming unbearable. Finally just a couple of miles left and I could see the light fixtures flickering in the distance. I was sweating profusely, it was almost daylight now and the humidity in the air has starting to make breathing harder and harder. I could feel the heat rising as the July sun birthed itself onto the earth. Before I could stop myself I fainted. I fell yet again, but this time I was sent back one more time into the past.

“ANA help me, help….”

Mid yell my mouth had been covered with a very tough, wet cloth and the next thing I knew I was in the back of his truck. I kicked and pounded at the trunk yanking the cord that should have made the inside of the trunk glow. But my attacker cut it. The string only fell to my side as helpless as I was starting to feel.

I stopped struggling. I didn’t know what else I could do. I was bounded and gagged. But just as I started to completely give in to the dark side of  my thoughts I remembered something helpful from an old crime TV show. I moved my arms down to my hips and managed to scoot my butt behind my hands. The last little bit was the hardest thing to maneuver in this small space. From this position I pushed my legs through the hole my arms created underneath me. Now I was in a somewhat sitting position with my hands in front. I took the cloth from my mouth taking a deep breath, filling my lungs with the air I was being deprived of. I examined what my hands were bound in; small black zip ties that were intertwined and bound to each other to keep my hands secured.
It had to be around noon now. I had my boots on so I searched for the back taillights. I found the little divot and summoned all my strength and disparity. I mule kicked the light. Responding almost instantaneously it fell out of the socket. I felt air whoosh in. My hope for surviving was restored. The wind felt like coming out of room after hours of being indoors; it was hitting the car in a way that meant we must be moving fast and against the wind. I stuck my hand out as far as I could and waved back and forth, side to side. I kept at it until my arm became too tired to continue.

As I watched the sun go down I wondered if anyone saw my attempts to escape. The scenery had changed from the perspective of my hole in the trunk. It altered from a highway to a dirt road and to what looked like 60 feet tall trees surrounding the truck. My eyes were starting to get heavy and as much as I tried to fight it, I fell asleep.

.     .     .
I woke, dehydrated and starving. I had lost consciousness close to a river, so I army-crawled over to the rushing water.  I cupped a little of it, then splashed it on my face and around my neck. Shuddering with joy as the fresh water trickled down my back. I moved to get my legs into the current. I ripped my jeans so I could get better access to my wound, then kneeled into the frigid water. The pain at that moment was the worst sensation I ever felt. I had to persevere and get through this hell. I cleaned most of the dirt off of me and ripped a sleeve from my t-shirt and tied it tightly to secure my deep cut from getting infected or dirty.

The water seemed near crystal clear so I drank and drank until my thirst was quenched. I needed to find something to eat; Something that would hold me over until I made it to a populated area. I decided to make camp. I found a broke down tree with a deep hole next to it, the mahogany tree had coincidentally fell and been shaped to look like an arch. I searched for a tree branch with plenty of leaves to cover the back to resemble a tent. The sun had dried the leaves under and near the tree so it would make a okay bed. I limped over to an almost perfect tree branch with plenty of green leaves; One that most likely had just shook off the nearest tree a couple of days ago. I threw it over the tree making the back of the temporary home for me. I found a small squirrel that was eating his acorns. Slowly, I took out my knife and claimed my dinner.

I found some bone-dry leaves and sticks which are perfect for a fire. I filled the dirt pit with the items and put rocks around so it wouldn’t burn my entire camp down. I grabbed a smaller stick with a dry leaf on it and set it aflame with my lighter. I impaled the squirrel and rotated the body over the fire. The sun was just about set as I finished the meal. I climbed into my makeshift camp and gathered leaves around my head, and drifted to sleep with a full stomach and rehydrated body.

I was flung forward and hit the back of the trunk. On the other side I could faintly hear a man talking; no, cursing to himself.  He had to brake suddenly, but what for? Almost as suddenly had the man braked he accelerated thrusting me to the opening of the trunk. I smacked my head against the roof  feeling a trickle of blood falling. I dabbed it with my shirt and looked out of the tail light hole to try and understand what was taking place. I couldn’t see a single thing. My hole was covered! Some kind of cloth was secured over the opening. It was tightly stretched so trying to cut through it should be easy. I pulled out the pocket knife I had brought with me to the party and poked through the fabric.

