Kidnapped

Kidnapped (Reflections of 1987)

The night I was kidnapped was months in the making.

Though it wasn’t planned out at all.

His mania over took him that night.

Pulled the phone from the wall, wires and all.

Paced the floors,

Jealousy, unwarranted.

Tied the door closed with rope and wood, to sleep tight…

Followed by more pacing.

It’s a weird word, kidnapping.

I was neither a kid or napping.

Woken up in with a start,

Heart racing…jerked to standing.

“Come on, I can’t stay here” He said.

And he meant it.

He drove my truck,

100 miles an hour, to…I didn’t know where…

A knife stuck vertically in the dashboard, for added effect.

Was effective.

Suddenly we were twenty-two towns away.

Somehow my landline became part of the road side trash one passes along any US highway.

The stuff that makes you wonder how regular house hold items make it out on to the middle of a highways divide.

A lot happens under the covers of darkness.

He said nothing…he didn’t have too.

The distance somehow made his mind calmer.

Holed up in a hotel, one would call seedy

A smell, of what I now know to be, crack cocaine, emanated as a stench from under the bathroom door,

Like an evil hiss, in a bad Disney movie, when the villain has visibly bad breath.

This was not the princess story I’d imagined…

On the bed, frozen…waiting for this all to pass.

This was his territory…I was just along for the epic ride.

I wasn’t his first or last…love, shall we call it?

Like every love story, it had to end.

March 2024