Reflections 3

I think we need to get a new duvet cover.  Looking at it now, I can see that it’s starting to wear a bit thin at the seams – we need to do something about that.  Must make a note of that when I get a chance to write it down in case I forget.


Actually, come to think of it, we could do with replacing that dressing table as well.  I wonder if I can persuade Jack to do some re-decorating as well – there’s a nasty stain just there above the bedside table that needs to be dealt with.


I’m not sure why I’m thinking about this now – probably to distract myself from the increasing pulling of the tape that is being wound around my wrists as I lie here.  The ripping sound is a little difficult to miss as the tape comes off the roll, but I can live with that.  The man who’s doing it isn’t hurting me as such, but I still would like to know what makes him think he can do what he’s doing.


Actually, scratch that last thought – the big knife he waved in my face when he grabbed me a short while ago are the reason he would give.  He and his “friend” just walked into our kitchen as Gina and I were having a coffee, without any word or apology, and threatened us both if we cried out.  This one took me by the arm, and forced me upstairs to our bedroom, telling me to lie face down while he “took care of me”.  I understand what he meant by the now, as my wrists are being held together behind my back.


I’m just worried about what’s happening to Gina – the other guy looked even worse.


He’s a real cutie – even if he has got a nylon stocking over his head.  Blonde hair and eyes that look as if they are blue – I could really fancy him.


I’m not sure about his mate, though – he wasn’t exactly nice to me or Mum when the two of them came in, waving knives around and telling us to be quiet.  He grabbed Mum by the arm and took her upstairs, while this guy just sat down and asked me if I wanted to finish my coffee.  Nice of him – and he’s well built as well.  I can see his chest through the open collar of his shirt.


As I finished my coffee, he took me by the hand and asked me to come with him – he needed to make sure I wouldn’t get in the way while they robbed our house.


So I went up the stairs with him.  I could hear the sounds of Mum and the other guy in my parent’s bedroom, but she didn’t sound as if she was in any real distress.


My arms are starting to hurt. I’m sitting up now, and the man is wrapping tape around my arms and chest, I suppose to make sure I can’t try and free my wrists.  Sitting here, I can’t stop looking at the rather full washing basket, and wondering when I’m going to get a chance to get started on the work that needs to be done.  Something tells me, however, that there may be a lot more mess to clear up later.


I hope this stuff doesn’t damage my top – I only got it yesterday.  Blue and black patterns on a silver-grey background, and made in a wrap-round style with black trim and short sleeves.  When he taped my wrists, they were bare, but now this stuff is going to pull at the material, and I may not be able to wear it again.


He’s behind me at the moment, kneeling on the bed as eh keeps wrapping the tape around.  I can smell the tobacco on his breath as he keeps going.  Both of the men had stocking pulled over their heads, but I can see this one has greying hair – the change in colour is evident at the temples.  He’s also got the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and I can see the grey hairs on his forearms as he passes to roll around.


I ask him why he’s doing this, and he just smiles and says “It’s a living and I like the way I make a living.”  Rude, but honest I suppose.


I hear the sounds of footsteps on the stairs, and I realise that the other bloke is taking Gina somewhere.  They’re silent, but I hope she’s all right.  This is going to be tough on her.


I know this is going to sound awful, but I’m finding this whole thing rather exciting.  A good looking bloke is going to keep me hostage – it should be scary, but I’m not scared at all.  It’s almost as if I know he’s not going to hurt me as such, just stop me from doing something for a while.


As we go into my room, I realise that I really should have tidied up.  There’s college work scattered all over the place, dirty clothes on the floor, and CD’s not in the rack.  I turn round to apologise, but he says it’s all right, he’s seen worse in his time.


He tells me to sit down on the bed, while he has a look around.  Opening my cupboards and drawers, I can see he’s looking for something, but rather oddly I need to know exactly what he’s looking for, so I ask him.


He turns, and smiles at me, and says “I’m looking for things that I can steal from you.  Tell me, where do you keep your jewellery?”


As I think about this, he asks me to scoot up so that I’m sitting at the head of the bed.  My jeans squeak a little – they’re skin tight, and do make a little sound when I move – as I place my back against the wall at the headboard.  I sit there, watching as I direct him to a small box that I keep on my dressing table, and he starts to examine the contents.  As he does so, I listen to see if I can hear what’s happening to Mum.


I can’t hear what’s happening to Gina, and that’s starting to worry me slightly.  I’ve been pushed onto my side, and to make myself a bit more comfortable I pushed up and laid my head on a pillow, with my hands behind my back against the mattress.  Looking down, I can see grey tape around my chest and waist, and I’m watching him as he turns over my drawers and looks for jewellery, and I presume anything else he wants to take.


I put my head back, and look up at the ceiling as I listen to the sounds of him searching.  That lamp shade looks as if it could do with a dust – actually, maybe Jack could replace the whole fitting.  If we’re going to do other things in the bedroom, I should add that to the list as well.  I start to make a mental note, mumbling to myself as I do so, so that when I get a chance to I will write it all down.


The tape is starting to make me itch, actually – it’s not uncomfortable, but I do wish I was able to give myself a good scratch on the wrists right now.  I try to move my arms around, but the tape just causes my top to move instead of just my arms…..


I notice that he’s looking at me in a strange way.  I really do hope he’s not thinking of doing anything stupid, and my thoughts turn back to Gina as I hear the sound of talking in her room.


Amazing – he likes Franz Ferdinand as well!!  He’s sitting beside me on the bed at the moment, talking about music and films as if we were on a first date.  I’m almost tempted to ask him for his phone number – but then I realise just why I’m here talking to him, and besides I’m watching him crossing my bare ankles as he talks.