Sunlight beamed through the pea-sized hole. I then took the knife and dragged the sharp part of the blade across the black fabric., finally I could see outside again. We had returned to the highway and I noticed something repetitive on the car’s license plates.  Something that meant they were all natives of the state. All had mountains and the words Nevada written above the numbers. We were no longer in California. We were on the outskirts of Nevada about 4 hours from my home.

I stuck my hand out of the car and waved vigorously once more. But this time in response a black sedan sped up and beeped at the truck. It was attempting to slow it down. I could see a woman in the passenger seat of the sedan examine the license plate number. What happened next was the first real chance I received to escape my attacker. The woman brought her phone to her ear and recited the number. I had became very good at reading lips and moving my hand out of the hole I stuck my face as far as I could go. In response the woman and her husband's eyes’ widened.

I could see her speaking faster and more with a sense of urgency. My blond hair was being sucked from the car and the woman continued to take in every detail she noticed. But before she could finish giving a meticulous description of me, the car swerved and turned into an off ramp. The sedan tried to speed up but the truck was taking quick and decisive turns. They were losing us and we were moving into unknown territory. All I could see was sand. We were in a desert now. It looked uninhabited and bare. I could not look out anymore because sand particles were landing in my eye, blinding me momentarily.

After what seemed like hours we were still in the desert . The sun was setting, and my prison was becoming colder and colder by the minute. There was no area to curl up and the trunk was getting so constricting. I had to find a way to distract him, make him let me out for as long as I could. I stretched my body as far as it could go in this cramped space, and screamed. I made the biggest fuss I could have. I rapped my knuckles on the upper part of the trunk., kicked around, and screamed till my throat felt raw.

Finally the truck came to a stop. I heard the door slam and heavy footsteps; the man was muttering curse words under his breath as if I was some child continually knocking on his door to sell cookies for the nearby girl scout group. He threw open the lid of the trunk and slapped me several times. Then said,

“Would you just shut up! You’re mine now!”

His voice sounded like he gargled nails and screws every morning and on top of that smoked 10 packs of cigarettes every day. His scent invaded my nostrils and I almost gagged. He smelled of sewage and severe body odor; His face was unshaven and his hair a shaggy, greasy mess. He was dressed in a white beer stained t-shirt, ripped jeans, and an old orange vest that had stuffing protruding from the worn out holes.

He looked like he had crawled out of a trailer park. A stereotypical criminal looking man. He pulled me by my shirt out of the truck in one swift movement. All that would come out of my trembling mouth was,
“Please, I’ll do anything, please leave me alone.”
I repeated the words until he struck me once more. This time with a closed fist, and my unconscious body became limp.

I woke up with a start. My body soaked with sweat and my wound pulsating. It was mid morning, and the desert was growing hotter by the minute. I had to get up, collect water, and start moving. I struggled to come to the stream I had discovered yesterday. I plunged my bottom half into the water. The process of taking off the cloth covering my cut was excruciating; However, I succeeded and used my bare hands to clean the deep laceration.

I winced and ground my teeth until I deemed it clean. I was starting to become dizzy from lack of food or water in high temperatures. I tore a fresh piece of cloth off of my pants and wrapped it tightly around the wound. I slowly stood and took water from further down the stream. I must find another source of food. Looking around I only see the heat radiating off of the sand.

The strange thing about this terrain is, half of it is desert and the other thick forest. As if the earth could not make up it’s mind. I ventured to the edge of the forest about 5 miles from my camp. I trudged through the forest searching for my lunch. What I found held me over for two days. Scurrying around the forest floor was a badger. It was now lounging around searching for it’s afternoon meal as well. I crept quietly, moving unnoticed, and getting closer to the animal. I pulled out my pocket knife and caught it off guard. My luck has been unwavering; I took the life of the badger and limped towards my camp

Even though it was a blistering heat I made a fire, skinned the animal, and then after it was cooked to perfection I ate my prize. Finally when I was filled. I packed up what I could call mine and left my small piece of home. Walking was becoming a grueling task, my leg burned and I could feel the wound starting to fester. I had made it to the outskirts of the desert closing in on a road. After a while the pain was crawling up my leg; It felt as if flames were licking at my legs leading up to the wound.

