CHAPTER THREE

Dinner with my parents is awkward. During silent moments, my mom tries to fill with what’s been going on with the neighbors and my old friends for the last five years. Every friend who married and had a baby is like a knife to my heart. They’re brutal reminders of the years and happy memories I have lost. There will be no marriage, babies, or a happy ever after for me. That was ripped away when I was thrown down the rabbit hole, but not into a strange place, into a never-ending nightmare or worse, my nightmare ever after.

I nod to my parents as they talk and smile over at me as if I am a miracle from God. I understand why. Their long lost daughter has returned. I wish I could be happy I am home, but everything around me reminds me of what I’ve lost, what was ripped away from me. My innocence, dignity and my soul. Scarred and irreparable, there’s no going back. I am a shell of a woman and I’m destined to sit across from the people I love, act interested and happy, and nod when all I can see are their faces taunting me. Telling me I’m used, telling me I’m worthless. I was once good enough for this family, but now I’m dirty, and if I stay, I will only stain them with my nightmare. I need to tell them I’m not staying here for more than one night. It’s best this way.

“Kanye’s going to stay at Dom’s for a while so I’m going to move into his house until I can find something permanent,” I blurt out quickly before my mom can start talking again.

My parents freeze with their forks hanging in the air, staring at me. I watch as they slowly process my words and their shoulders and hands start to relax.

“Honey, that’s your house too,” my mom replies softly as she begins eating her food again.

“Oh, um, yeah, I know,” I lie, not wanting to have this conversation with them.

They both nod slowly, looking confused, but neither of them push me on the subject.

“Always a room for you here, baby,” my dad states and resumes eating.

After dinner, I head up to my old room and sit on the old single bed with the outdated purple comforter that matches the faded lilac-colored walls. The walls still hold the marks from where I stuck pictures up of Kelly Slater and Leonardo DiCaprio. I was obsessed with Romeo and Juliet. I would watch Leo and Claire die over and over again. I forced Kanye to watch it once. I was seventeen and my parents were with Jake at an away football game. I talked Kanye into coming over for the weekend. He was hesitant. Saying if my parents found him there when they were away, it would make proving to them he was good for me that much harder. But I was seventeen. I didn’t care about my parents. All I cared about was the love of my life, so I talked Kanye into it, and it turned out fine. My parents weren’t the type to come home early. They had timetables and routines they always stuck to.

“Let’s head up to my room and watch ‘Romeo and Juliet’,” I say to Kanye. I stand from the couch and pull on his hand.

Kanye groans. “Emmy, no way.” He yanks me down and twists us. Suddenly, I’m below him. “I’m not wasting a weekend alone with you watching a sappy movie where they die in the end.” He kisses me and I shake my head away from his lips, laughing.

I gasp out in fake horror. “Kanye, that story isn’t sappy. It’s a life changing epic, love story. And they don’t just die! They die for each other. They couldn’t live without the other. It’s powerful and beautiful and you haven’t seen the Leo version yet. You’ve only watched the older version at school. This version has gunfights and explosions.” I stick my bottom lip out and beg him with my puppy dog eyes.

He groans and kisses my pouty lips. “Goddamn it, Emmy, will a day come when I can ever say no to you?” He looks at me as if wanting a serious answer to the question.

“God, I hope not. It would mean I’d have to start buying extra chocolate, extra ice cream and clean my own car.”

Kanye laughs out loud and I take the opportunity to jump up from the couch.

He smacks my ass and says, “Fucking too cute for your own good.”

I wink at him over my shoulder and he jumps from the couch at me. I squeal and run up the stairs to my bedroom. I’m in my room when Kanye catches me and tackles me onto my bed. He tickles my ribs and I lose it and start laughing and snorting until no sound is coming from me, and my breathing starts to struggle. Kanye see’s my limit and stops. My chest rises and falls heavily as I catch my breath.

A quick laugh bubbled up from my chest one last time and I push Kanye’s hands off my waist to set the movie up on my TV.

After it’s set up, I walk back to my bed and see Kanye lying on his side with his hand holding his head up smirking at me. I smile back at him, wondering how I became so lucky to have him care about me. Love me.

I lie in front of Kanye and curve my body into his. He pulls me in closer, kisses my neck, and wraps his arm around my waist and that’s how we stay through the whole movie.

That’s how Kanye and I were all the time. So in love. We were always like that even up until I was kidnapped. We fought, but it was mostly jealousy. Kanye and I were both very jealous people. Our love was fierce and that fierceness leaked into our protectiveness over our relationship. We both knew neither of us would ever betray nor jeopardize what we had. But we also knew others were jealous of what we had and often tried to come between us. Despite that, we always came out stronger and on top. The Emily and Kanye team were the winning team as long as we were together.

