Fiend (1/3) By Jarrett

(1/3), (2/3), (3/3),

It happened when I was only seven. They let their eyes off of me for only a moment and he snatched me away. I never saw them again. They are the only ones I ever loved. In fact, it was so long ago I don't even remember how it feels, and to be honest I don't want to; I'm sure it will only bring pain. I don't know why he did it. I'll never fully understand why he did, but I've come close. I guess like me he yearned for that same feeling so many people take for granted, love. Unfortunately, like me he also had no idea of how to go about getting it. So he took me.

I remember that day like it was yesterday, and I'm sure I always will. My family and I spent a whole day at my favorite place in the world, Disney World. I went on a few rides, of course at my age the rides I was permitted to go on were limited. I was confined mostly to the 'baby rides', as I thought of them. We ended the day at the water park. It was there that I first noticed him; in the shadow like those demons from my nightmares. I didn't tell my parents, because even at that age I understood that they would just say I was being paranoid, or more likely another fru-fru substitute for the word.

They loved me though, that I was, and still am, sure of. I followed them to the pool. We splashed a little bit, and my father Maximilian showed off how long he could hold his breath while my mother Alexandra struggled to keep her make-up perfect even with me splashing her. After about a half an hour we dried off and headed toward the car; the day was over, and soon my life as I knew it was to be as well.

When we got to the car, a white convertible, my mother and father started loading our stuff into the trunk. I decided to explore the parking lot a little bit, adventurous as I was. That was my mistake though, because in that moment my parents lost track of me. This was his chance, and he took it. I suddenly felt a rough hand close around my mouth, to muffle my cries. He dragged me towards a white van, and heaved me in. He quickly shut the door, in order to keep his deed a secret. He opened the driver's seat door just long enough to jump in himself. He climbed into the back seat and pinned me down.

He told me to hush, and that he'd love me more than anyone ever had. He stroked my cheek with that same rough hand as before, in a manner full of perversion. He tied my wrists and ankles, and returned to his seat and started driving. I asked him where we were going, but all he said was that it was somewhere wonderful. I fell asleep during the ride, little did I know it was the last real sleep I'd ever have; the rest would be filled with nightmares of the day to come. We arrived at the place a few hours later from what I could tell.

It wasn't what one would expect it to be, to say the least. It was a large house, blazoned with vividly colored paintings, along with a host of other furnishings and commodities. He told me this was to be my new home. He clearly must have not known the meaning of the word, or else he would have known better than to say such a thing.

He showed me to my room, a stereotypical boy's room, complete with a racecar bed, and baseball lamp. It was a seven-year old boy's dream. I hated it. I went to bed that night terrified of what might happen next. I now knew that the beast under my bed, the creature in my closet, the whisper at my window, and all the other fiends that resided in my room were real, and he was one of them. For the next several years my life continued as a living hell, if you could even call it a life at all.

He treated me like a dog, trying to train me to love him. He told me to call him Dad, and when I didn't he hit me. Not just a light smack either, but a full-blown punch to the face. I would cry, and I would bleed, and he would apologize at the sight of it. He would hold me, and even sing to me like a good father, and I would hate him even more.

Continued ...(2/3)

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