Wednesday, October 27, 2010



I tensed, waiting. Then the door was flung wide.

The next several minutes were the most horrific in my short life. The enormous phantoms were now real. How had they come into the room without me actually seeing them make their entrance? Now they were crowded around me. What the hell was going on?

One had me by the throat. I could not breathe. Another held my legs…I was fighting for my life. The wind howled malevolently and lightening flashed blindingly. The thunder was explosive. The Goliaths’ offensive that accompanied this show was ferocious.

I was kicking and hitting and trying to scream. I wrestled and rolled, bumping into things that poked my arms & legs. How could this be? I had just searched this room for something to use as a weapon and found nothing. Now there was stuff poking me in the behind. I didn’t understand it. I felt as if I was a character in an episode of The Twilight Zone.

My movements were becoming more and more restricted. My struggle was flagging. I wondered if I was going to die. I wondered what it would be like to be buried. Would many people attend my funeral? Would many people cry for me? What type of headstone would be placed on my grave? “So you are just going to give up?” I asked myself. “Hell no!” I answered back.

I renewed my wriggling silently, seemingly futilely, refusing to give in to my attackers. I intended to resist until there was no breath left in me. It was a valiant but vain attempt; all of my air was almost gone. I could not fight much longer. I saw black dots before my eyes in the strobing lights which continued to flash. I was fading fast.

Jill threw open the door and switched the light on. “Bliss, Bliss, are you awake?”

“Help me! Help me!” I whispered hoarsely.

“What? What did you say?”

“Bliss, Bliss, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

She followed my voice, suddenly noticing me on the floor, she rushed to me. “What are you doing down there? C’mon, let me help you back to bed. Whoa! Let’s get this off. What were you trying to do, kill yourself? It’s wrapped so tight. You know you almost strangled yourself with this scarf you had around your neck? How did you get the sheets wrapped so tightly ‘round you? What happened?”

Don’t know… was fighting … kicking…” I croaked.

I could breathe now that Jill had taken the scarf off; things were now swimming back into focus. I looked at Jill in shock. She had on her usual night attire which was a t-shirt. I glanced at my now bare legs; I was also clad in a t-shirt.

“What or who were you fighting? What were you kicking? Didn’t you hear the storm? It woke me up. Why didn’t you close the window? It’s getting wet in here.”

All that noise was just a storm? We had not been under attack by monsters? What was wrong with me? Was I losing my mind? My brow knitted in puzzlement as Jill helped me off the floor and back to the bed.

“Let me close this window before all the rain blows in and drenches the whole place.”

I listened to her chatter on. Was she serious? Was I at home in my room? Had I been here all along? Could this all have been a dream? But it was so real! Mind you, I would be relieved beyond words if this was really a dream. But a voice in my head kept saying … it’s not a dream! It’s not a dream!

“I guess I must have had a dream,” I said uncertainly. “But it was so real – horrible, but real… we were fighting for our lives. You would not believe…you had to be there to understand… but wait, you were there.”

“That’s the nature of dreams girl… they seem so real.”

“But this one was more so…” I shook my head in bafflement and gratitude. I was conflicted. Even though I was still trying to understand what had happened, I was ecstatic that it seemed we had so lucked out.

“So what was this dream about that has caused you to be so freaked out?”

“We were kidnapped from the club...” I told her everything about our kidnapping, Sam and Greg, waking up from our drugged state, finding each other, even the umbrella.

“Wow! That was some dream. You should write a book about it, you could make a ton of money. It sounds scary enough that people would really get into it.

“Yeah Right!”

“It could happen, it fact it did happen. That’s how it went down in the case of those Twilight books. The author, Stephanie Meyer, was inspired to write the first book because of a dream. And look how that turned out.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a dream.” I said in a small voice. She looked at me as if I had four heads.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it really happened.”

“Huh? How? Are you listening to yourself?”

I shrugged.

“Why would some guys kidnap us from the club, take us to some building, and then bring us home again? How would they even know where we live?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous but- “

“Why would they do that? And how come I don’t remember any of this if I was there?” I shrugged again.

