Authors: Whitney Cannavina
“Shit. Ok. Yeah. You’re right. I can’t risk Sierra like that. Good thinking. So see if your friend can find out if she’s there. God I hope not but then again I hope so because that means we found her.”
“Yeah. I’ll call him right now. Later.” I hang up quickly as I see Mr. Morris getting into his car and leaving. I follow behind him a few cars back so it’s not obvious and see where he goes. First he heads home for a few minutes coming out with a few things in a bag and then leaves to a warehouse just out of town. It’s the same warehouse where they set up the underground fighting. Since I am the one who schedules these fights I already know about the warehouse but I’m wondering why a teacher would be coming here. There’s nothing there for him. I watch him go inside and fight the urge to confront him. I wait in my car parked on the opposite corner so I can see the door for when he leaves and wait. I wait for an hour or so before he finally emerges and gets back in his car. He leaves the warehouse and goes to another house near our neighborhood. He leaves his car and goes into the house like he knows the people that live there. But as he steps through the door a big guy who looks like a bouncer pokes his head out of the door and looks around the area as if searching for something. I sit and wait for the teacher to leave and after about three hours of waiting he finally emerges from the house and heads back home.
I realize it’s late by the time I reach home after waiting hours at Mr. Morris’ house to see if anything would happen. I head upstairs as quietly as possible to avoid waking up everyone who is asleep. When I make it to Sierra’s bedroom I plop back down on her bed and call Carson. Carson is my buddy in the sex trafficking world. He’s the guy who is trying to catch the main guy who runs the ring. I call him up and ask him what he knows of the house and if there is anything other than fights that go on at the warehouse. He says he will look into it. I also ask him if there are any new girls that were brought in and so far he hasn’t had any but he’d keep his eyes open. Now that I dealt with that I begin to read more of Sierra’s diaries. Now I read them so I can feel close to her now that she’s not here.
The rest of the week goes by about the same. I follow Mr. Morris and he goes to the same three places except for on occasion when he stops at the hardware store and the grocery store. Nothing to give the impression that he has her but I’m not taking any chances. I will find out what’s at that house and why he’s at the warehouse. First though, I need to check out his home. Maybe I’ll find something that the police missed.
The following Monday, I decide to check out his house while he’s at work. I take my tools with me and park down the street. I jump a few fences until I reach his and come in through the back. He didn’t lock his bedroom window so I had no need to pick his locks as I slid inside. I went around his house looking for any clues as to Sierra’s whereabouts but all I could find was a few pictures sitting on his dresser of Sierra and a box sitting next to it filled with even more pictures of her that were taken without her knowledge. I knew then for sure that he was her kidnapper. I knew before but this confirms it. The pictures were of her smiling or doing her cheers. All up close of her beautiful face.
Now that I’ve looked through his house finding only a few pictures and nothing else of importance, I think it’s time to check out the warehouse. I may be in there all the time due to the underground fight club but I have never been in the office. It’s always locked up and nobody goes in there. I guess that could be a possible place for him to hide her I just need to figure out how to get in there.
This is killing me not having Sierra here with me making me laugh and just hanging out talking. I miss hearing her voice and her laugh and hearing about her days. I’m so proud of her and I want the world for her. She has so much going for her with finishing school and her life just getting started. I want, no I need her back so she can do all the things she dreamed of. I want to be by her side as she accomplishes everything she’s ever wanted but I need her home in order for her to do that.
I have a job to do so when I got home I set up the schedule for the next fight happening on Wednesday night and hope that maybe I can hear any news of Sierra as I walk around. Until then I will continue to follow Mr. Morris around and see if he screws up somewhere.
