Monday, 23 January 2012


Oh God, oh God! I’m going to die, I know it. He’s going to kill me. What did I ever do to deserve this? Why God, why? I just want to go home. I want my mum. Oh, mum! I’ll never see her again. And she’ll never know where I went. Mum, mum, I’m so sorry. If you ever read this I’m sorry and I love you…

Day 1
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. I passed out after I wrote that last passage and I’m not sure how much time has gone by since. So, I guess this will be day 1 then.
I’ve realised that I need to calm down, there is no point in crying to myself, it will only give him satisfaction. I suppose that’s the only good thing – he hasn’t killed me yet. In fact, I haven’t seen him at all. I don’t even know if he is a he! I don’t remember anything about him. I don’t really remember much from that night at all. I know I was on the train, back from university. It was pretty late; I’d had to stay behind to some research at the library. I was tired. I had my headphones in. I didn’t really notice anyone else on the train. I was thinking about my coursework. My stop was next. I was getting ready to leave and then it all went black. I really don’t remember anyone else on the train. Why? Why can’t I remember anything? Why is he doing this to me?

Day 3
I still haven’t seen him but sometimes I can hear him walking around outside the door. Food is just pushed through a flap at the bottom of the door randomly. Yesterday I didn’t get any. Today it was cat food. I ate it.
I want to know why I’m here, what he’s waiting for. Is he holding me for ransom? Does he want to kill me, or worse? Oh God, I can’t bear to think about it. He’s probably getting some sick pleasure out of this. He might be watching me right now. Or maybe he waits till I’m asleep and then reads this book; I did wonder why it was in here. Well, if that’s his plan then I just won’t write in it anymore.

Day 6
I can’t help it, there’s nothing else to do here. I don’t want to write in this at all but I can’t stand another day of lying on that disgusting mattress staring at the ceiling. I must have counted all the stains a million times by now. I’ve searched the room, too. I thought maybe there would be a way out – a loose brick, a crack, just something. But apart from the door, which is metal, the room is perfectly sealed. The only things in the room are my dirty mattress and a bucket. Though, now I wish there was a window as my bucket is starting to smell pretty bad.

Day 7
It’s been over a week now, at least the bucket was emptied sometime when I was sleeping, so he does come in here at night – how do I not hear him?
I can’t help but wonder if my parents are worried. Have they got people out looking for me? Do they have any idea where I am? I don’t even know where I am. For all I know I have been taken hundreds of miles away. I wonder if my parents know I miss them. Do they still think I’m alive?

Day 9
I’m so hungry. There’s been no food for two days now and I haven’t left the mattress in three. I can barely move. I’m so hungry. So hungr…

Day 10
Food came today. A ham sandwich.  I could barely make it to the door and I only had two mouthfuls before I was sick. But it was food and I saved the rest for later, just in case.

Day 12
It was a good thing I saved the sandwich, even if it was mouldy, as no food came yesterday. I doubt any will come today, either. I don’t know what kind of pervert this guy is. I can’t help but think that’s the worst thing about all of this: the unknown. What is he going to do to me? What is he planning? Will I make it out alive?

Day 14
That bastard. That sick, twisted fuck!  Instead of food today I got a radio. It was a news programme and my parents were on it. They’re still looking for me, they still love me. If anyone knows any information about my whereabouts could they get in touch, please? What does that fucking bastard want? Does he want me to cry again? Well, I’ll give him something he won’t expect.
I smashed his stupid radio, with my bucket.

Day 16
As expected I haven’t got any good food for a couple of days now, just cat food again, but I find that I’m not very hungry anyway. I haven’t heard anything from behind the door in a while either. I’m worried that my bucket stunt cost me a little more than I had planned it to.

Day 17
I’m really worried now. I think he’s left me. Left me here to rot. Obviously I wasn’t worth the time. Why couldn’t he just let me go instead of leaving me here? I don’t want to die.

Day 19
I’m sorry for what I did. Please don’t leave me here. Please come back. I need food, I need water, please. Please…

Day 22
He’s back! I can hear him. He came back for me. I knew he couldn’t leave me here forever.

Day 23
He let me out today, can you believe it? After he left me for so long he came back to treat me. Today with my sandwich came a blindfold and a note made out of cut up newspapers saying I should put on the blindfold and wait by the door. If I did I would be rewarded.  I wasn’t sure what he would do, but anything would be better than sitting here. He came for me a while later, he helped me around the house and he was surprisingly gentle. He didn’t speak though, and he didn’t let me see his face, either. But I got to have a shower and use a proper toilet for once! The door was locked from the outside but I was allowed to take off the blindfold. The bathroom didn’t have any windows or clues to who he was, it was completely bare. But it feels so nice to clean again.

Day 27
I got chocolate today, a whole bar. I only had two squares before wrapping up the rest and saving it under my pillow. I’ll have some this evening, too.

Day 28
The blindfold came back again today. I instantly put it on and sat by the door. He came for me a while later and guided me around the house again. I know he’s a man now; his hands are large and manly and yet so soft. He sat me at the table and boy it smelt so good. He let me take my blindfold off, but I had to look forward at all times. The table was laden with delicious food; there was a huge roast dinner with extra stuffing and a giant slice of hot chocolate fudge cake with a scoop of ice cream. I was so hungry and yet so sick at the same time. He stood with his hands on my shoulders as I ate; they gently massaged me throughout the meal. I hadn’t felt this pampered in such a long time.  I was sad to go back to my room.

