“Miss Rider, is there something so incredibly important on your cell phone that it deserves your attention more than my class?”
The monotone voice of my Advanced English teacher caused me to close my most recent text message with a startled click and snap back into reality. A few of my classmates looked my way for a moment, then went back to feigning their interest in Mrs. Pierce’s lecture about a novel we would be reading soon. My cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and I snuck a glance at my best friend, Noah, sitting in the desk next to me.
“He wants you to ditch again, doesn’t he?” Noah asked with a look of annoyed frustration. Noah had been my best friend since we could walk, and by now he knew me like the back of his hand. Though we had always been “just friends,” Noah strongly disapproved of the relationship I had with my boyfriend. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
Aiden was twenty-three years old, with no job, an old piece of junk for a car, and a bad attitude. He had worked for my father for a few months at his auto shop, until my dad was forced to let him go. He had missed his shifts on a regular basis, and even raised his voice at customers who would not cooperate. The final straw for my father was when he asked Aiden to clean the restrooms. Aiden’s reply to his request was, “I’m not cleanin’ no God damn bathrooms old man.” Dad had fired him on the spot.
My parents didn’t have the slightest clue that Aiden and I had continued seeing each other in the four months since my father had let him go, and sometimes I wanted to smack myself for getting so involved with my not-so-loving boyfriend. In the beginning, the idea of sneaking around with an older guy behind the backs of my protective parents was a thrill to me. After seventeen years of being a straight-A goody two shoes who always had her nose in a textbook, it felt freeing to do something rebellious.
But when Aiden began to show his true colors, I went from feeling exhilarated to unnerved. Aiden wanted things done his way, or no way at all. When a situation doesn't turn out exactly as he planned, he loses all control. The most severe of these outburst occurred about two weeks ago. I had let Aiden sneak into my room for the countless time while my parents were out at dinner. I told him that he needed to leave earlier than usual, because they would be home sooner than expected.
“But I’m not ready to leave yet sugar,” he had said, putting his hands around my waist and pulling me in toward him.
“You need to go,” I had repeated before his lips could meet mine, hating the way he used pet names to try to get me to cave under his touch. I lurched my body away from his. A look of instant rage appeared in his eyes, and his hands began to quiver with fury. He shoved me away, spun around, and punched my bedroom window with full force. It shattered into a million pieces with a deafening csshh.
“That’s the last time you tell me what to do, understand?” he had roared. I wanted more than ever in that moment to end things with him. I wanted to look straight into his dark eyes and tell him that we were over, and to get out of my house, but I was frozen with fear. So, I had let him give me a final disgusted look, crawl through my broken window with deep red blood dripping from his right hand, and speed away in his car. I was in too deep and I knew it, and my want to be wild was going to end with heavy consequences.
Now, sitting in class, Aiden had texted me a time. “1:30.” There was no explanation with the message, but I knew what it meant. Like he had multiple times in the past few months, Aiden was requesting that I leave school so that I could meet up with him and be driven to a parking lot a few miles away. I looked at the clock, which read 1:20. I wanted with every fiber of my being to tell him to forget it, that I wasn’t coming, but I was too afraid of what he would do to me if I didn’t show up. So, instead, I let out a deep sigh and turned to Noah to answer his question.
“Yes, he wants me to ditch again,” I said, knowing that Noah could see past my facade of pretending that meeting up with Aiden again was no big deal.
“Tessa, please don’t,” he replied. There was exasperation in his voice. Though I had never told him, or anyone for that matter, about how violent Aiden could be, Noah just knew. He was my best friend, and no matter how hard I tried to hide my fear, he could read me like an open book.
Just as Noah opened his mouth to protest more, the bell ending fourth hour rang, and I gathered up my books and slipped out of the classroom before he could get in another word. Near the door of the English room, there was an exit that led to the back parking lot of the school. After throwing my books into my locker, I disappeared out of this door and, sure enough, there sat Aiden on the hood of his rusting blue pickup truck. He wore faded blue jeans with a fraying hole in the left knee, sunglasses that hid his dark brown eyes, and light gray t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms. I despised myself for finding him attractive.
“Ready to go, baby girl?” He slid off his truck and began walking toward me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. His voice, which once sounded so sweet and enticing, now made me feel a sense of uneasiness. Suddenly, the warm spring air was too constricting, and sticky beads of sweat started forming on my palms.
Aiden reached me with a few strides of his long, tanned legs. Being a bit over six feet tall, he towered over me. I felt so small, so intimidated. When he forced his lips onto mine, I flinched, but didn’t pull away. By now, I knew that resisting was pointless. His strong arms held my body tightly against his, and as we continued kissing, I felt his hand slide under the tail of my shirt. The place where his rough fingers met my bare stomach turned to ice, despite the hot temperature. I hated every second of his advances, and when he pulled away, relief flooded over me.
But then, my cowardice returned with full force when he grinned and said, “On second thought, let’s stay right here. No point in wasting any time.” His voice dripped with persuasion, and every muscle in my body tightened with fear.
“We’re at school Aiden, I can’t do that,” I replied. The shaky words came out with much less conviction than I was counting on.

I saw anger flash across his eyes for just a moment, but then he regained composure and said, “That’s what makes it fun sugar.”

Aiden grabbed my right arm and half dragged me to his truck. I quickly scanned the parking lot, hoping that someone would walk out of the building and see this nightmare that was unfolding. Of course, there was no one in sight, and as Aiden’s strong grip on my arm tightened, I cursed myself over and over in my head for ever getting involved with such a sorry excuse for a man.