I had to sit down, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t get back up. So I bit my tongue and kept moving. My eyes would not focus on one place. I was seeing three. Nevertheless, I kept moving. The pain was nothing to the way I would feel if I could never see my family again. There was no way in hell I was giving up. With all my muscles seizing with pain I didn’t falter. I stopped and cut off the sleeves on my shirt, then the legs on my jeans. I put the extra material in my backpack for make-do dressings for my laceration.
.    .    .

I hazily looked around and found myself in a house. Well, to be more specific I was in a concrete basement. Instead of being bound by zip ties I was now attached to a pole with handcuffs. The cuffs had been digging into my skin while I was knocked out; They were rubbed raw, and the skin around them I imagined was starting to peel off. I looked around more positioning my body to be able to look around the pole. What I found was absolutely nothing, vacant, never used. The room smelled dank and like mold was growing in the corners.

There was a lot of graffiti as if this basement was a meeting spot for people affiliated with gangs. The walls around me gave an aura of hatred and neglect. It was then that I knew, I wasn’t the only victim and I wouldn’t be the last. However I will be the first, to get out alive. For a 2 days no one came by, I heard no cars, no tires on gravel, I was isolated. I yanked at my pocket which held my pocket knife. With these and cuffs I should be able to weaken the chains and eventually break it off. I sawed relentlessly at the chain seeing no difference. Angry and frustrated I stood up and shook the pole trying to free myself.
The pole had stood firmly but I had noticed something that had fallen out of my hair on the floor next to my foot. A bobby pin. Squealing with joy, I quickly sat down and broke the two parts of the pin to become a picklock. Thankfully it was a single lock pair of cuffs. I bent the long part and moved the last part of the pin into a right angle.. I inserted the bobby pin into the keyhole. Then moved to the very edge, took the bobby pin and bent it down. Like a cry of angels the latches released and I was free.
As soon as I had made it up a stairwell a man was ready for me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I screamed and tried to get past him but this guy was too strong. I threw a punch to his face right along a scar that stretched from his eyes to his jaw. He barely reacted and pushed me into the next room. The space was carpeted but again, empty.
“You can’t keep me here!”
I refocused. I got up and kicked as hard as I could in the only place it would really hurt, he dropped to his knees and pulled out a knife. I grabbed the back of his hair and thrust his skull against my knee., then kicked him in the face. He was knocked out. I grabbed everything I could need, and I almost made it out of the door.
When that door clicked allowing me to exit the man with the scar barrelled at me. He raised his knife and stabbed me in the leg. I let out a pained scream. He took the blade and dug it in deeper and making it longer. I smacked him and he was dazed just long enough for me to grab the knife and stab him through the heart. The laceration will leave a scar, but atleast I can make it out alive. I bolted through what looked like woods. The trees were odd though, extremely skinny and tall. But easy to avoid. I made it as far as I could before I finally passed out by that river.

.     .      .
I’ve almost made it! I can see a city in the distance! My hell was coming to an end and it’s all because I fought. At sundown I had reached a bus station. I had absolutely no money, however I told the bus driver what happened. Her eyes went wide, they looked as if they were literally about to pop out of her head. That woman graciously granted me a free trip home, on her. She told me that I looked starving and I told her I haven’t eaten for two days. I examined her, she had a very plump face and kind eyes, blazing red hair and icey blue eyes.
My cut started to pulsate worse causing me to wince. I positioned myself in the bus seat to get my leg to my body. I removed my “make do” bandage and what I saw made me woozy. The laceration was pus filled and infected. Loretta noticed it and rushed me to the closest ER. It was just about midnight but the doctors were there in an instant.
Loretta walked straight up to the front desk flashed her ID and explained what was wrong with me. The receptionist paled but called in the emergency doctors. They sat me down on a gurney and moved me into a hospital room. Loretta and the doctors talked in hushed tones but I caught bits of it. I was going into surgery and I needed to be treated now if I wanted to live. I was missing a lot of blood, the doctors asked me why I didn’t come in sooner but when they touched that numbing needle I passed out.

