"I love you" I said, but then the line went dead.
I looked at my phone, the screen was blank. No battery. Could that have been the last time I ever heard my husbands voice? I had been smart, and lucky enough to have flicked the silent switch and shoved the phone into my bra as I'd heard my captors approach. Now, alone and seemingly abandoned in a cold, dark, damp room, my only contact with the outside world was gone.
I dug down into the sandy floor and buried my phone, hoping against all hope that the location detectors would still emit something despite the lack of power. I looked down at my torn, blood-stained clothing and tried to recall the events of the last few hours.
If my foggy memory served me correctly, it had been around 6am that I was taken. The streets were still quiet as local residents slept peacefully, unaware of my helpless plight. I had been performing my morning yoga routine in the garden of the small home I was renting whilst working here. It was known that the abduction of wealthy foreigners was rife-but that would never happen to me-that's what I had told my concerned family when they heard of my impending stay in the remote African town.
I heard them before I saw them, three masked men came hurtling towards me, I'm not sure if I made a sound but they told me to shut up as they dragged me brutally into the back of a battered old Fiat van. I don't recall much after that, I think I was knocked out, whether from shock or a blow, I couldn't tell you.
Now I am here. how far they have taken me, I don't know. One thing that I am sure of however is that I'm here for a ransom payment. There could be no other reason, so many foreigners have been here before me.
I hear a noise, a scratching sound and a cough. I'm certain that was a cough. It had been so quiet, I had been sure that I was alone, at least for the time being. Were my captors back or was there another hostage?


It's not easy to carry around a secret, especially when it's not yours to tell. If it had been mine and I'd have let it slip, that would've been my own problem to solve, my own mess to clean up, my own fault.
It was my fault but the mess that I had subsequently created was not mine to clean up and Andrew had been so furious, I'd had to flee. To give myself some credit, I had managed to keep the secret under lock and key for many years, I had put myself under immense duress and avoided countless social situations all in the name of guarding his wrongdoing. I felt powerless.
When he first told me what he had done, I'd been mortified and my initial instinct had been to run as far from him as was humanly possible, contact the police, perhaps. But my charming new fiance had quickly shown me the monster he truly was and I was terrified into submission. He knew that he had me exactly where he needed me and I was now merely an object under his control.
As the impending wedding grew ever closer, my love for him grew ever weaker. I couldn't back out, my father had thrown his life's savings into the weddings and I just couldn't let him down.
The day of my marriage came and went and soon Andrew began to talk about having a family. I couldn't have a child with this man, not knowing what he was capable of, they would never be safe. I never thought I'd be so happy to receive the news that I couldn't conceive. If this nightmare ever ended and I met someone new, I would adopt. That was far more of a preferable option than putting a child into the care of Andrew.
Now, I had to ensure that he would never find me, never be able to contact me or seduce me into standing by him through the endless trials that were to come. I couldn't, I wouldn't. The image of his sister's face when she came to realise that it was her own brother who had kidnapped and murdered her child, will haunt me forever. And I am an accessory to that.


This is a preliminary outline for the first chapter of a full story I am going to write.

Please check out some of my other work at www.creativelykaren.wordpress.com

The rainforest fell quiet, I knew it was coming back. It had been three days that I had scoured this jungle for a way out, all the while being tracked by something that I was certain I had never seen in any guide or nature journal, but those three days felt like an eternity. The crippling, relentless humidity had me clamouring for respite, but it never came. That was until the rain began to fall, rain like I have never seen before. Falling like sheets all around me, nowhere to shelter, it was all I could do to allow the cold water to cascade over my body and wash away the sweat and the dirt of the previous hour.
I sat, curled up underneath a huge tree with even bigger leaves, everything here was colossal, the plants, the insects, the ravines, in the short time I had been here, I had almost plummeted to my death on more occasions than I care to remember. As I sat, trying to remain as calm and still as I could, the large creature approached. I could have sworn it could smell my fear, every time my heart raced a little faster, I felt it pause and sniff the air. Its gnarling teeth, dripping with saliva, as though it had never eaten and I was going to be it's long awaited first meal.
I had never witnessed an animal quite like this, and I was frankly amazed that no-one had ever documented the creature. It stood on four legs, although the front two seemed to serve as arms. It had a dark thick fur coat and resembled something between a bear and a large cat. It had huge piercing eyes, those were what I had noticed first, penetrating through me as it watched me traverse it's territory. It didn't attempt to strike at me, it simply watched, and waited. It knew that it needn't worry itself with how it was going to catch me, that it knew all it had to do was pounce and I would be helpless, it appeared that it wanted to torment me before finally putting me out of my misery.
I always knew when it was near, all the other creatures would go silent, as if they had this deep respect for the beast and knew that when it was near, it was in charge, none of them dared to make a sound. The forest was so eerie when it was silent, all I could hear from my hideout was the deep, raspy breath of the animal and the snap of twigs underneath its feet as it stalked through the trees. I knew I couldn't hide from it forever, it was just a matter of how long I had left


1987 He could hear her footsteps coming ever closer, it didn't take much to disturb him from sleep now. It was almost as if his little mind was set constantly on high alert. She had reached the top of the staircase, now there were only a few paces to go before the bedroom door would open. It must have been pretty late by now, she always waited until everyone else in the house was sound asleep. One time, as she crept through his door, a voice echoed down the hallway: "Mommy, why are you going into Edward's room? Is he ok?" It was his foster sister, her real child, her real daughter. "Yes darling, he's fine. I'm just checking on him. Go back to bed, I'll check on you after."He got the blame for her curiosity, although he never knew why.