But not anymore. Kanye needs to realize that, and he will. If he gets too close, he will see just how defiled I am.

I find some pajamas my mom must have left on the bed earlier. I change into the flannel pants and singlet top. Looking down at myself and then around the room, my stomach clenches. So much as changed in just a matter of days. I pray I don’t go to sleep to wake up and realize this is all just a dream.

My mom chooses that moment to walk in and reinforces this is indeed reality and I am finally free. Well, of the guards and rules anyway.

She smiles over at me and it’s a small smile. My chest tightens. She’s nervous and she should be. What she wants to know from me would send her to an early grave. That’s why I will carry my nightmares and memories with me until my dying day. No one can know what happened to me. No one can know I was raped, abused, demoralized, held to the brink of death and then brought back, all in the name of power, greed, and sick fuckers who could only get off if they were choking you while they fucked you. No one can find out just how truly bad it was.

“Em, honey, can we talk?”

I nod, not trusting my voice right now. I want to scream to the heavens how unfair my life is. Why me? Why did this have to happen? I want to crawl into my mother’s arms just like when I was a little girl and I had a bad dream. I want her to tell me everything is going to be okay. I want to call her mommy, have her kiss my temple, and rock me to sleep. But I can’t. I have to live with these feelings and thoughts—nightmares—for the rest of my life. Just that thought alone has me wanting to slice my skin open and crawl out of my body.

We take a seat on the bed and she asks, “Can you tell me what happened, Emily?”

My brave mother asks with a strong voice, yet the tears pooling in her eyes show the agony she fears will come with my answers.

My palms sweat as fear courses through my body. I want to tell my mother just enough to satisfy her need to find out how damaged I am. However, I’m scared my dam will break and I will destroy us both with my memories. I draw in a slow breath and start at the beginning. “A man said he was lost. He wanted to show me a map of where he was going and asked if I could show him where he was on the map. I went to his car and he pulled a gun on me. I ran but he caught up to me and hit me on the head with his gun.”

My mother’s hand slaps over her mouth as she gasps. I take her hand away from her mouth as tears fall down her face.

“It’s okay. I was seen by a nice doctor and only had a bruise from the hit.”

What I don’t tell my mother is that I didn’t see a doctor at all and I was in and out that whole time. I have no memory of how I was taken to Columbia, who was with me or what was done to me.

My mother gives a hesitant nods. I can see how desperately she wants to believe my lie.

“Then?” Mom asks me gently.

“I was taken to a man named Marco who told me he owned me and that I was the first piece in his collection. At the time, I had no idea what any of it meant, but I soon found out.” I pause, gauging how my mom is doing. Her eyes are slightly wider than a moment ago and her lips are pressed together. Her small hands balled into tight fists.

“Around two months into my kidnapping, I met three women; Allison, Donna and Kelly. We were moved to a house in the Colombian jungle. Marco said it would be our home. Once a month, we were taken to a private location and put on a stage. We were auctioned off to the highest bidder for the night.”

My mother stands from the bed and walks to my old empty dresser in the corner of the room. She holds tight to the corners and a cry is released from her lips.

I stand from the bed, wanting so much to reach out to her, comfort her, but my hands stay firmly placed at my sides.

“Mom, please,” I beg. “Please don’t be upset. Most of the time I wasn’t bought by anyone.” Lie. I was bought every time.

She calms and looks over at me. “And the times you were?”

My stomach rolls and my heartbeat feels suddenly heavy. “It was unpleasant, but it’s over. I’m home now. Can we please focus on that and stop delving into the past. I understand you need to know, but look at me. I’m fine.” I extend my arms out to show her my physical appearance is unharmed. “I’m healthy and I am home.”

“Your eyes, Em, they’re blank and that scares me so much. Every expression that has graced your face since the airport has been fake. Don’t think I don’t know. I’m your mother. You may think you are hiding your pain and misery well, but you aren’t. It screams off you like a volcano about to erupt.”

My head jerks back and my heart races. I’m not expecting her reply at all. She can see straight through me. I can’t even protect my family from that fucking collection.

“I’m not going to push you, Em. I just need you to know I am here for you. I’m here to take the burden from your shoulders. Give it to me, baby girl, so you can get some rest,” she says on trembling lips.

“I can’t,” I whisper in a shaky breath.

Doesn’t she understand if I tell her, the burden will only grow heavier? I can’t bring this pain to my family. I need to save them from it.

As much as I can’t go back to that girl from five years ago, I’m desperate for them to go back to the place in time when they were happy, knowing their daughter was okay.

I will make them believe that. I will give them the relief they deserve.

I will find myself or die pretending I’m okay.