7.First Kitty

He says he is going to get me a kitty. I  have been telling

him how lonely I  am and how much I  love cats and all about

the ones I  used to have. I  am so excited I  can’t wait to have

a kitty to talk to. All I  do is lie here in this room all day long. I

am so bored. He doesn’t  leave  the cuffs on me anymore.

One day after he was done having sex with me, he said if I

promised to be good he would leave the cuffs off. He was

going to trust me because he didn’t want to put them back

on me; he wanted me to be more comfortable. I  thought of

many things I  could say, but none of them were polite, so I

just nodded. After he left and I  got cleaned up in the bucket

of water he left, I  thought about venturing into the other room

that is attached to the room that I  am in. I  made sure that I

could hear the lock on the outer door click closed before I

even  dared  to move,  then  I   sat  up  and  listened  to all  the

sounds  I   could  hear.  Sometimes  I   can  hear  him  coming

even before I  hear the lock. I  can hear a lot of things that I

never noticed before. I  listen to the outside a lot. I  hear the

train—the whistle and how it rolls on the tracks. I  can hear

someone mowing  the  grass.  I   can  hear  birds. And  I   can

hear  airplanes  overhead.  I   miss  being  outside.  I   am  so

bored just sitting in here. I  even miss brushing my teeth. Oh,

what  I  would  give  for  a  toothbrush!  I  will  never  forget  the

time my stepfather Carl grounded me  for not brushing my

teeth. He  believed  in  brushing  after  every meal.  I   admit  I

sometimes didn’t brush after every meal. One day my friend

Shawnee must  have  called  and  he  picked  up  the  phone

without telling me. She asked him if she and her dad could

take me with them to the movies. I  guess he said yes, and a

little  while  later  she  was  knocking  on  the  front  door.  I

answered the door and was surprised to see her because I

didn’t know she was coming; Carl didn’t tell me. She asked

if  I  was ready  to go  to  the movies; she assumed Carl had

told me about  the movie and  that  I  should get  ready. Carl

announced  I   couldn’t  go  because  I   didn’t  brush my  teeth

after breakfast. He said he had checked and the brush was

dry.  I  pleaded with him.  I  said  I  would go brush  them  right

now, I  said I  brushed them when I  woke up, I  added I  really

wanted  to go and  if  I  had known  I  would have brushed my

teeth.  But  he  refused  to  relent,  and  I   stayed  behind  with

tears running down my face as Shawnee and her dad went

off to the movies together. For some reason that day sticks

in my  head.  I ’m  thinking  about  it  because  I   don’t  have  a

toothbrush and I  know Carl would be really mad at me given

that I  haven’t brushed my teeth in weeks. I t would be funny

to see the look on his face if I  ever told him that. I  do try to

keep my  teeth  clean  by  using my  finger to  scrape  off  the

plaque. It’s amazing how much plaque actually builds up on

teeth,  especially  the  back  ones.  My  tongue  works  for

polishing,  too.  I  wonder  if  I  will ever be given a  toothbrush

again.

I   sleep a  lot  to pass  the  time.  I f  I  ever get  to go home

again, the first thing I  want to do is hug my mom and never

let go. The second  thing  I  can’t wait  for  is  to  run  free. My

legs are so cramped here. I  miss being able to run outside

with my friends. I f I  ever get to go home, I  would love to have

my  own  dog.  I f  I   ever  get  the  chance,  I  will  run  along  the

beach with my  faithful dog by my side.  I  will  take my dog

everywhere with me and never be alone again. We will take

long hikes together and he will run by my side as I  ride my

bike.

I   finally  rally my  courage  and  decide  to  check  out  the

other  room.  I  am very curious  to see what’s  in  there. As  I

creep  in,  it  is very dark. There are no windows  that  I  can

see. There  is a drum set and microphone stands and big

huge speakers throughout the room. Phillip told me that he

used  to  play  music  in  here  before  I   came.  Sometimes

Phillip brings his guitar in and plays music and sings to me.

Sometimes  I   feel  like  I’ve heard his songs before. Once  I

asked and he said he wrote all the songs himself. He thinks

he’s going  to have a big music career one day.  I  wonder.