“We were at work yesterday right?” I nodded reluctantly. “When I came home you were already in bed. Remember you said you thought you were coming down with something? And you had that scarf wrapped around your neck because you said your throat hurt and you wanted to keep it warm -”

“But later I felt better and we decided to go to the club.” I interjected. “Remember we wore our skinny jeans, & I wore that new jeans jacket I just got? Remember those two obnoxious guys Sam & Greg? You were there, we were hanging out. Don’t you remember?”

Jill shook her head slowly as she looked at me, concern filling her eyes. “What are you talking about? Yesterday was dress-down day at work because it was Friday, so we wore jeans to work. Don’t you remember?”

I decided to start treating all Jill’s questions as rhetorical. So I did not respond. I just cut my eyes at her. She didn’t seem to notice, if she did, she didn’t react to my display of irritation. She was talking to me as if I were a child or had taken leave of my senses. Perhaps I had, but I stubbornly pushed forward with my argument.

“As I was saying,” I said slowly, giving her a taste of her own medicine and speaking to her as if all of her faculties had fled. “I wore my jeans jacket to the club.”

I rose as I spoke, going towards the chair on which was thrown said jacket. I put my hand in the pocket and it closed around my prize... my proof that it was not a dream. I brought it forth, opening my hand. The strange looking gun gleamed on my open palm.

Jill looked at me dumbstruck. Her eyes went from my hand to my face and then back again. It would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so scary. Then she asked in a trembling voice.

“Is that a gun? What the hell are you doing with a gun? Where did you get it? Why does it look so peculiar?”

“You tell me!” I said quietly.


- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

- sponsored by Willow at

Wednesday, October 20, 2010


Fallen mirror
Fresh perspective
Different strategy
New outcome

Oh happy day!
Thank you fallen mirror
Without you
I would be stuck in…
Same old…same old.

- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

- sponsored by Willow at

Friday, October 15, 2010


I closed the door and stepped away from it, but it stubbornly squeaked open again. Turning back to it, I could suddenly feel a breeze behind me. Looking towards its source, l saw the partly open drapes move. Was that an open window?

Could I dare to hope that this room was on the second or even the third floor so we would have easy access to the ground? Even if we were higher, perhaps there was a tree we could jump into and from there we could climb to the ground.

As I quickly walked to the drapes, my mind was assaulted by these questions and ponderings. My nose was under siege by the smells of trees and sap and grass and flowers – roses. Aahhh! Sweet, wonderful smelling roses! The smell of freedom!

My foot kicked something. I glanced down, momentarily distracted from my quest. It was the gun. Following the path it made on the dusty floor, I picked it up from where it had spun.

It was a strange looking piece, with stranger markings on it. But then what did I know of guns. I walked back to Jill with it, intending to point out the odd markings to her, but she was having none of it.

“Put it away! Put it away!” She said almost hysterically. I knew she had a deathly fear of guns because when they were children one of her cousins had accidentally killed his brother while playing with their father’s gun. She had been present and saw that awful incident. And all these years later, still was not entirely over it. So I resisted my urge to ignore her request and argue with her. Instead, I put the gun carefully in a deep pocket of my jeans jacket.

Then I heard something. “Sshh! Sshh!” I said putting a finger to my lips.

“What? What?” Jill whispered.

“Don’t you hear it?” She shook her head mutely, eyes wide. “Listen!”

“Yes! Yes! I hear it. What is it?”

I quickly put some duct tape over our trussed up detainee’s mouth and we laboriously dragged him out of line of sight from the door and into a dark corner. Then creeping silently back to the door, we put our eyes to the crack. There were shadows moving on the wall – huge shadows.

My heart beat fast and faster still. Had we been discovered again already? Were we never to get a break? How had we displeased God to find ourselves in this predicament? Was this our punishment? What had we done to deserve this? And who or what were those giants coming to get us? My heartbeat ratcheted up another notch; it did not feel as if it would stay much longer in my chest. Perhaps, it would burst forth shortly taking a major portion of my chest wall with it.