Day 33
Food has been coming regularly for the last few days; I’ve had chocolate, crisps, and biscuits - anything I could have wanted!  I can’t eat most of it so I’ve been saving it, though I no longer fear going hungry. He’s so lovely. He’s been letting me out for showers again, and one time I even got to have a bath. As soon as the blindfold comes through the door my heart jumps. I know he doesn’t speak to me but it’s nice to be in his company. I hope I can have another shower again soon.

Day 37
The food has stopped coming. I didn’t get any yesterday and none has come today either. Thinking about it I haven’t heard from him in a while either. No blindfolds, no notes, not even footsteps from behind the door.  He hasn’t left me again, has he? I hope he comes back soon. I miss him.

Day 39
I’m glad that I saved all that food; he hasn’t given any to me for days. I think he’s gone for good this time. It must have been something I did. I’m sorry if it was. Please come back to me. I need you.

Day 40
He finally came back. But he came back with her. That’s right, he brought back another girl. He was gone so long just to find a new girl. A blond one. She’s with me now. All she does is cry. She’s sat on my mattress crying her eyes out. Her makeup has smudged down her face and her hair’s a mess.
It’s been hours and she’s still crying. She hasn’t stopped since she arrived. I tried to talk to her but all she’s does is cry. In fact, she seemed to cry harder when I told her everything’s okay and it’s actually all right here after a while.

Day 41
She cried all night as well and she didn’t even offer to let me sleep on the mattress. Then when the food came today she ate the whole thing and didn’t even think of me; and I can’t get to what’s left of my store of food because she’s in the way. She’s only spoken to me once, it was to ask where we go to the toilet. When I told her it was the bucket she just wailed some more. I think her crying is putting him off; I haven’t heard him by the door at all today.

Day 43
Two blindfolds came today. But the note asked for her not me. I just had to put mine on so I couldn’t see anything. I can’t believe that she got to go outside after only being here for 3 days, I had to wait 23 days. And guess what? She cried the whole time she was putting on the blindfold. I told her this was a good thing; she could wash off all the tacky makeup and do something about her hair. She doesn’t seem to listen to me at all though.

She came back a lot later. I had eaten the food I had saved and rested on the mattress. She wasn’t crying anymore and she looked a lot cleaner. She even had a new outfit on, bit trampy for my tastes though. My clothes are the same ones I was wearing on the first day. They’re quite dirty and smelly now. Actually, I look pretty rough. I haven’t been offered a shower in nearly 10 days. I tried to talk to her again but she just sat in silence. But at least she wasn’t crying for once.

Day 46
We have a sort of routine, this girl and me. One night I have the mattress and the next night she has it. We now share the food that comes through the door, too, not that any of us eat that much. She hasn’t cried at all lately but she hasn’t spoken at all, either, despite the fact that he comes for her each day. I wish you’d come for me.
I don’t know her name still. I told her mine, and how long I’ve been here, and what’s happened to me since being here, everything! Yet, she still sits in silence. She is so rude.

Day 49
Every day you come for her. And every time she comes back silent. All she does is huddle in the corner of the room. I used to think it would be nice if she wasn’t crying but her silence is more annoying. I don’t understand it. Doesn’t she like having showers? I would go instead of her if she wanted. I said this to her but she just stared at me blankly. She doesn’t deserve her showers. She doesn’t deserve the new clothes. She doesn’t deserve your attention. I deserve it.

Day 51
You still haven’t come for me. Have you forgotten about me? Every day you come for her. And every day that blindfold comes through the door she flinches. I would do it. I would go with you gladly. I’m the one you should want.

Day 52
Today she came back and just lay on the mattress. I saw that she had bruises on her wrists. Surprisingly, this time when I asked her what happened she burst into tears. She hasn’t cried in so long that I was shocked. She cried for ages. I gave up asking.

Day 54
You took her this morning shortly after we woke up and she still isn’t back. I don’t understand why you haven’t come for me again. I thought you liked me. What has she got that I haven’t? It was all good until she came here.

Day 55
She came back this morning; she had been gone for a whole day and night! Did she get to sleep in your room? Has she heard your voice? Seen your face?

Day 56
She finally spoke to me today. She said that she doesn’t have nice meals and showers when the blindfolds come. She says that you take her to your room. She says that you undress her. She says that you make her do horrible things. She says you’re rough and mean. She asks how I can like it. She asks how I am still sane. She asks how have I not gone mad yet? The more she talks the more I want her to shut up. How could you do that with her? Why do you not want to do that with me? Why is she so much better than me? Why is she so special? Is it because she’s blond?
She’s crying again. Crying and crying. She should just shut up, the stupid slut. Slag. Whore.
She just wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t help it. She kept crying. She kept telling me horrible things about you. She doesn’t appreciate your love like I do. She didn’t deserve you. She doesn’t love you. I love you!
I couldn’t help it.
I just wanted her to shut up. I grabbed her by her stupid blond hair. I smashed her sluttish face into the wall.
I couldn’t help it.
Blood ran down my arms. I did it again and again.
I really couldn’t help it.
And again.


Now that you have read this I'm sorry to say that you shall never fall in love with your kidnapper, as once you know about Stockholm Syndrome you cannot suffer from it! 

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