When we reached the pickup, Aiden put an arm under both of my legs and scooped me up like a helpless child. He roughly laid me across the back seats. I could feel the leather burning through my thin shirt to my back, and as Aiden climbed into the truck and positioned himself over me, I was struggling to swallow air. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and prayed that this would all be over soon.

When his lips again collided with mine, I knew that if I just gave in for a few minutes, then I could walk out of the truck and act like none of this ever happened. But then, I felt Aiden’s hand reach for the button of my jean shorts, and I pulled my head away from his. It slammed onto the car seat.

I looked Aiden straight into his soulless eyes and said with a much strength as I could muster, “Stop it, I’m not doing that. Get off of me and let me out of this truck.”

Aiden gripped both of my shoulders with a constricting hold, and the veins on his forehead popped out as anger coursed through him. I was terrified, but this time I wasn’t going to back down. I had to stop this. I couldn’t keep living my life in constant fear that Aiden was going to go too far and leave me feeling like dirt under his shoe.

“What did you say to me?” Aiden replied. He said the words slowly, enunciating each syllable. His hold on my shoulders tightened, and I could feel each one of his fingers digging into my muscles.

“I said let me out of this truck.” My adrenaline was kicking in now, and my voice no longer shook.

“Shut up!” Aiden screamed. He was losing control, and I could see it in the wild look on his face. He had broken a sweat, and his whole body was quivering with rage. “I am not finished with you yet!”

I spit in his face, right into his left eye. For a moment, he was completely silent. Then his face contorted into a look that I will never be able to get out of my head, and I knew I had just pushed him over the edge. In one swift motion, Aiden threw himself backwards out of the car, grabbed me by my feet, and yanked me onto the pavement. My head connected with the blacktop, and immediately I felt warm blood dripping down the back of my neck. I was seeing stars, and barely had time to register Aiden’s closed fist raised in the air before it made contact with the left side of my face. And then, blackness.

When I came to, my clouded eyes were slowly able to focus on where I was. I recognized Aiden’s bedroom. I was surrounded by his dark walls and broken wooden furniture. His peeling white bedframe enclosed his always unmade bed. For a moment, I was puzzled by the two brown ropes tied to each bedpost at my feet. Then, to my horror, I realized that the ropes were connected to my ankles. Two others were tied to the posts at my head and were digging into my wrists. The pain in the back of my head was excruciating, and I could feel several cuts on my back, which was pressed onto Aiden’s bed sheets. Dried blood covered my neck and face.

I let out a sound that would have been a blood-curling scream, but the noise that escaped sound more like an mmphh. There was a thick piece of duct tape covering my mouth.

“Don’t try to scream sugar, no one’s gonna hear ya.” My whole body flinched at the sound of Aiden’s voice. Only now did I realize that he was sitting in a folding chair off to my left. His legs were crossed and he was slouched forward, as if this was a casual meeting between two friends instead of an abduction.

I saw something catch the sunlight coming from the tiny window near the ceiling. My eyes grew wide with fear. Aiden had a switchblade in his right hand. This is it, I thought to myself. I’m going to die here, tied down to this bed. I felt warm tears begin to well in my eyes as Aiden rose from the chair and began pacing around the room.

“You know Tessa,” he said, taking each of his steps slowly, as if he were in deep thought, “this didn’t have to end this way. If only you had listened...” Aiden made his way over to the bed and sat at its edge. He touched a smooth side of the knife to my left leg, and started running it up my body towards my neck. The cool blade traveled up my side and finally rested on my throat.

“Now, you will not resist me, understand? I’ll run this knife across your pretty little neck. I dare you to move. ” Aiden whispered the words in my ear while keeping the knife held at my throat. He again reached for the button of my jeans with his free hand, but this time, struggling to fight him would mean the end of my life. I closed my tear-filled eyes and accepted my fate.

Just as my button came undone, Aiden’s front door was kicked open with extreme force, and three armed police officers came bursting into the bedroom, guns pointing right at Aiden’s head. It all happened so fast. Before I could blink, one of the officers had yanked Aiden off of me while another tied his arms behind his back in handcuffs.

“Aiden Robertson, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Tessa Monroe. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law...” The voice of the officer who was now reading Aiden his Miranda Rights faded out as the third officer began cutting the ropes that bound me to the bed.

“Tessa, you’re going to be okay. Just relax and we’ll get you home safe to your parents,” he said in a soothing tone. I couldn’t even reply. I was so stunned by what had happened, and by what I had just been through, that I couldn’t form words in my dried mouth.

When the officer finished freeing me from the bed, he picked me up and carried me out of the house, just in time to see Aiden getting shoved into a police cruiser. I looked away, not wanting to have to ever see that evil face again. I turned my head over my shoulder, and there stood Noah. When he saw me, beat-up but alive, relief washed over him and the brightest of smiles appeared on his face.

The officer set me down, and I sprinted over to my best friend. We embraced and he held me so tightly that, despite all the horrors that would replay in my mind for years to come, I felt safe. His warm arms wrapped around my skinny body, and I pressed my face into his red cotton shirt as the tears finally began to roll silently down my cheeks.

“When you didn’t come home after school... it had been hours... thought you were dead...” Noah babbled on and on, but I just stood there and let him hold me, never wanting him to let go.