He’d asked if he could take off the boots I was wearing, as he didn’t want them to be damaged as he was securing me.  I’d agreed, so he took the soft grey suede and gently pulled them off my legs.  He’d also taken off the white socks I was wearing underneath, and now he’d crossed my ankles and told me to sit still while he went to get something.  I put my hands on my head as he’d asked, and he said he trusted me not to move while he was out of the room.


Well, I could try and call for help, but my room looks out onto the rear garden, and no-one would hear.  I also don’t want him to have an excuse to hurt me or Mum, so I just do as he asks as he pops out.


He leaves the room, and I look round wondering what I need to take down off the wall.  I hear him talking to the other guy, and I wonder how Mum is.


Well, the younger man has just come in and he’s talking to his “friend” about something.   I can now see my crossed ankles as I look down my body, with grey tape wrapped around them, and I try to move them apart with no success.  The contents of our drawers are scattered all over the floor, and he’s used one of the pillow cases to put my jewellery and credit cards into.  The young man gives him a number of things I know belong to Gina, and they seem to be talking about what they’re going to be doing next.


They both turn and look at me, and the younger one tells me that Gina had asked if I was all right.  I nod, and ask him in turn if Gina is all right, to which he also nods.  As he leaves the room, the older man turns back to me and lifts my legs up slightly.  Picking up the roll of tape, he starts to wrap it round my legs below my knees, over the ends of the black leggings I’m wearing.  Guess they won’t be worn again either.


As he does this, he tells me that once his friend has finished, they’ll leave the two of us alone and get out of the house.  He’s already pulled the telephone in my bedroom out of the wall, and tells me they’ll do the same downstairs as well.  Tearing the tape off, he then starts to wrap it around me legs above my knees, and I hope Gina isn’t being secured in the same way.


Well, this is interesting.  He came back in, holding a roll of silver tape, and sitting at the end of my bed he started to wrap the tape around my crossed ankles, asking all the time if it was too tight.  To be honest, I’m not sure I’d care how tight it was, so long as he was the one who was doing it.


He keeps wrapping the tape up my legs, holding them together, but because I have my jeans on I don’t feel it pulling on me at all – only the security and certainty that I won’t be going anywhere for a while.  He stops just below my knees, and tearing the tape off he asks me if that’s uncomfortable.  I shake my head, as I look down on what almost looks like a mermaid tail where my legs are.


He asks me to slide down and rest my head on my pillow, and helps me to do so without pulling my covers off.  Taking my left wrist, he leans over me as he places it against my headboard and starts to secure it there with tape.  I can smell the cologne he’s wearing, and do you know I find myself fancying him more and more.


There’s the sound of more talking from Mum and Dad’s room, and I ask him what’s happening.  He says my Mum’s fine, but they’re making sure, as he is with me, that she can’t raise the alarm once they leave.  I find that oddly reassuring, and I start to relax a bit as he takes hold of my other wrist.


I’m really worried about Gina now.  As I lie on my back, trying to find a way to free myself, I can’t hear a thing that’s going on in her room.  I mean, this guy has only tied me up, but if they’re hurting my daughter in any way…


The man looks over me, and turns me over onto my side to see if anything has come loose.  Fat chance of that – my top and leggings may be keeping most of my body free from the stickiness of this tape, but I’m still done up like a sausage with no chance of escaping the grill.  I tell him as much, and he laughs – he actually laughs.


Anyway, as he rolls me back over, he tells me that they will be going now.  Before that, however, he holds up one of my dark blue scarves and folds it into a band.  He asks me to raise my head, and as I do so he ties it over my eyes so that I can’t see what’s happening.  He then asks me to open wide, and as I do so I feel what seems to be another scarf been carefully pushed into my mouth.  The ripping sound that follows tells me he’s got the roll of tape again, and I feel a tugging on my lower jaw as he smoothes tape over my mouth on at least three occasions.


There’s a kiss on my forehead, and then I hear the bedroom door closing.  As I lie there, I wonder what’s happened to my daughter….


Well, no way am I getting out of this.  He’s taped my wrists to my headboard, and I can’t even reach the edges that he’s smoothed down at the back of the board.  I look up at him as he leans over me, a smile through the nylon, and asks me if I’m all right.


The older man comes into the room, and looks at the way I’ve been tied up.  Nodding, he waves a finger at the young man and leaves with a pillow case in his hand.  He turns to me, says he’s sorry but he has to do this, and taking one of my socks he holds it over my mouth and tells me to open wide.


I ask if he has to use that, and he tells me that unless I would prefer a pair of my pants then yes.  I nod over to my chest of drawers, and tell him to look in the top left hand drawer.  He does this, and takes out a pair of clean, plain white pants, which he folds into a small ball and holds in front of my mouth.  This time, I open up and he pushes them gently in, before tearing some strips of tape off the roll and placing them gently over my lips, with a kiss each time.


He tells me not to struggle, and then picks up my headphones and a Franz Ferdinand CD.


I can hear doors closing downstairs, but my world is now darkness.  I can hear the birds singing outside, and the sound of cars in the road, but the blindfold means I can’t even see that stain on the wall.  More worrying for me, however, is I can’t hear Gina despite my attempts to call out to her.  I roll over on to my side, and lie there hoping that she’s all right, as well as wondering how long it will be before Jack gets home from work.


Oh god, I hope Gina’s all right….


Well, that was nice of him to put my headphones on me and start the CD playing.  I can’t hear Mum, but I hope she’s not struggling too much and trying to get free.  I’m just going to lie here and wait – no point in making myself sick, and I can think a few things over as well.


I just wish I could have got his phone number….