I wake up with a pounding headache and a wave of nausea hits me causing me to lean over the bed and throw up into the small plastic waste bin next to it. I feel groggy and have a bad cotton mouth. I need water, a lot of water. I also really need to brush my teeth. God I don’t understand why I feel so bad. What happened? I sit up slowly rubbing my face and giving in to a yawn. I probably look like shit, too. I take a moment to look around the room not recognizing it. The walls are a dingy white and bare of anything with a small closet and no door attached on the opposite side of the room. There’s no clothes or hangers in it making it seem lonely and desolate. I scan the rest of my surroundings seeing nothing else but the filthy full size mattress that I am sitting on, the waste bin I just vomited in and a black duffle bag sitting by the door.
I realize that everything I went through these last few weeks or however long I’ve been taken for was not a dream. I really am in hell and I really was kidnapped. This seems to be a recurrence for me always hoping that it was all just a really bad dream but realizing this is my reality. I look around the room again hoping that I may be able to find a way out now that I’m not in that dank and cold cement cell. The only window in the room is barred like a jail cell but maybe if I scream loud enough someone will hear me and rescue me. I don’t think Mr. Morris was planning on me waking up just yet because I doubt he would have left me unattended in his home. At least I think I’m in his home.
I carefully stand up on wobbly feet still feeling the waves of nausea roll through me but I do my best to hold it down. I shuffle over to the only door in the room and try the handle. It’s locked. Of course it’s locked. The doors are always locked. I guess if I was a kidnapper I would lock the door too but I’m not and it makes my status just that more pitiful. It’s not fun being the one kidnapped. I know I’ve heard girls say they wouldn’t mind being kidnapped by someone as good looking as the guys in the movies but in all reality no matter how good looking the man is or not it is not something I wish on anyone else and it is definitely not something that rings true for me in this case.
I jiggle the door handle again hoping I can somehow get it to open like magic even though I know it won’t and growl in frustration when it doesn’t budge. I lean my forehead on the door and let the tears fall from my eyes with frustration and grief. I just want to be home in my own bed and close to my family. I hate this. I hate Mr. Morris with a passion that I never thought capable. I have never hated anyone in my life but I hate him.
I always believed that there was a reason for the way people acted. Some may act happy and excited in order to hide their true anguish while they deal with it behind closed doors while some act out by fighting or hurting others due to being beaten, molested or any number of things. But Mr. Morris, oh Mr. Morris I believe is just a horrid person who doesn’t know the meaning of loss or pain or even real happiness. I don’t believe he had anything happen to him that caused him to become a kidnapper. Maybe he has some sort of mental problem I don’t know about but he has no heart or else he wouldn’t have kidnapped me and kept me from my family. I know they miss me because I miss them. I’m sure they are doing everything they can to find me. I hope that it’s soon. I don’t know Mr. Morris’ plans for me but he moved me here so maybe that means they were close to finding me.
As I stand here and think about the possible reasons for Mr. Morris’ moving me to here, I hear a noise coming from the other side of the door. I push my ear up against it and hope to get a better idea as to what I’m hearing. Then I hear a light tapping on the other side. I don’t know who it is but I doubt it is Mr. Morris because he would just walk in here so I decide to play along. Maybe this person can help me escape or maybe this person is trapped just like me. I lower myself to the dirty and stained carpet in front of the door and cross my legs Indian style. I raise my hand and just before I knock I pause. I don’t know if this is a good idea. What if it’s a trick? What if the person on the other side of the door is Mr. Morris and he just wants to see if I am still trying to escape? I won’t know unless I knock and if it is him then I will deal with the consequences afterwards. I would rather take a chance and see if this is my way of escape. I slowly knock three times lightly and wait in bated breath. I stare at the door willing it to open and be saved while my heart races a million beats a second in fear, hope and excitement.
“Are you Sierra?” I can barely hear the words as they are whispered through the door by a soft melodic voice. I don’t know if I should say yes or not because I don’t know what they want.
“Who are you?” I say back not answering her question.
“I want to help you. He says we can’t speak to you but I snuck over here anyways. The news has been saying your name since the day you were kidnapped and when I saw him bring you in here I knew you were the girl they were talking about. Your parents offered to pay whatever ransom the kidnapper wanted but he doesn’t want money. He wants you all to himself. He said so. You were supposed to go to ‘the boss’ but I don’t think he will give you up.”