I signaled Jill to go back to her hiding place behind the door. She attempted to pick up her trusty umbrella, but I grabbed it first. For a couple of seconds we silently vied for this prize.

“Get your own!” She said annoyed as she finally wrest it from my grasp.

I took up my position on the other side of the door. In my hand I held what was left of the roll of duct tape. Talk about irony. Before I had almost laughed at her umbrella defense, now here I was fighting her for it. Not having been successful, I was now armed with this pathetic excuse for a weapon. I looked around desperately hoping to find something that could really do some damage. Nothing. I cursed under my breath.

I could hear them breathing right on the other side of that door. I could smell their sweat. The door squeaked open, inch by slow inch. I tensed, waiting. Then the door was flung wide.

- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

- sponsored by Willow at

Thursday, October 7, 2010


Blazing, brilliant, autumn leaves
How I love your warm bright, colors
Shades of yellow, orange, red
Speckled green, brown, almost black
Fall like rain from branches lighter
Leave their clothes of leaves below
Trees get ready for winter sleep

Now trees, whisper, tell us
Did you miss them?
As they fell to ground below
Did you wish them bon voyage?
As they fell from off your branches?
Did you kiss them each one slowly?
Lovingly bid them a safe journey?

Autumn leaves, always leaving
Every year it is the same thing
I will miss you, miss your glory
Miss your colors, miss your story

Ah, but soon will come the winter
Freezing, white, uncaring, winter
Come to spend some time here with us
Making me forget my autumn

I will once again turn inward
Draw upon my patient nature
Grin and bear the sting of winter
Look to warm and happy spring
Ease into the heat of summer
Until once again
My autumn colors will return
Making me rejoice and shout
Welcome autumn!
You're back!
I missed you!

- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

- sponsored by Willow at

Thursday, September 30, 2010




After much trial and error, I was able to pick the lock with my make-shift wire key. With tremendous relief, I opened the door and looking cautiously right and left, I stepped out into a corridor that was lit intermittently by naked light bulbs. Closing the door noiselessly behind me, I stood still. I listened intently for some seconds. Nothing. Quickly and silently, I proceeded down the passage which stretched ahead of me. I picked up my pace. Then I was running, running, ahead of me lay a flight of stairs.

Should I go up or down? I skidded to a stop undecided. “Down! Down! Go Down!” I said urgently, quietly. My footsteps echoed off the walls of the stairwell as I sped fleet of foot. I was so scared, I couldn’t think straight, I could only move, and this I did as fast as I could.

Of course my inability to think could have had something to do with the fact that my body was flooded with a good deal of adrenalin. I was fully in flight or fight mode, and since there was no one to fight, I had to flee. My breathing was becoming labored and sweat poured off me, it got in my eyes stinging me. I got a stitch in my side. I wanted to slow down. But I couldn’t …I dare not. I almost pitched forward and grabbed onto the rail for dear life. This stopped me in my tracks. Dear God! Help me please!

My hands held the banister so tightly, my fingers seemed hooked into claws of iron, and I wondered how I would ever pry them loose. Compelled by necessity to stop in this manner, I bent double, panting heavily. I wanted to sit down and take a rest, but my legs wouldn’t bend. They shook so powerfully from the forced activity and the mega amounts of adrenalin still coursing through my body; I just leaned against the wall trembling and breathing hard.

Then I heard footsteps running in my direction. Taking one last deep breath, I was off again. I jumped over the last three steps at the foot of the stairs and dashed into a room whose door stood slightly ajar.


I had not been crawling in the vent for very long, when I saw a light up ahead. The light was coming from the room below. I slowly and carefully crept to the slits in the vent cover and looked down into the room. Bliss was not there. But she had been, I could smell her cologne. Had they moved her, or had she escaped like I had.

