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The Birth of My Death

by Layla Nelson 11 months ago in Horror
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My Story of Rebirth

I was on a bus , on a warm Saturday. I was with my aunt and my grandma. I was going to dance rehearsals and I was to meet them at noon so we could eat at the mall. Most Saturdays were like this. And I loved it. So, I got off the bus, kissed them goodbye. And that was the last time they seen that version of me . I went to dance class. One of the last moments I felt like I was something special for a very long time . I danced and I loved it as if it loved me too . When rehearsals were over ,I was excited to go eat and spend time with my family. I was a pretty happy girl. I had a great family and I was in love with one of the greatest song writers of all time. I just knew that one day he would write a song about me and he would watch me dance. Only, that girl didn't make it. That girl, with her big heart and her ridiculous confidence stepped out into the real world and it ate her up. With my cd Walkman playing the love of my life's music, I got stopped while getting ready to cross the street. I stopped the music. A man in a black BMW and a grey suit stopped me, talking and waving for me to come nearer. I wasn’t sure though so he pulled over into a parking spot .He was handsome. I was about to turn 16 but I was still very shy when it came to the opposite sex . I remember looking down at the cobblestone pavement I was standing on. He kept talking and I realized he was asking for help. Directions to a grocery store. I was terrible at directions . Still am to this day. I knew where one was but I didn't know how to tell him to get there. There was another man and a woman in the back. They were from out of town the driver explained. He invited me into the car and if I could just show him where to drop his friend off, he'd bring me right back. Please stop screaming “ no” to me, it isn't any use. I was very naïve and I'm screaming “no” inside my head as I am rereading this.

There was a woman in the back and they looked so well put together. I thought it must be safe. I got in. I was nervous, but I wanted to help. I always wanted to help. I pointed for him to go straight. I felt very uneasy at the stoplight. But I stayed. I could have jumped out. I could have saved the girl I lost. But I didn't open the door. And when I started telling him which way to go, he took another way. And my door locked and I tried to brace myself against the seat, as if I was on a roller coaster or a ride that you're afraid of. For some reason I started thinking of what my uncle had taught me about the 12 Days of Christmas sing. A partridge in a pear tree represented Christ to the Roman Catholics who were not allowed to practice their religion long ago. I tried to remember the other meanings of the rest of the song. I tried to take my mind off of what was going on. The woman was talking very sweet to me. I don't know what she said. I kept staring at the man in the passenger seat and over at the driver. I don't think I even spoke but in my mind I was asking him “ Why?” They took me in a car garage, to the second floor. I seen many cars. I was looking for people. He parked. And they talked. He went up to the third floor and parked. I felt my world getting smaller and smaller, like a flame that is slowly dying down before it burns out completely. . I did put up a fight some. But I did not have the power. The woman got out and the driver was in the back with me. I fought him. He would not stop. He covered my mouth. I could hear my voice but I could not understand anything. It hurt. Would they kill me afterwards ? Yes, I was sure of it. I blacked out after I accepted I could not move and I was going to have to deal with what was happening and what was going to happen after they were finished with me. I remember him getting up and pulling his pants up and the other man getting out of the front of the car getting on top of me. I went away. On purpose. I had to.

When I came to, I was alone. There was blood. My spandex pants were gone. And my shoes. There was my gym bag. I looked and no one was in the car. No one was around. I opened my gym bag and put on a pair of shorts I had brought with me. I got out of the car. I felt like a spirit trying to figure out if it was dead or not. I got out and remember taking a deep breath. Things looked blurry. But I ran. I heard voices and I think it was a guard but I just couldn't stop running. I ran out of the garage. Out onto the city streets. I didn't know if I was alive. I needed to see someone I knew in order to know. I ran to the mall. I could not find my family. I begged someone for 25 cents. I tried to call home. Nothing. I went up to the third floor of the mall, where the restaurants were. I still couldn't see that well so I yelled for them. I knew people were looking. I ran to the bathroom and there was my grandma. My aunt went to see if she could find me. I stood crying in her arms. I told her and we met the police outside, who took me to the hospital. The car was gone when they went there but they did have footage. And they seem the footprints my first few footprints, in blood, right where I’d got out and ran. I had to have an examination. I had to answer a lot of questions. I don't remember much because I wanted to go home, where I would be safe. In my bed. On the couch. I just wanted to go home. I was terrified. And I stayed that way for so long. On the couch. Trying to bury myself in a movie . Sometimes afraid to look away from the screen because the fear would take over again. Up for hours. I had to find things, such as drawing, to immerse my mind in. I had severe panic attacks. I had to tell myself it was okay and it'll be okay. I couldn't eat. I couldn't dance. I couldn't go back to school. I couldn't go out. Just going out on the porch, on the second floor, made me sick. Christmas was horrible. It felt like a nightmare. By Spring I was able to go to therapy but that didn't last . I was in denial of what happened. School was sometimes too much and I had to learn from home. It was very much a struggle to retain anything and I went from A’s to F's . I was not able to finish. I ended up getting my GED a couple years later when I could focus . I had outstanding results but I still feel bad they I did not graduate. I had such high hopes for myself. It took so long to heal and still yet, I'm healing. One man, the driver was found and served time. He is a registered sex offender .Twenty two years altogether he served .And not just for what he'd done to me unfortunately. The other man and the woman were never found. Every day I have to decide if I'm going to let my past dictate my day. And some days it hardly does. But always in the back of my mind I think “What if I see them?” I could see any of them. And I know nothing would happen. But the damage is there. I no longer refer or call myself a victim. I'm a survivor. Of many things. A lot of us are. And work each brave, courageous moment, we get a little further away from the cage that we built for ourselves. We remove the chains and it feels good. Little by little.

One day though, I'll feel totally free. And hopefully I'm still alive to feel it.


About the author

Layla Nelson

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