He lay frozen, waiting for her to enter the room. She always seemed much bigger in the dark, and much more intimidating. After what seemed like an eternity the door finally opened. Her shadowy figure loomed in the doorway, he could feel his body tensing up and his breath becoming more shallow.

"Boy." she whispered menacingly as the door clicked quietly shut. "I know you're awake."

She made her way over to the bed and pulled the covers off the terrified five year old.

"Yes mommy." he squeaked

"I'm not your mommy, you dirty little brat. That whore is dead, remember." She leaned in, close to the boys face, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. "That is why I'm lumbered with you." she spat.

She had only wanted to foster his older sister, but the social worker had insisted the pair not be separated. Her husband thought it would be wonderful to have a little boy in the family, she did not. But she had bitten her tongue and given her husband his way, but she would make it ultimately clear to the boy that he would never be welcomed by her.

He felt her cold hands wrap quickly and tightly around his throat, he struggled for air but he knew better than to fight back. He silently prayed that it wouldn't last too long

"Wasting my money and my time again tonight, you ungrateful child." the anger in her voice was so profound. "You think I want to be wasting a perfectly good meal on you, boy?!" He instantly knew what she was referring to, he hadn't been able to finish his dinner again tonight. He never could though. How could he when she purposefully always gave him too much? It was just another one of her sick games to make him feel useless and to give herself another chance to scold him when nobody else was watching.

"Well, you'll learn." she hissed as she released her grip on his fragile little neck. "Tomorrow you'll have nothing to eat."

He heard the sound before he felt the sting of her palm across his cheek. He recoiled back as he felt the tears begin to pool in his eyes. Without thinking, he allowed a small sob to escape his lips. she laughed quietly to herself.

"You're pathetic, boy. You never hear your sisters crying like little babies." she taunted. But he was still only a baby, just a small helpless boy. And that was the problem. "You want to learn some gratitude and respect. You'll never be like them though, will you, boy." And with that, she turned and left the room.

The small boy let go of his breath and curled himself up into a little ball. He lay frightened and sore from the assault he had just endured, and his tiny little mind tried to comprehend why the woman who was meant to protect him would treat him with such intolerable cruelty. As his breath began to return to normal and his body stopped trembling he felt the all too familiar feeling of his pjama bottoms becoming warm and wet. He knew there would be consequences in the morning, but he didn't dare to leave his bedroom. So instead he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep as the warm and wet turned into cold and damp.

He awoke to the sound of his sisters' laughter as their mother playfully helped them dress and wash. He could hear water being splashed and shrieks as they no doubt dodged each others' childish attacks. He would never be allowed to play such games.

"OK girls, down for breakfast you go." his mother told them as she placed a hand on his door handle and pushed down slightly, not daring to open the door fully until she was fully certain that both daughters were totally out of earshot.

"Boy, why aren't you out of bed?" she questioned as she furiously flung the curtains open.

"I'm sorry mo..." he stopped himself as addressing her as his mother before he faced another torrent of abuse for that.

She stood, arms folded, next to the bed. "Well are you getting up or aren't you?"

He knew he had no choice but he was filled, once again with fear because he also knew that she would notice the urine in his bed, including the fresh patch he had woken in the night to. He slipped out from under the covers and stood cowering in front of his mother. It was almost as if she had a sixth sense.

"Move that blanket back, boy." she ordered, he sheepishly obliged. "What is this?" she demanded, pointing at the wet sheet. "Pissed yourself again, you vile little rat."

"I...I didn't mean to." he stammered.

"Pah." she exclaimed. "Dirty tramps like you need to be taught a lesson."

Before he had chance to respond she had her hand on the back of his head. She twisted him around and forced the boys face into the wet, stinking bed. "Don't think you're so clever now, do you?" she pushed harder down on his head, all the while whispering insults into his ear. Even at a low volume she had the most threatening tone he had ever heard. "You'll be sleeping in that tonight."

He was trying so hard to remain still, he had learnt that struggling only made it harder to breathe, when she finally relented and threw him, panting to the ground.

"Get yourself ready for school."

He sat quietly in the back of the car, the smell of urine still resting in his nostrils. His throat still sore from the previous evening, but nobody would notice, she never had ever left a mark on him, it was like the incidents didn't ever happen to an outsider. It was their secret.

So many thoughts raced through his mind on the journey to school, maybe today would be the day he would tell one of his classmates. But he knew that day would never really come, the fear that consumed him was too great. All he truly knew was that for the following six hours he could be a normal kid and the fear could be put on hold. Just for six hours.

This is an extract from the book I am currently writing. You can read more of my work on my blog, the link is in my bio.

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