I don’t know what’s waiting ahead of me.  After the accident in town, I’m undecided whether Karen will do anything.  At the moment, I’m strapped down to a thick wooden pole by multiple ropes and rusted handcuffs.  My wrists, behind the pole, are beginning to ache and the barn that I am in was becoming more revolting every second I am sitting here.  To Karen, I am the villain, I am the criminal, I am the problem.

Just days ago, in a rudiment town near the center of Kansas, I was driving home from a party, past the local shops and a youngling named Julia ran out in front of my car.  The killing was an accident, but her mother, Karen, doesn’t think so. Karen is the psycho who strapped me to this barn after I ran away from town. She chased me into the woods and struck me with a shovel until I was unconscious.  All I could see were the trees getting darker and the sun burning out until I awoke in this barn. Karen hasn’t appeared in front of me and I cannot let her be seen as the victim.

The large doors rest closed in my view.  Blood from my injury trickles down the back of my neck.  My skin is slashed open from falling and suffrage in the forest.  There is no sign of hope or faith in my life. I know this was the end.  Looking to my left, I notice a small metal pin. I shift my body to be able to grasp the tool.  Inserting the pin into the keyhole of my handcuffs seems to be working. With a tight yank, my left hand is free.  Making it out of here alive is nearly an impossibility, but hope seems to be increasing.

Layers of rope hold me grounded, preventing my escape.  I can already see my name written on a tombstone and the levels of death waiting for me.  Nothing sharp enough around me is able to cut through these ropes. I slide down to try to bite my way out.  I chomp on the ropes until my gums bleed and teeth are numb. Feeling around the back, I find a knot. I twist and turn to try to untangle the rope with serious struggle.  I keep trying, knowing this is the only way out. The ropes fall loose across my lap. All of a sudden, the barn doors burst open and slam against the walls. Karen treks across the dirt ground.  A gun appears to be accompanying her.

“Do you know why I have you hostage here?”

Leading with a gulp I reply, “Yes, but please don’t shoot me.  It was an accident back in town, I didn’t intend to run over your daughter.” Her dark eyes stare into my soul as if they were trying to turn me to stone.  

“As revenge, it is only necessary that you are put through the same torture as Julia.  She was killed, now, it’s your turn.” She drags the barrel of the pistol from my shoulder to my wrist.

With one handcuff still on, I hop out of the ropes when she was wandering around the other side of the pole.  I sprint away from the barn and into the nearby woods, dodging a piercing bullet. She chases after me, once again.  When exhaustion hits me, she’s nowhere in sight. I find a boulder to use as protection near a stream and I use my hands to take a sip, ignoring the rusted handcuffs.  As I think I outran her, I hear her boots plant in the ground behind me. Turning around, her right arm is aimed at point blank with a gun in hand.

“This is what you deserve!”

The sound of a gunshot echoes throughout the forest.  Birds fly away from their nests and critters scatter. I reach up to feel blood gushing from my forehead, just inches away from the center.  I observe the rest of the gore on my body. As I collapse to my knees, I whip around the other end of the handcuffs and Karen’s leg receives a new anklet; a rusty, metal anklet, attached by me, chaining Karen to her biggest regret.