I awoke hearing voices on the overhead system summoning doctors and nurses to different rooms and sections. I looked up and saw that my leg was stitched up and in thick bandages. Loretta was sleeping in the chair beside my bed with a magazine lying open on her lap. She most likely fell asleep that way after my surgery. Around two in the afternoon I was fed and released.
My blond hair was no longer matted to my face, I had new clothes on from the hospital. I fell asleep on the bus, but just as soon as my eyes fluttered open I felt my stomach rumble and growl as if I had a bear inside me. Loretta giggled, dropped off the other riders and graciously treated me to a delicious supper.  I had tried to be polite, believe you me, but I scarfed down that burger and fries like they were nothing. The milkshake she had gotten me was gone within 20 minutes.
“So, you said Hope is your name, right my dear?” I nodded wiping my face clean.
“Hope, I want you to know that I am here for you. My daughter was taken when she was just 12. It took years for me to find her.”
Her eyes started to fill up with tears and her lips wavered. I tried to comfort her. I put my hand on her shoulder and gave her a napkin.
“How is she”
I knew the answer but I did not want to assume.
“She’s…….She’s dead.”
My heart broke when she said those last two words.
“Loretta, I am so sorry for your loss, I’m sure she was an amazing young woman”
That seemed to cheer her up a little.
“Excuse me”
The little plump red headed woman walked towards the women’s room. After a few moments she came back to the booth. Her eyes bloodshot and puffy. I knew she attempted to come back looking as if she had never cried, but as a woman, you know. I ignored it and engaged in small talk with her.
“Hi ladies! Are you ready for your check?”
The waitress was peppy, on the verge of overdoing the whole “I am happy with my job I promise” sound. Loretta gave the woman her card. The strangest thing happened, the waitress looked at the name at the bottom of the card and her facial demeanor changed completely. From bored to star struck. As If Loretta had told her she was actually Selena Gomez. I couldn’t help it, I blurted out the words before I thought about it.
“Is there something wrong ma’am because if there is we will be going on our way.”
I was hot under the collar for some reason. Just moments before the waitress was rolling her eyes and acting as if we were the bane of her existence. Now she looked like she was going to drop to her knees and kiss her feet. It was odd, but I wasn’t in the spot to judge right now.

Loretta and I climbed onto the bus once more. We drove in silence for two hours. I looked out the window watching all the cars passing by wondering how my family was. If they thought I was alive, missing, or worse. Dead. I looked over to the kind bus driver and asked her why that waitress looked at her like that.
“I have no idea sweet pea, she sure was strange wasn’t she?”
She laughed and it sounded like a little bell chiming. It was charming. She genuinely cared about getting me home and making sure I was comfortable. Loretta and I climbed into the bus, she put my leg up and set a sweater under it. She caressed my face and tied my hair into an intricate braid. She told me we would be at my address very soon, and that I was lucky I didn’t die from that wound. I looked at her in the eyes.
“Will you be honest with me?”
The woman looked at me like I was crazy.
“Yes, of Course!”
Hope was cautious about the next words she was going to say.
“Who are you really” She looked away and was blushing.
She sighed and breathed in and out a couple of times.
“Hope, My name isn’t Loretta. I am just a owner of a prestigious private school. My name is Rachel Barnes. I own Phillips Exeter Academy it’s in New Hampshire. However my family came here to the border of California and Nevada. I never knew I would be helping a woman that had saved her own life.”