I was happy that our captors didn’t seem to have a very good handle on keeping us captive. I moved on, and kept going. I hoped and prayed that Bliss and I would hook-up soon. Then I heard running, but the sound was not smooth … more like someone moving quickly on steps. Throwing caution to the winds, I hastily wriggled to the next vent opening and looked down into that space.

Bliss was propelled into the room as if shoved by half a dozen hands.

“Thank you Jesus! I found her! I found her! My relief was so great I almost shouted her name, but mindful of our precarious situation, I whispered, “Bliss, Bliss, up here!”

She stood uncertainly for seconds rocking slightly, as if the momentum of her entrance was not yet quite over. Her eyes were wide with fright, her breathing heavy as she looked around wildly. But she didn’t look up. I assumed she hadn’t heard me. What was she looking for? I decided not to speak again, because I suddenly realized she was looking around for something with which to defend herself... from someone or something I had not yet seen.

I guess she was successful in her quest. Because, just as I heard what she was running from, she picked up an umbrella from off the floor and standing behind the door, held it at the ready. I almost laughed out loud. What was she going to do with it, shield her attacker to death, or hypnotize him with the colors?

If the umbrella had been a big, black, hefty number, at least it would have looked as if it could do some damage. Instead, it was dainty, and yellow with white stripes. I would have giggled, if our situation wasn’t so dire.

Bliss stepped further back into her hiding space and stumbled. We both looked to see the cause of her misstep. It was an old hurricane lamp. I smiled. The sight of it immediately brought back some of my most treasured childhood memories. My grandmother had one of these lamps in her house. She would light it, and put in the window sometimes. It always gave off a wonderfully welcome glow. It always made me feel warm and protected.

I shook myself mentally, wondering why I had been transported to such a visceral recollection. Then I understood, the night’s events had so traumatized me, I was using the excuse of the lamp to go to a safe, cozy place, far away from my present circumstance, even if it was just for a little while. I resolved to let go of this image and concentrate on the here and now. Instead of continuing to fuss with getting the vent cover off, I decided to kick it off.

A tall skinny guy burst through the door panting. “You honeys just make it harder on yourselves –”


He didn’t get any further with his statement. Bliss stabbed at him with the umbrella, which opened with a whooshing sound. I kicked the cover off the air-conditioning vent at that precise moment. “Oh hell no!” I yelled.

For one split second his attention was divided. I jumped down from the ceiling, rolled, and was up on my feet. I kicked him hard in the knee. I heard a sound like a tree branch snapping. He collapsed howling. His glasses sailed across the room, and the gun he was holding went flying from his hand.

“Where did you come from? I’m so, so very glad to see you. Are you all right?”

“It’s a long story, tell you later. I’m fine, especially now that I’ve found you. I prayed that you would be all right.”

“I prayed for you too.”

“What are we going to do with him?”

“I know what to do with him.”

He lay on the ground, moaning loudly. I looked at him seething; nostrils flaring. I was consumed by such rage, for long seconds, I did not trust myself to speak or to act.

Calming myself, I knelt beside him and poked him in the chest to get his attention. He looked at me, his green eyes moving around rapidly in their sockets. They reminded me of some game that a child would play with. I wondered what was up with those eyes. I’d never seen eyes move like that before.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll break the other leg and then I’ll start on your arms. He shut his eyes tight and whimpered.
Bliss had closed the umbrella and was methodically securing it in that position. I wondered why she was going to all that trouble.

“What are you doing? Leave that! Go get the gun!”

She ignored me, and having completed her task, she started beating him with her weapon of choice.

Though taken aback, I quickly jumped out of her way, not wanting to distract her from her ministrations. I also did not want any misdirected blows to land on me. After all, I had done nothing wrong, and I wanted him to get every bit of his deserved punishment.

Bliss ranted as she beat him. She punctuated her adjective based tirade with vigorous blows from the umbrella. It had my sympathy, she was working it hard.

“You are a degenerate! (whack, whack).

“Evil! (whack, whack).

“Slimy! (whack, whack, whack).

“Rotten! (whack, whack).