He says he is very good. And someday he will be famous. I

know I ’m not supposed to, but I  try to push on the big door

that  leads  to  the  outside.  I t  is  solidly  locked. There  is  no

hope of escaping. I  don’t know what I  would have done if it

had actually opened. I  have no idea where I  am, and Phillip

says  that  the Dobermans are still patrolling the yard. I  fear

he will  find out  that  I   tried  to open  the door somehow. He

seems  to know everything.  I  don’t want  to get  in  trouble.  I

just want to go home.

I   tiptoe very quietly back  to my  room and  look around.  I

check out the strange equipment now that I  can get a close-

up view of them. I  asked Phillip what they were and he said

they were mixers  for mixing his music. He  said  they  cost

thousands of dollars, but his mother, Pat, bought  them  for

him for his music career. He said he can mix his own music

and he didn’t need someone else to do it for him. That way

it could be  just  the way he wanted  it  to sound.  I  had never

heard of a mixer before.

Before he  left  today he brought me a very small black-

and-white TV.  I t doesn’t get many  channels, but at  least  I

can  hear  people  talking.  At  night  it  gets  much  better

reception and I  watch the late shows. During the day it only

gets infomercials and QVC. Very boring, but I  seem to like

it more and more. Sometimes like today I  fall asleep to the

sound of some lady trying to sell me an opal necklace.

I  wake  up  the  next morning …  at  least  I   think  it  is  still

morning.  I   think  I   am  getting more  used  to  sensing what

time  it  is. Phillip usually comes  to see me  in  the morning

and  then  again  during  the  evening when  it  gets  dark.  I ’m

hoping he will bring me my new kitty today.

I  feel like I  haven’t eaten for a while. I  can finally go to the

bathroom anytime I  need to. He has left a bucket for me in

the  corner  covered  with  a  piece  of  wood.  I   feel  better

knowing  I   don’t  have  to  hold  it  in  until  he  comes.  I

sometimes  look out  the window.  I  have seen  the dogs he

talks about. Other than that, all I  see are fences and weeds.

I  wonder  if  there are any people nearby.  I  wonder where  I

am.

I  can hear him unlocking  the door. He  is coming. Now  I

can hear his  footsteps.  I  hope he hasn’t come  for sex. He

walks in and tells me to close my eyes. He says he has a

surprise for me. I  close my eyes and when I  open them I  see

my new kitty. I t looks like it is a couple months old and looks

half-grown already.  I   feel disappointed.  I  was hoping  for a

little  kitten,  but  I   do  not  want  him  to  see  that  I   am

disappointed. I  smile and act happy. I  am happy I  will have

company. The kitty meows and he hands  it  to me.  I  ask  if

it’s a boy or girl, and he says  it’s a girl. She  looks kind of

like a dark tiger. With stripes running down her back. I  pet

her, and he says he is going to go find a box for the litter. I

try  to  think  of  a  name  for  her  and  I   decide  on  Tigger—

bouncing  Tigger  from Winnie  the Pooh. Tigger  is  always

happy and never sad. My new Tigger starts to explore her

surroundings, and  I  sit back and watch her. Phillip comes

back with a litter box and food and water. Then he says that

he  has  to  go  and  take Nancy  to work.  I   have  asked  him

about the other person that was with him when he got me,

and he says that it was Nancy, his wife. At first he wouldn’t

tell me  and  would  just  say  it  was  just  some  person  that

wasn’t  around  anymore,  but  sometimes  I   can  hear  him

talking to someone outside, and I  kept wondering who that

was and he finally told me. I  wonder if I  will get to meet his

wife, Nancy. I  hope so. I  would really like to meet her. I  am

so lonely. Maybe one day she will come in and talk to me.

I  have plans  to  teach my new kitty  to come when  I  call

her. I  can’t wait to get started. He leaves and says he will be

back  later. Again,  I   hope  it’s  not  for  sex.  Sometimes  if  I

think really hard on something that I  don’t want to happen, it

doesn’t  happen.  It’s the  stuff  that  I   don’t  think  about  that

happens.  So  I   try  to  think  of  everything  that  he  could

possibly do so  it doesn’t happen. This  is my  theory, but  it

doesn’t  always work  because  he  always  comes  back  for

the sex. He says I  am helping him with his sex problem. He

says  that  instead  of  him  hurting  other  people  with  his

“problem,” he took me and brought me here so I  could help

him and he wouldn’t have to hurt anyone else ever again. I

think that sounds really weird, but I  also don’t want him to do

what he  is doing  to me  to someone else. So what choice

do I  have? I ’m hoping if he sees that I  am good and does

what he says that he will let me go home soon. When he is

not hurting me, he likes to make me laugh. He says he likes

it when I  smile. Right now it is hard to find a reason to smile,

but I  think it best to keep him happy.