Loretta and I climbed onto the bus once more. We drove in silence for two hours. I looked out the window watching all the cars passing by wondering how my family was. If they thought I was alive, missing, or worse. Dead. I looked over to the kind bus driver and asked her why that waitress looked at her like that.
“I have no idea sweet pea, she sure was strange wasn’t she?”
She laughed and it sounded like a little bell chiming. It was charming. She genuinely cared about getting me home and making sure I was comfortable. Loretta and I climbed into the bus, she put my leg up and set a sweater under it. She caressed my face and tied my hair into an intricate braid. She told me we would be at my address very soon, and that I was lucky I didn’t die from that wound. I looked at her in the eyes.
“Will you be honest with me?”
The woman looked at me like I was crazy.
“Yes, of Course!”
Hope was cautious about the next words she was going to say.
“Who are you really” She looked away and was blushing.
She sighed and breathed in and out a couple of times.
“Hope, My name isn’t Loretta. I am just a owner of a prestigious private school. My name is Rachel Barnes. I own Phillips Exeter Academy it’s in New Hampshire. However my family came here to the border of California and Nevada. I never knew I would be helping a woman that had saved her own life.”
“I came to this state with my daughter and husband.” Then she begun to tell the story of how her family was now gone.
“It was supposed to be a vacation. A time away from home, we were so stressed in New Hampshire. We were all involved in the workings of the school. My daughter had just turned 12, my husband and I were going on our 30th anniversary. We lost Sarah, my daughter, when we visited the beach. I looked away for two seconds, I swear.”
She was sniffling, stifling back a sob. It didn’t help much, seconds later hot tears were making tread marks down her plump face. I felt anguish for her and her family, and that what I had been through didn’t even come close to the pain she felt or went through. Rachel/Loretta was wiping the tears trying to compose herself. She cleared her throat and continued.
“I turned from the ice box filled with snacks and my baby was gone. I had seen my husband running and that was the last time I have ever seen him alive.” she sighed once more.
“He chased after the kidnapper, all the way to the highway. He had made it to the truck that the man was driving. Only to be ran down by a unsuspecting citizen. It was an accident by some terms. 911 was dialed and paramedics declared him a DOA. I was called to speak with the police. Telling them the details of the kidnapping. My family had now suffered a murder and a kidnapping. I felt useless and broken.”
“Weeks later my baby was found, raped and killed.” She sobbed convulsively.

I was stunned. This woman had gone out of her way to save me out of the goodness of her heart. Loretta/Rachel had lost everything, yet still helped an innocent person. She had to lie, she was afraid I could be someone dangerous, that my wounds were not of self defence. She must have noticed my facial expression because she assured me that everything besides her name that she told me, was the truth.
The strong woman composed herself once more to tell me that what had happened to her family was horrible. But it was the past, and she had to live the rest of her life. After she was done speaking, I never stopped repeating this mantra:
“Thank you for your kindness, thank you for your unwavering hope. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I never stopped thanking that woman until I left her side. The next time she spoke it was just a whisper, only loud enough for me to hear.
“Your parents have been contacted, and you will be able to tell them personally what happened. You are a strong girl Hope, you beat the bad man and saved your own life. I admire you greatly.”
The sun was coming up and shining, as beautiful as it could be. I recognized the road we turned on. I was home! We parked on the side of the road and my front door flew open. My parents eyes were streaked with tears but happiness now emanated from them.
“HOPE, you’re home! Thank god” I threw myself into their arms never wanting to leave again. I made it against the odds and I was strong enough to survive. Behind them Ana was waiting patiently for her turn.
“I have missed you so much, I am so glad you’re safe!” She ran into me knocking me over. We laughed on the grass and I felt the sun’s warmth cover my body.

I was safe, and I was home. I thanked everyone for not forgetting about me and keeping hope. For loving me and fighting to know the truth. I loved my family and my friends. There was no way I would ever take my life for granted again. I will never believe anything could be worse than what I went through.
I thank whoever is watching me above for guiding me home to my loved ones. I may have saved my own life, but I only did so because I had something to live for. I thank my lucky stars and you should too. Whoever feels as if they cannot make it and that they are not worth it; know that your life is worth every breath you take, every sight you see, and every emotion you endure.
Life is a gift. Live your life with happiness, caution, love and unwavering hope for the good of yourself and your loved ones. This is the story of my kidnapping, assault, and escape. Take this story and keep it for the future. My story could become yours. Beware.