“Wicked! (whack, whack).

“Immoral! (whack, whack, whack).

“Perverted! (whack, whack, whack).

“Bucket of excrement!” (whack, whack, whack).

He didn’t try to fight her, just lay on his side turned away from her, covering his head with his arms. His broken leg stuck out at an odd angle. I seriously considered stomping on it, but figured Bliss was doing a good enough job beating the crap out of him.

This beat-down could be seen as the appetizer for tonight. Let Bliss soften him up some. Let him laugh to himself thinking that was all there was going to be from us. My actions would be the entrée. It would be up to him really. If the answers to questions we asked him were not forthcoming, I fully intended to do that stomping on his shattered leg. Beating and stomping, I was optimistic we would continue to have the stomach for this fare.

The guy groaned pathetically as Bliss continued to expend her pent up fear, frustration, and anger on him. At last, exhausted, she stopped and leaned on the umbrella breathing hard. I thought that by now, her dainty little parasol would have been destroyed after being so mistreated. But it showed no sign of breakage; it was sturdier than it looked.

Jack Bauer would have been proud of us; I thought, looking around for something with which to tie up our bruised, battered, and hapless guard.

“Serves you right you know! I’ll bet you never thought you would ever get such a beating at the hands of one of your captives?” If you get out of this alive, make another career choice. I don’t think you are too good at this one.” I said these things to him as I bound his hands with good old duct tape I found in a desk drawer.

“Don’t be cruel. I think you busted his knee. He’s in a whole lot of pain.”

“Cruel? Cruel? Pain? You are the maniac here; you almost killed him with your umbrella.” Bliss turned towards me.

“Stay away from me with that thing; you are one dangerous woman when you are angry.”

“I did get a little crazy there for a bit didn’t I?”

“That you did. But it’s all good. I advised him to change jobs. Perhaps assisted by your actions, he will make the right decision.”

We looked at each other and started to giggle uncontrollably. The giggles very soon turned into full belly laughs. I leaned against the wall holding my midsection. My peripheral vision showed Bliss leaning on the umbrella as if it were a walking stick and cackling heartily. It slid from her grasp and fell to the floor with a dull “thunk”.

We looked at each other and we were off again. I sank to the floor roaring with laughter. Bliss followed suit. We must have laughed on and off like this for at least five minutes. At some point in the midst of my glee, I recognized that we were quite hysterical. I acknowledged this fact and just continued to give in to the laughter. I sincerely hoped that we would recover our faculties before we were found by other guards.

At last, we started to come back to our senses. “Ssshhh! Ssshhh! Not so loud. Someone might hear us.” Bliss was finally able to get out. I crawled to where she sat on the floor still quivering with less audible mirth. I put my arm around her shoulder and we leaned against each other. Soon our subdued merriment turned to quiet sobs.

We sat there and just cried and cried. We cried as if we had lost some treasured possession. We had. We had lost our innocence that night. We now knew intimately that there were evil forces in the world that meant us harm. This was not an abstraction. It was very real. We had seen them. They had names – Sam and Greg, and now this nameless character. We cried because we were still a long way from being safe. We cried because we still didn’t know how we were going to escape from this, our larger prison.

Finally spent, we turned to face each other, and foreheads touching, we seemed to draw strength from the connection. For long moments we remained in this position. Our sobs lessened and then turned to shuddering sighs. Getting determinedly to my feet, I helped Bliss up.

“I guess you better gag him.” Bliss said dispiritedly.

“Not so fast, let’s find out where we are, and how to get out of here, also how many more guards there are around. It’s interrogation time.”

The tables had turned. Now we had a prisoner. He glared at us through angry, pain-filled eyes. I looked back at him tauntingly, ready for a fight.

- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

Sponsored by Willow at

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

BLISS by Kathi Harris

BLISS by Kathi Harris

My eyelids fluttered open to the sound of raised voices. A door slammed, and then there was silence. I turned my head towards the sound, bumping it painfully against a hard surface. "Owww!" I groaned, rubbing my bruised temple. "Where am I? What time is it? What the hell is going on? Bliss? Bliss? Where are you? OMG!"

