He told me it would be okay. That was before my parents went missing and I hit my head. I am in fourth grade. I never misbehaved, so why did this happen? Where are my parents? Where am I? Who is this man?
    Olivia had just turned ten. She was a 'big girl' and her house was a five-minute walk away, her parents said she could walk home. All of her friends walked home. When the day finally came, the day after her birthday, she was very excited. She knew that it was only a walk home and that kids walked home every day but that didn't matter to her. Walking home was the last thing she needed to be a 'big girl' like her sister who was fourteen. Her sister was on a school trip to California, while Olivia lived in Missouri. Both of her parents stayed home that day. Olivia couldn't wait to walk through her front door and see her parents smiles. She was at school. It was 2:59, 1 minute left of school. That's when everything started to go wrong.
    It’s dark, so dark I can’t even see my hand if I wave it in front of my face. The strange man left, I can still feel his rough hand on my mouth. I had wanted to scream, I tried but he said that if I screamed something bad would happen to my parents. I don't know if he even knows where my parents are but I don't want to take the chance. There isn't much room in this place. I think that I'm in a cupboard but it’s locked and it’s so cramped that I can’t move my legs. That's saying something, I'm the shortest girl in my class.
    She took out her new phone, it was a flip phone. She didn't know a single person who owned a flip phone, but that didn't matter to her. IT WAS A PHONE! She always wanted a phone, even when she was two but she only wanted one when she was two so that she could chew on it. She called her dad, she had to tell him that she was going home. He didn't answer. She called her mom, she didn't answer. She called the home phone, no one picked up. Olivia started to get worried. She started to walk. Slow at first but then she went faster and faster until she was running. Her house was in sight, it looked like everything was fine. Everything was not fine.
    "HELP ME!" I want to shout but I know no one will hear me. More and more questions are forming in my head. Are my parents hurt? Is my sister okay? Why did this happen? What did I do? What did my family do? I hear a noise. Pit...pat...pit...pat. Footsteps. Someone is coming. I do not dare to scream for it could be the man. I hear a clicking sound, the sound of a lock turning. A door starts to open. I raise my hand toward the door. I reach for the light, I almost touch it but then everything turns dark.    
She pushed open the door. A musty smell wafted towards her. Her white curtains had red spots on them. The chairs in the dining room were flipped over. A sharp object was lying on the ground. She ventured up the stairs. Glass covered the carpeted steps. Cool air blew through the window. The only sound was her footsteps. Pit...Pat...Pit...Pat. She walked into her room and closed the door. A gust of wind from the open window blew into her face.
    She didn't open the window.
She sat down on her bed, the sheets ripped off, her bed bare. The house became very still. Her breath started to calm. Woosh... The door to her room was thrown open. A dark figure walked in. The lights were off. He came closer. She tried to back away but he grabbed her. His hand went over her mouth and he covered her eyes. Olivia bit his hand. He dragged her down the stairs. Her vision faded to black.
    I can see.  I CAN SEE! I can see... my parents, lying on the ground. I try to go to them but there are ropes on my ankles. There are ropes on theirs too. I try to scream. There is a rag in my mouth. I am sitting in a cold, gray room. The floor is made of stone. The only light is coming from the windows near the ceiling. A steep set of stairs leads to a door. Leafless branches make up a tall tree. We are underground. My stomach rumbles. I haven't eaten anything since lunch, yesterday. Or was it today? It feels like a million years ago.                              
    She groggily opened her eyes to see darkness. It felt as if she had been dropped or dragged. Where was she? She tried to stand up but she quickly hit her head. The ceiling did not allow her to sit straight, let alone stand. She started to scream but a hand covered her mouth. It smelled like dirt. Suddenly she remembered her parents. Did this person take them? For a brief moment she saw her kidnapper. A scar ran across his left cheek.
    A man came in. It was the same man who had taken me. I tried to get a better look at him but a hood covered his eyes. His black sweatshirt was stained with white powder. It looked familiar, very familiar.
A faint ringing sound filled my ears. I wasn’t the only one who heard it. The man quickly turned around and walked up the stairs, shutting the door. I quickly looked around the bare room, my eyes stopping on a rusty nail. I can reach it. I reached my arm out, it grazed the cold nail. I tried once again, moving my body towards it. My fingers curled around the sharp nail.
Pit...Pat...Pit...Pat. His footsteps reverberated around the room. He is coming down the stairs. They creaked under his weight. I quickly put the nail behind my back. He threw me a loaf of bread. It landed with a thump before my feet. The bread is stale. It is so hard that I cannot eat it. My parents began to wake up from the noise. Their faces bruised, red dots sprinkled their  blonde hair. My mother looked at the man. Recognition crossed her face.
“What are you doing here R-” she began to say. Her eyelids started to flutter and she fell back into unconsciousness. Does she know this man? A scary thought hit me. My brothers name began with an ‘R’. I quickly pushed it away. I’m being silly. There is no time for that now. My father looked at me.
“Olivia are you okay?” he asked worriedly. I opened my mouth to speak.
“BE QUIET!” the man shouted, his voice echoing on the walls. He threw another loaf of bread at my father and began to leave, his footsteps fading away. I picked up the nail again. My father looked at the nail in my hand and then at the ropes binding us to the ground. He nodded.
I began to cut the rope. The sharp edge of the nail cutting little strings apart. My arm began to ache. I kept cutting. After what felt like hours the rope crumbled away from my ankle. I got up but fell right away. I stood up again and hobbled over to my dad, the nail still in my hand. He took the nail from my hand and began to cut at his own rope. Pit...Pat...Pit...Pat. He was coming again. His black sweatshirt came into view. He looked over to where I was and then to where I am now. My dad said one word.

“GO!”

I ran. My sudden burst of energy caught the man off guard. I ran right past him and to the door, pulling it open. We were in my neighborhood. My street. I could faintly see our house, the light from the Sun, blinding me temporarily. I ran over to Mrs. Thompson’s house. The man was right behind me. I ran up her steps and I pushed her door open. The man saw that he would not catch me and ran back to his house. He lived on our street. Why us? Mrs.Thompson came over to me, taking in my stained clothes, bloody hands, and messy hair.
“What’s wrong honey?” she asked.
“Call the police!” I shouted, my heart beating fast, panic in my voice.

A WEEK LATER…

I straightened the mirror in my pink room. My pink door, bright against the pale brown color of the hallway. My kitten sleeping on my bed. It took us a week to fix our house, cleaning it, and replacing the broken objects. I threw my white shirt away, the small stains of blood wouldn’t wash off. The police never found the man. They do not know who that house belonged to, it was never purchased. At least my brother is safe. Luckily my brother is in college. He is coming home today.
The doorbell rang. I shivered remembering the black sweatshirt. The feeling went away as quickly as it had come. I bounded down the stairs, my sister right behind me, and pulled open the door.

My brother came home. A scar ran across his left cheek.