Emerson Russell, Grade 5
The letter was only the start. My parents had only recently died and my sister and I had been stranded at home with no food or money. One day we received a letter from our Pop that had said, “Meet me at the west side car park at the shopping village and I will take you to lunch and back home to live with me.” So my sister and I decided to go to the village. The next day we headed off to the shopping center to see our Pop with our battered suitcases and bags.
As we arrived we could not see our Pop so we waited for what seemed like an eternity. However a car drove up, screeched to a halt and snatched then forcibly pushed us into the vehicle before speeding away. Eventually we arrived at an old, black scary house and were rushed inside where no one could see us. He then started to slap and kick us, a torture that was to become a ritual.
After a few years of entrapment we grew into young adults. My sister was 20 and I was 18. One day my sister had been very rude to the very nasty old man, so he decided to stab her to death.
I was balling my eyes out with anger and I managed to kick him over but unfortunately I had done no damage to him. He proceeded to stab me repeatedly until I fell over and became dizzy from blood loss.
That night I ran away and luckily realized exactly where we were. With anxiety I ran straight to the hospital about 3 kilometers up the road. I burst into the hospital emergency room puffing my heart out with relief although I had very major stab wound. A doctor yelled, “Emergency!” and medical staff hurried me directly to surgery to repair my injured body with sutures.
Time has now passed and I have recovered physically. I have a wonderful life with my husband and beautiful daughter Maryrose, although I still seek revenge on my horrific kidnapper.