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The Good Doctor

By Danealle, wheeling, IL

The police sirens wailed behind us, but my captor was not about to slow down. My abhorrent abductor, Dr. Joseph Blaine; was our family’s doctor for the past 20 years. It was close to midnight and pitch black outside. It seemed even the moon was too terrified to be out. I was sitting with my hands bound by ropes and my mouth gagged with one of his Hermes, monogrammed scarves.

It was raining, which made the already precipitous roads even more dangerous. As we drove farther into the chilling forest the police sirens become quieter. He drove us far into the woods. I walked these woods many times as a child. I knew every turn and could name every sound. This time was different. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, the forest was silent, even the wind still.

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