Bleeding newbie poster
Posts: 6
Location: Canada
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This one's a little longer than the past ones, but please take the time to read it.
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A WEEK’S VACATION
There's never anything good on the radio. Especially when you're driving out in the middle of nowhere. So I just turn it off. I don't feel safe on this road at all; it's one that I'd expect to see in an old movie where the main character is driving up to an old haunted mansion. The road itself is all stones and dirt, and I don't remember the last straight stretch there was. The edges of the road aren't fun either. To the right is dirt where I will be in a few moments as the road winds upwards, and to the left is nothing, just an edge, and below is where I was just moments ago. If I were to lose control and go off that edge there's no way I'd be able to drive away afterwards.
So why am I on this road anyway? My daughter called me about three hours ago and told me I had to come get her right away, but she wouldn’t tell me why. All I know is something happened and now she's all teary eyed. She's up here on vacation with her boyfriend (who I never really trusted). She had begged me and her mother to let her go, even though she is 21 she still lives with us and therefor she lives by our rules. I never wanted her to go with this guy, there was just something about him. But the wife thought it was a good idea and said she could go. And now here I am driving up to get her only two days into her weeklong trip. Which turn off do I need? Nope, not this one. It's so dark, I can hardly see. The next one looks right. Yes, of course, here's the place.
Parking is not a problem; there aren't too many people here at all. Other than myself there are only two other cars here. I can see the boyfriend’s car parked in the distance. I don't know why its parked way over there, I guess the place was packed over the weekend, now it's Monday. As I step out of the car I wonder what will happen next. What could have possibly happened to make her so upset that I had to drive three hours to get her? Is she all right? As I walk into the building where they're staying I don't see anyone around. No one at the desk, no one in the lobby. What kind of a lodge is this? There's no one here I can ask about where my daughter's room is. No need for that, I can see her sitting in a chair across the room. I make my way over to her slowly, as she has her head in her hands crying. I can see the phone next to her, the one she called me on, still off the hook. I wonder how much that call is going to cost me. I reach down to touch her shoulder and she looks into my eyes. Such sadness, her eyes are apologetic as if she had done something wrong. Without words she grabs my hand and walks me over to the elevator. Tears never stop rolling down her face as we rise higher, eventually stopping at the fourth floor. It's such an old place I'm surprised there even is an elevator.
I wonder how long since this place was cleaned. She takes her room key out of her pocket and slowly opens the door. She doesn't walk in though, just motions for me to go in. As soon as I take my first step I can tell something's not right. And my suspicions are redeemed as I turn the corner and see his lifeless body lying across the corner of the bed; his legs still gripped to the carpet. The sheets are stained in red, blood still dripping to the floor. I don't say a word; there's nothing I can say. I don't know how it happened, but with the lack of people here I can only guess who did this. I turn around to see her lying across the hallway, curled up in a ball on the floor, her back against the wall. She's not crying anymore, but she looks scared out of her mind. I lock the door and grab her arm as we walk down the stairs. Now she speaks. She tells me how he lied to her, how he said this was a weeklong getaway at a fancy resort. It turns out this place has been closed down for years, that his grandfather had once owned it. He assured her everything was okay as they found a room on a high floor and unpacked. The first night all was good, but she was worried still. He told her to wait until morning and she would see what he had planned. As she speaks they still walk, down the stairs, through the lobby and out the door to the car.
The next morning, the morning that just passed, she awoke to an empty room. The boyfriend was downstairs making breakfast for her in the kitchen. He wasn't hard to find, there was no other noise in the whole building. She says they food was nice, but she still wasn't sure of what they'd do for a whole week. She hadn't known him too long, she didn't feel safe. Nothing happened during the day, until the sun had set. She loves sunsets, almost as much as sunrises. She told him this, that she couldn't wait until the morning to watch the sun rise. She says they were up in the room when he started to kiss her neck. They had kissed before, it was nothing new, but she didn't want anything more. She wasn't that kind of girl, she wasn't ready. But he didn't understand that, his hands started to wander. She kept telling him no but he didn't listen. Eventually she had enough and pushed him away. That's when he took the knife out. He told her not to fight it or she won't have a chance to see the sun rise again. She was scared, more scared then she had ever been in her life. She let him do what he wanted. She says he went to take her bra off but couldn't do it. She thought his next move to be strange, as instead of cutting her bra off he put the knife down so he could take it off properly. He probably didn't want any evidence of rape. But as he struggled with the bra she moved quickly and grabbed the knife off the bed. She didn't think, she just acted on emotion, the hate and rage and fear inside.
We were heading out on the road now; I didn't say a word. I just let her talk. She says she stabbed him, she can't remember how many times, until he stopped moving. She never meant to kill him, that's just where it led. After an hour of sitting in the room thinking about what had happened she made her way downstairs and made the call, and she sat in the chair until he showed up. I still don't say a word as she finishes her story. What can I say? That everything will be okay? Because it won't. Even if she is telling the truth she still killed him. She'll be locked away for a long time, and hated for the rest of her life. How do they know he pulled a knife on her? What if she just killed him without being provoked? Too many thoughts fill my head. What will happen next? What should I do? Where am I going? I whisper to her (I’m to mentally exhausted to talk) that she should get some sleep. She curls up on the passenger seat and closes her eyes.
I take another turn down the winding road. I still don't know what to do. She will never be free again. I will never be free again. Look what I'm doing; I’m an accessory after the fact! I'll be locked up too! We'll never be free again! Both of our lives are over. Each thought overlaps the other; my mind is a mess. There's nothing I can do, nothing at all. She's still asleep next to me, everything is silent. At times like this I wish the radio got decent reception. What the hell! Why am I thinking about the radio when my future is gone, my freedom is lost. My daughter, and me not free at all. Soon we'll be caught; soon we'll be in jail. Soon we'll be in court, soon everyone will know. Too many thoughts, too little future. I have no choice; there's nothing I can do. And as I drove the car off the side of the road I felt freedom for the last time in my entire life.
Gary Hampton - July 14 2004
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please let me know what you think.
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