I   think  I  have missed  the  field  trip  to  the water park by

now. I  wonder if it was fun. I  wonder what Shawnee is doing

right now. I  miss playing with her. And I  was going to send

my  best  friend  Jessie  a  letter  soon.  I  miss  her  so much.

Ever since I  moved to Tahoe I  never get to see her anymore

and  I  miss playing with her.  I  wonder  if  I  will ever see her

again.  I   wonder  if  anyone  is  looking  for  me.  I   can’t

remember a day since  “the day”  that  I  haven’t cried. Will  I

ever  again  have  a  day without  crying?  I  wonder what my

mom is doing right now.

He is coming to take my Tigger away. I  am so sad. He

says he can’t stand the smell when he comes in and the cat

is peeing everywhere in here. I  want to deny everything he

says, but I  can’t. I  don’t think this is a good environment for

Tigger. She wants  to get out and run and play. She is tired

of being in this room. I  think that’s why she is acting out and

peeing everywhere. I  have begun to feel guilty for asking for

her in the first place. I  should have thought about the place

we were going  to put her. This  is no place  for a kitty. He

says  his  aunt  is  an  animal  lover  and  will  take  her.  I   am

happy she will go to a happier place. But I  am still sad. I  will

be alone again. The time has come and he takes her away.

He  says  that maybe  one  day  I   can  see  her  again  and  I

shouldn’t cry about it.

Reflection

I t hurts to write about this part. This has turned out to be

a  very  hard  book  to  write.  Part  of me  does  not  want  to

continue. T o reenter  the state of mind  I  was at  that age  is

difficult and twists my insides. The more I  write, the harder it

becomes. On  the one hand,  I  want  to go on.  I   feel  that  if  I

don’t,  then  I   continue  to  protect my  kidnapper  and  rapist

and I  don’t have the need to do that any longer. On the other

hand,  this  is something  I  have worked hard  to put behind

me and to write about it in such detail years later is difficult.

T o get inside my head and relive all this stuff that happened

back then is terribly hard for me … I  want to go on and I  will

finish it …

Father’s Day, 2010

Yesterday was  Father’s Day  and  the man  that  I   have

been told is my father issued a statement in essence telling

me  to call him. He’s saying he’s dying of cancer.  I  did not

call. I  feel torn. I  do not know this man that is my father. I  do

not want to feel sorry for this man that has chosen not to be

a part of my life.

When  I  was nine,  I  became  curious as  to who my dad

was. I  would wonder if maybe he was a prince. That would

explain why  he  couldn’t  live with  us  because  of  his many

duties to his country, or maybe he was a navy ship captain

that died on a secret mission. I  wondered if he loved me. I

guess  around  the  time  my  sister  was  born,  I   started  to

notice other kids around me with dads and then there was

my  little sister with a dad  that doted on her, and  I  wanted

one, too. I  noticed my stepfather, Carl, treated my sister so

differently  than he had been  treating me.  I t made me  feel

unloved and unwanted.

I   remember asking my mom what my  real  dad’s  name

was and she  replied,  “His name  is Ken.” And  I   remember

smiling and said, “Like Barbie’s Ken?” I  asked if she had a

picture, but she didn’t. I  asked if he had ever seen me, and

she said that he had chosen not to. I  didn’t understand why

at the time. But it made me feel sad. After that I  didn’t bring

up the subject again. I  had my mom, who I  knew wanted me

and loved me, and I  wanted that to be enough.

The  next  time  I   remember  thinking  about  the man  that

fathered me was when I  was kidnapped. For a brief second

I   thought maybe  this was my  father who  took me.  I   know

now this was the farthest thing from the truth. I  even asked

Phillip  if  he  was  my  father  in  the  beginning  and  he

immediately said no.

