“Where are we?” I shrieked at her while she looked at me with unbelief that i had never seen before. I threw my hands desperately into the air, pleading for an answer that she just couldn’t give. “How should I know?” She cried in a raspy whisper. Anger swelled up in me. I thought to myself she brought us out here! Why doesn’t she know how to get back? She pleaded for me to understand, but I refused to listen. It was a fault that could get us killed, she didn’t deserve forgiveness. Our arguments echoed off the cliffs surrounding us. The lake below even trembled in distress. Harsh ragged breathing, screaming, breaking the silence. Tensions thickened, heart rates quickened, and dread hovered around us in a thick, invisible fog. Suddenly lights shone through the darkness, blinding us. Peering through our squinted eyes, we saw a corroded green pick-up truck with a cracked window, no review mirrors, and obviously, incredibly bright headlights.
“Carrie, someone is in there!” Megan whispered to me. I gave her a quick squint of disapproval. “Well, don’t you think I would already know that, now stop stating the obvious and start telling me something I don’t know.” I growled at her. She glowered at me and said, “Don’t you get this? This will probably be our only chance we have to get out of this place!”.
“Bad idea.” I said sternly, backing away from the truck. She gave me a menacing glare, walked up to the truck bravely while i gapped from the sidelines, and tapped on the cracked window three times. The man inside walked out and stood before Megan, towering over her eleven year old body like a grizzly bear. She gulped inaudibly and began to speak, “Excuse me sir but — ” but before she could even finish her sentence, he grasped her scrawny neck tightly, and he peered right into her shock filled eyes. “Why Annie? Why did you die Annie? Your coming home your in big trouble.” he said angrily. She went limp in his hands, and he tossed her like a rag doll into the back of the truck. I gazed in horror from the forest. What was he talking about? Annie? She’s not Annie! He speed off down the road, and I began to chase after him full fledged, but I couldn’t keep up. I fell to my knees in defeat, and I started to cry. My little sister was gone, and who’s fault was it? Mine.
Carrie woke up in a compact dark room. All she remembered from the previous night was strong hands suffocating her until all went black. She stood and began to ram her hands on the door. “Let me out!” She screeched at the top of her lungs. The door flung open and she fell on concrete, smashing her nose. She cried out in agony, and the man grabbed her by her dirty orange hair, and lifted her up. She looked up, and through her blurry eyes, saw the man. His face was scarred and as tough as leather. A deep frown line was present on his face, and he had overgrown whiskers poking out of his skin. He was overall a intimidating looking man with no emotion in his eyes but rage. Her heart beat unevenly, and her breathing became ragged as he reached for a rusty butcher knife that hung from the ceiling, along with many other weapons of torture.
I ran down the road for hours. My lungs burned like an inferno and my legs ached, but I felt that I was responsible for the misfortune that had happened. I began to sob pathetically again. My bloodshot eyes wandered up, and I spotted an old trashy trailer with the green Chevy truck parked in the lawn. I shuddered in fear as I staggered up to the door. As I was about to barge in and rescue my sister, the man stomped out. Over his shoulder was my dead sister’s limp body, bloody and mutilated.
I froze in place, my body turned into ice. All thoughts in my head were replaced by a thick layer of frost and fog. He stared into my eyes, and tears began to dribble down the man’s face. He propped Carrie off his shoulders into his arms and cradled her lovingly and gently. Confusion overwhelmed me as he whispered in her ear, “Don’t cry Annie. Daddy is here.” He reached out his shaking arm and leaned forward towards me. I tried to pull away but he grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go. He was bawling over Megan’s dead body, and almost broken down to nothing. As he leaned forward his wallet fell out of his jean jacket. It flopped open only to reveal a picture of a little girl, dated September 30, 2008, two years ago exactly. “Annie — ” He whispered, and he dropped Megan and he turned horribly angry again. “You did this to my daughter!” he cried, grabbing for his kitchen knife. I managed to get out of his grasp and I ran away into the forest in a panic. He cried out for me to come back but I continued to run for my life. He collapsed in agony and screamed into the air. Unable to stand under the heavy weight of his misery, he crawled through his house into the basement dragging Megan behind him, leaving a rich trail of blood. He threw her into the basement. There lied hundreds of bodies of little girls, that he called his Annies.