She speaks quickly to me probably trying to get out as much as she can before she gets caught speaking to me.
My breath hitches at the news of my parents and knowing they are doing all they can to find me. I’m elated and yet disappointed all at the same time because Mr. Morris wants to keep me. He’s not looking to trade me off to ‘the boss’ this girl mentioned, whoever that may be, but to make me his which is much, much worse in my book.
“Can you help me? Can you get me out of here?” I hold my breath and wait for her answer in hopes that she may be able to help me escape. I don’t want to be kept by Jeremy. I don’t want to be kept by anyone. I just want to go home.
“Oh god no. I wish I could help you escape but he would kill me. I’m sorry but I will try and get the message out that you are here and hopefully someone will rescue you before he moves you again. I’m afraid that if he moves you again you will forever be lost and nobody can rescue you then.” Great. Just great. Why is she even talking to me if she can’t help me?
“Who are you?” I knew I should probably stop talking so neither of us get into trouble but I needed to know. If I am saved because of her, or if I am able to escape I need to be able to tell them to go back for her. Without a name or being able to see her, how will they know who she is?
“I’m nobody of importance I can assure you. But if you must know they call me Dark Angel.”
“Why do they call you Dark Angel? Why are you here? What is going on?” So many questions are going through my head that I don’t know what to ask first but those seem like the most important ones at the moment.
“They call me Dark Angel because they don’t keep our real names after they take us. I got my name because of the color of my skin and because I’m innocent looking like an angel. I’m here because they plan to sell us. All of us. We are sold to the highest bidder and they get to keep us for however long. I heard once they sell us that we never see our family again.” The last was said on a whisper with what sounded like a sob coming from her.
“They are going to sell me? Are you kidding me?” My voice raises a little as she shushes me to keep quiet. “This is unreal. This only happens in movies. This doesn’t happen in real life. It can’t.” I’m panicking now. I don’t want to be sold and never see my family again. What do these people who buy us do with us? I could only imagine that it wouldn’t be pretty or fun. It sounds like what you would see in movies with sex trafficking or murder.
“Don’t worry. You are not sold. He is keeping you for himself. Says he’s had his eye on you for a while. Oh but don’t tell anyone that I told you. He said he’d kill me if I ever told anyone. He doesn’t want it coming back that he runs the place with his partner who they refer to as ‘the boss.’ They supposedly have well-respected jobs and they don’t want people to find out what they do on the side.” Who is ‘he’ that she keeps referring to? Is it Mr. Morris? And who is this partner of his? I can understand why Mr. Morris wouldn’t want anyone to find out. High school is the perfect place to prey on girls and abduct them to sell to the highest bidder.
As I ponder what Dark Angel just told me, I hear her shuffle on the other side and panic grips me not wanting her to leave me. Finally I have someone to talk to other than Mr. Morris about the outside world. I need her to stay with me or else I may just go crazy. Instead she quickly whispers in a panicked voice. “I’m sorry. I need to go. It was nice talking to you.”
“NO! Don’t go. Please stay.” I start beating the door in hopes that she’ll come back and keep talking but know it’s futile. I am utterly alone again.
Thinking to everything she said to me I want to know who this boss guy is. Do I know him? Is he a fellow teacher or does he have a different job? There are not many jobs that are well-respected so I can only think of a few things. Law enforcement and politics are right up there in the well-respected careers. I probably will never know but one thing is for sure, I am grateful that I won’t be sold. That means that there will still be a chance for me to be rescued or escape. If I were to be sold who knows who would have purchase me, or where I would be shipped off to or even if I could escape from that person. The buyer may just want to kill me for the hell of it. My imagination runs wild with different scenarios before I finally shut it down trying to get the mental images out of my head before I make myself sick again.