Now as I  sit and write about these moments of my life, I

feel  confused. What  should  I   feel? What  should  I   think?  I

must answer these questions on my own now. For so long

decisions were made for me. This confusing topic was not

something I  had to think about in that backyard.

I  don’t want to have to make a decision on this issue right

now. I  want time to adjust and make a life for myself and my

family before  I  decide whether or not  I  want a  relationship

with my biological father. I  am still coming to terms with the

manipulation I  suffered at the hands of Phillip. I  don’t need

another man  issuing me ultimatums.  I  know what  I  want.  I

want more time to decide. I  want to be in charge of when I

feel  I ’m  ready  to meet  this  stranger  and  his  family. Even

though it has been almost a year from my captivity, I  don’t

feel  the  time  is  right.  I   am  through  with  living  with  other

people’s  demands  and  wants.  I   feel  guilt where  there

should be no guilt. I t was not me who chose not to see his

daughter when he had the chance. He could have made the

effort to come and visit for the first eleven years of my life.

He made the choice not to. He made that choice, and I  am

not condemning him for it. But by choosing to not be a part

of my life back then; now I  am an adult and I  get to choose if

and when I  want to see him.

I  have not had many positive male role models in my life.

Since my release I  have been introduced to some amazing

fathers. I  finally see with my own eyes what a father truly is

and what  it means  to each of  them.  I  see what good men

are supposed to act like. Although each father is unique in

his own way,  they all have one  thing  in common—genuine

love for their children. I  met a dad that has part-time custody

of  his  son. Although  he  does  not  see  his  son  24/7,  their

bond  is deep and binding. You can see  it by  the way  they

interact and  talk  to each other. He never claims  to be  the

perfect dad, but he strives to be better than the dad he had.

He wants  to  be  in  his  son’s  life  through  good  times  and

bad. In my mind this makes him a super dad. He reminds

me of my mom in a lot of ways. Another dad I  have met is a

stepfather.  My  experience  with  stepfathers  wasn’t  the

greatest.  In my mind a stepparent never  loves  the stepkid

as much  as  their  own.  I   guess  I   think  this way  because  I

never  felt  loved or accepted by my  stepfather. Now  I   see

there  are many  forms  of  love  and  a  stepparent  can  love

their  kids  and  the  stepkids  differently  but  still  love  and

accept  them.  Although  some  stepparents  and  stepkids

might not see eye-to-eye on some things, they can still have

genuine  affection  for  one  another.  I   have  never  seen  this

stepfather making fun of his stepkids like Carl used to do to

me. Shayna was his daughter;  there was no doubt about

that. He was very proud to have a daughter of his own. I t left

me feeling in the way. Perhaps this added to my sense of

loneliness that I  feel I  have carried around for a long time.

I  don’t  know why my  biological  father made  the  choice

not to see me. I  might never know the answer. I  know now

that he has two families, and I  wonder if he takes the time to

appreciate  them.  I   know  he  must  feel  badly  about  what

happened to me, but it was not his fault and could not have

been prevented. Well, maybe it could have been prevented

by  some  law  changes  and  more  supervision  for  sex

offenders by  the government, but  that’s hindsight. No one

could  have  foreseen  what  would  happen  to  me  or  ever

thought it was possible in that small T ahoe community. The

fact  is  it  happened.  I t’s  over  now.  I   do  not  live  my  life

constantly wishing that I  could change the past. I  am thankful

to be alive.  I  am  thankful  for my daughters.  I  am  thankful  I

have an incredibly strong mom who never gave up on me. I

am  thankful  for my beautiful, bright  sister and  loving aunt.

And  I  am  thankful  for  the countless others  I  have come  to

know since my rescue. Genes, I  have learned, do not make

a family. Families are the people that stick around through

good and bad  times. Sadness  is part of  life. Choosing  to

be happy and see the glass half full is a struggle we all must

make. At  this point  I  don’t  know what  the  future holds  for

me.  I   am  enjoying  what  freedom  I   have  and  discovering

things about myself I  never knew. Will I  choose to meet my

biological father one day? I  don’t know the answer to that. I

know for now I  am not ready, and if that’s too hard for him to

understand, then that’s too bad for him because I  think I  just

might be worth waiting for.