[Someone's Kitten]

“RUN!” My mind screams at me when he starts the car. “RUN YOU IDIOT! RUN!” That’s what I want to do. I want to run screaming from the sick pervert behind the wheel of my car. I don’t even care that the car is moving and I’ll probably kill myself by jumping out of the moving vehicle. Anything would be better than what my imagination is dreaming up about what he’s going to do to me.

"Now, Priscilla, I want you to just lay back and enjoy the trip...OK?"

Oh, god. I wish he’d shut up. I wish he’d quit talking to me, telling me what to do. The sound of his voice is a disgusting as the rest of him and I have to force myself to keep quiet, to not tell him to go to hell. Those words are in my head when he touches me, sliding hand along my thigh, and I nearly jump out of my skin. My hands are locked together, twisting in my lap, to stop myself from pushing him away. I can feel myself shaking and have to reach up to brush away the tears that are starting to fall again.

The further we get from the city the more worried and frightened I become. The sound of the radio irritates me, too. Normal music for normal people, a few of the songs remind me of high school dances and dates with the nice boys from college and the bank where I work. There is nothing normal about what is happening to me now. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. My hands clench into fists and I want to beat at him, to grab the steering wheel and wrench it from his hands, to wreck the car and stop the fear and madness, but I stop myself. I’ll never find my sister that way and if I kill him, or us, they’ll kill Pam.

"Why not undo a button or two there, beautiful...you know, improve the scenery a little...? And lay your seat back some too...?"

The sickening sound of his voice drowns out the music for a moment making me physically ill. Tears are dripping off my chin as my trembling fingers obey his command. First one, then another button comes undone and my hand goes to the lever that controls the seat, letting it click twice into a more reclined position.

"Please don't hurt me. Please. What have we done to you? We never hurt you. I don't even know you so how could I make you want to hurt me?"

I'm reduced to begging and hate the weakness I feel but I'm terrified. Before I can stop myself I begin crying out loud, hiccupping over each sob that came out of me. Wrapping my arms around my stomach I turn away from him, trying to comfort myself, but scared to death of what he wants from me.