The Girl On The Wall…
I dunno what the time is. I’ve lost all track of time. It might be hours, it could be days but I reckon it’s been hours. It’s dark here. There’s a light bulb that hangs from a ceiling but it’s not bright. Like the light in my Nanny’s bathroom. And I’m cold. I have my stripy t-shirt and light blue jeans on. There’s no windows in this room. I can’t tell what time it is.
My wrists hurt.
I remember I was with my friends in the park. It was Saturday. Afternoon..? Yeah, it was because we were hungry and talking about Big Macs and chicken nuggets. I didn’t want any of that, I wanted a KFC but I was the only one. So they all went in McDonalds and I stayed outside and texted my mother because she always wants me to. Wish I wanted a Big Mac…
I’m tied up. On a wall. By my wrists and ankles. I can’t move. I think my wrists are bleeding.
The next thing I remember is being in this room. I dunno what happened. Honest to God, Mum, I don’t. I was texting you and then I was here. I do remember a rumbling. And cars. But I don’t remember getting here or where here is. I hope someone finds me. I don’t like it here. I want to go home.
I can feel something trickling down my arm. It might be blood. Where I’m tied, it’s cutting into me. It’s tight. I think it’s plastic like those things Daddy puts on his wheels to stop people stealing his hubcaps.
I’m so cold. Shivering.
They are probably so worried about me. I’m not a bad girl like Lisa or Emma. I don’t smoke (although I tried it once – yuck!) and I don’t stay out late. I have not had a boyfriend or kissed a boy yet.
Will I ever kiss a boy?
There’s a boy I like too. I don’t think he knows but Emma said she was gonna tell him but Emma says a lot of things. In a way I hope she did say something because I don’t think I’m brave enough to say it myself.
I’m really scared.
Why would someone do this to me? What have I done? I’m good. I’m no troublemaker. Why pick me? I’m not special or pretty or brainy.
I’m nothing special. Why me?
I want to go home.
I want my Mum and Dad.
My Dad will save me. I know he will. Or my brother. He always sticks up for me when the bigger kids start picking on us. Daddy will get the police and they’ll come and get me. I know he will.
I’ve been trying not to look but there is a table on the floor in front of me. It’s about the same size as my kitchen table so you can fit six people around it. One on each end and two at the sides but in our house we sit one on the side. Me and my brother. On it is a white tablecloth but there are lots of stains on it that haven’t come out in the wash. Like when I spilled the gravy on Sunday and Mum said it would ‘never come out’ and Daddy gave me a row. I hope they forgive me. If I get out of here I will buy a new tablecloth for them with my pocket money to say sorry.
If I die I want my little cousin Lucy to have my toys and I want my school to have my books.
I… don’t think they are gravy stains though.
I’m going to die aren’t I?
I’m cold and hungry and my wrists hurt.
Oh no, I can hear someone behind the door. His feet are crunching on gravel or shells or something. He opens the door and I can see his shape in the doorway. He is skinny. I ask him to let me go but he doesn’t answer. He just closes the door. I can see him better now thanks to that light bulb. I don’t know him. He looks normal.
I start to cry and I pee. The man starts to hum a song as he puts on his gloves.
I love my Mum and Dad and my brother and my friends and my Nanny and…
I close my eyes.
He sings a song I know from Snow White.
My eyes are still closed…