The Captive

Chapter One: The Abduction of Gibbles

The school counsellor, Ms. Daniels, asks me the typical questions. Excited for graduation? Any plans next year? Have you made any friends? I know it’s hard, but it’s worth a shot.

I have no clue how to respond. I say I’m relieved it’s almost over.

Roseview is slowly returning to normality. The paranoia has died down since they found Rachel Evans. She went missing for a whole month. According to news reports, she couldn’t recall for how long she’d been gone. She couldn’t even recall how it happened.Everyone came up with outlandish theories about how she'd gone off the grid. Meanwhile, all I cared about was getting through senior year. Survival of the fittest, as they say. Loners are the weakest in the food chain, but we’ve learned to manage in our designated hideouts.

My hideout’s behind track field near the janitor’s shed. No one likes coming here but to me it's the best place in Roseview High. It’s not as bad as it looks. A while back, some environmental science nerds planted a garden here, but once they graduated, it all went haywire. Overgrown weeds, litter everywhere. Luckily, I came to the rescue. It’s kinda rewarding seeing something new sprout from the ground. Something alive. Flowers are like friends. I don't exactly consider myself a Mrs. Greenthumb, but I’d say I’ve had a couple of wins. I made an inventory of all the things I’ve grown: lilies, irises, lavender tweedies, sunflowers, hyacinths, begonias, and a whole bunch of other plants that never grew here until I came along. 

I was wary dangerous things grew here, too. The poison ivy and occasional death caps were ones to watch out for. New visitors don't know this so I hide in my usual spot—on high alert from the top of the good ol' oak tree. 

From the trunk, I could also see Alex and his friends skate behind the bleachers. He's caught me staring a few times, but never says anything. Alex has a scar on his lip--typical bad bay. He’s a total babe but doesn’t seem like the kissy type. I like this about him.

“Trixie!” Mr. Michaels calls from his shed. “What a pleasure to see you!”

“It's been a while!” 

“I’m gonna miss ya, kiddo. It really won’t be the same without you. Mmh, which reminds me, can you keep an eye out for Gibbles? It’s been a while since I’ve seen the bastard.” Gibbles used to be an alley cat. He’s got a messed-up eye. Probably from his former owner.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Thanks Trix. Holler at me if you need anything.”

All the kids ignore Mr. Michaels, but he’s the coolest person I know. Sometimes, he lends me the keys to the school library. When I’m done with my day’s job, I go there to look up books on plants or fritter time away by reading manga.

The garden is flourishing. I even grew a small pumpkin patch. They’re small pumpkins, but it’s quite exciting to watch 'em sprout. I picked one off today. It was sweet, perfect for pumpkin pie. I bring out the gardening tools—my flowering pot, the trowels and shovels, and notice that a few tools missing. Mr. Michaels misplaces things—he’s getting old. He does the gardening, but it’s a tedious task for him. I volunteered to give him a hand since I enjoy the garden and I get to play with Gibbles. Otherwise I'd be the lonely creep that watches people from a tree.

I lay out a trail of kibble to lure Gibbles back home, starting from the shed to the garden. I’m proud of the pumpkin patch I made. I take a closer look at the fruits of my labor, and notice what looks to be a hollow spot on the side of one of the pumpkins. Darned pests. But I re-inspect the hole. I notice the mold. A maggot leaps out onto the palm of my hand. “Euugh! What the HELL is that?!” I toss the pumpkin and shake the maggot off. I pass the garden until I reach the barbed wire.

I survey what’s in view behind the bushes. Behind the fence, a hill sloping down behind an expanse of pines. Barely visible, I see the red glimmer of the setting sun. I wonder if anyone’s ditched here before.

I check my watch and it’s past five. Grrruuugh! I’m getting hungry. Perhaps I should head out. Then, I hear it.

Scriitch, scriitch.

“Gibbles?”

I bend down and notice a hole in the corrugated fence. I see a small shadow under the darkness of the pines. Eyes glittering, tail swaying.

“There you are, ya little runt! Get over here—you have Mr. Michael’s worried sick!”

The shadow of Gibbles gets bigger as he saunters over just a few inches. Then, he stops. His tail rests behind its legs.

“MeeEEoooowWWWW!”

I get closer. Why does it sound human? For a moment, I hold my breathe, afraid and stupefied, unsure of what to do next. I hesitate before reaching under the hole. Then, I see it all happen in a FLASH. The muddy hand grapples through the hole and I tumble down into complete darkness...

***A few hours later..

I’m slowly recovering my senses. Must have knocked out for a long time. I reach for my pocket. My phone’s inside--it's dead. I feel a bit woozy. I feel my forehead. It’s bleeding. Darn. I hope it’s not a concussion. I scan my surroundings and notice the hill where I tumbled. It’s steep but I’m sure I could climb it if I’m real careful. 

To my left, I see some trees and a bridge. I continue walking...