I sat up quickly, suddenly remembering what had happened with Bliss and I, and those two guys at the club.

Getting unsteadily to my feet, I surveyed my surroundings. I was in a room with a door, a window, and a desk. It was the desk I had banged my head against. I gently rubbed the still tender spot wincing. Leaning against the desk, I took stock of my situation. Where was Bliss? Had those bastards hurt her? Damn!

I felt fine, so I assumed they hadn't messed with me. My stomach clenched tight as I thought of Bliss lying hurt somewhere, or dead. My hands shook at the thought, and I angrily wiped the tears that came unbidden to my eyes. I didn't have time for weeping. I had to find her. "If they've hurt her, I'll...I'll cut their ball sacks off, that's what I'll do." I immediately felt better having said this.

"Well, my mission is clear, I have to find a way out of this room, find Bliss, and get us both out of here. If those guys try to stop me at any time, I am going to kick some butt." I talked softly to myself as I made these plans and then smiled. I was always teasing Bliss about how often she had conversations with herself. Now here I was doing the very same thing. But I was comforted by this action. It made me feel closer to Bliss, I didn't feel so desperately alone.

I looked at the door. The moonlight shining through the window showed me clearly that it had no handle, neither did it have a knob. I walked over to it anyway. My closer scrutiny showed that there was also no peephole.

Though I did not expect the door to open, I pushed at it repeatedly, and hit it with my open palm. It made a dull, thudding sound. My expectations were realized, the door remained immovable. It was an unmarked, unyielding, well-built seal for my cage. I had no intention of it becoming my tomb however. It stood to reason that my jailers were going to come back for me. But there were no guarantees, and I did not really intend to hang around to find out. So, how to get out, that was the question.

I walked back to the desk and sat on its corner, chewing on my lower lip as I tried to figure a way out of my dilemma. I felt some cold air and heard the sound of a fan. Looking up I noticed what seemed to be the possible opening to an air conditioning vent. "Nice!" I thought aloud. "Now, if I were Jack Bauer, I would get up into that vent, move about this building, find Bliss, beat up the bad guys, and get out of this place all in one hour." But since I was not Jack, I very much doubted that all I hoped to accomplish would be achieved. If I could just find Bliss and we could get away, I would be ecstatic. Therefore, for now at least, that would be my mission, those were more realistic goals anyway. Alas, my satisfaction in seeing the bad guys being beaten up would have to wait until I saw reruns of the series 24 on TV; or until the movie finally came to the big screen. I would definitely have to leave the administering of punishment to evil, wicked people who thought nothing of kidnapping beautiful, young women to my hero Jack Bauer.

Thoroughly motivated by this plan, I slowly, and as quietly as I could, dragged the desk directly under the vent. Sitting on the desk, I swung my legs up. I knelt, then stood upon it. Easily reaching the cover of the vent, I took it off. But my sweaty, nerveless fingers betrayed me, and the beastly thing slipped from my hands clattering loudly to the floor. I froze. Had they heard me? I wasn't going to wait around to find out. Boosting myself up into the narrow passageway I had just revealed, I started crawling. I thought about my rescue plan as I moved.

I was glad Bliss had worn the cologne I had given her for her birthday. It was called ACQUA di PARMA, and at one hundred and twenty dollars for a 3.4 ounce bottle, it had strained my budget some. But I liked the scent and had bought it for myself last Christmas. The fragrance was quite distinctive, and I hoped I would be able to sniff Bliss out if our abductors had her in a dark room where I could not pick her out quickly.

It was fortunate that both Bliss and I had worn jeans and flat shoes to the club earlier. Now the jeans would protect my legs as I moved on all fours and then on my belly. I also would not have to worry about my high heels getting snagged on something as I made my escape. I pushed forward eagerly, determinedly, hoping that I would be able to put some distance between myself and this room before my captors discovered I was gone.

- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

sponsored by Willow at

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

TIME by Kathi Harris

TIME by Kathi Harris - Sept 17, 2010

When I woke up again, it was night but not dark. Moonlight streamed through the window, its pale yellow light welcomed me. It replaced the sun's orange radiance that had bid me farewell as I drifted off to sleep again. The moonlight had none of the sun's warmth. I was cold. Shivering, I hugged myself. I was suddenly very thirsty, my throat felt parched. Licking my dry lips, I tried to swallow. But I could not generate enough saliva to help me even in this small endeavor. I needed some water badly.

How much time had I lost, a day, some hours? I couldn't dwell on that now. What was most important at this time, in this place, was the fact that I was still alive. I felt okay. The horrendous headache was gone, as was the nausea. I was clear-headed and strong enough now to find a way out for Jill and I.

As I readied myself to sit up, I studied the window, and then the wall in which the window was set. My eyes took in the cracks and peeling paint on the wall. I hoped that the panes of glass in the window would be easy to break. I prayed that this room was no higher than the second or third floor, giving easy access to the ground.

I turned my head, and the movement not only caused me to scratch my cheek painfully on the prickly carpeting, but released a smell to my too close nostrils that made me retch. "Euwww!" I groaned in disgust, slowly pushing myself up to a sitting position. I leaned against the wall. Sitting there for a couple of beats, I waited for the queasiness to set in, but it didn't.

I got to my feet unsteadily, using the wall to aid me in this quest. I still felt all right even from this great height, just a little shaky. If I fell, this foul smelling carpet would at least cushion my fall a little bit. I hesitantly started to walk around the room, looking for the door. I kept close to the wall, my shoulder bumping it constantly, gratefully. The wall was the much needed friend I could lean on. I had found a new buddy. My shoulder found the door before I saw it. I stopped in my tracks.

Saying a prayer, I turned the knob as noiselessly as I could. I pushed the door then pulled it. I tried again, and again, and again. It was all for naught, the door didn't budge. I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, so disappointed, I burst into tears. After awhile, my sobbing lost its intensity and tapered off to shuddering breaths, and then I was quiet. I reasoned with myself, speaking almost inaudibly so as not to alert my kidnappers of my newly awakened status.

"You didn't really expect the door to be open did you? You hoped they would have made that mistake, you prayed they would have, but you didn't expect it. So calm down! Just calm yourself down! Remember there's always the window if all else fails. What's your plan now, where do you go from here?"

"I guess I could try to find something to open the door." I said, my speech hitching between shuddering breaths.

"There you have it then, that's a good plan! That's an excellent plan!"

It didn't seem at all strange that I was having this dialogue with myself. In fact I was glad for the company. I continued excitedly, but quietly."I have seen it done in the movies and on TV a bunch of times. How difficult could it be? They use a credit card to open one type of lock, for others, it's a straightened out paper clip or a hair pin."

Pumped up by this plan, I started another circuit of the room. Because my prison was empty, I figured that my search would not take long. after all, I would not have to look under, or on top of furniture. I moved away from the wall and started walking two steps to the right, then two steps to the left. I dragged my feet on the carpet as I walked, looking at the floor as closely as I could with the help of the moonlight. I was hoping to kick something that I could use to try to open that door. I didn't think I would be finding any credit cards on this floor. My bet was on a nice shiny paper clip or something of that ilk.

I had almost walked the length of the room when I stepped on something that made me pause. By the light of the moon I could see it was some kind of wire. I bent for a closer look, and saw to my delight that it was a wire hanger. Picking it up with shaking hands, I walked with shakier legs the few steps to my friend the wall. Again sliding down this sturdy buttress until I was sitting, I leaned my back comfortably, companionably, against it. And for a minute or two, I just sat there, breathing deeply, letting the tears of relief escape from my eyes and wet my cheeks, and allowing the moonlight to bathe my face. The means to my salvation - mine and Jill's, the key to our escape was clutched tightly in my hands.

- copyrighted by Kathi Harris

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