This is the beginning of a novel I started last November during NaNoWriMo. I'm rewriting it because there were details and events that weren't very realistic or incorrect. I'm surprised it isn't bothering me to do this. I'm actually enjoying it. Because I was rewriting this story I used it for my Creative Starter 2 in my writing course. The title is the one most voted for.

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Outwitting a Twisted Mind

Each day should be passed as though it were our last.

-Publilius Syrus

      "I thought we were going for ice cream,” I say to break the silence. Tires humming on asphalt are the only sound inside this wreck of a car. Music doesn’t play because where the radio should be is empty space. Looking around me I notice the overhead light has been dismantled, wires left to hang. The interior of the car is old, ragged, and filthy. It reeks of soured sweat and spoiled food. It’s everything I can do not to puke. It wasn’t so bad at first, hardly noticeable until he rolled up the windows. 
    He doesn’t respond to me. He hasn’t spoken to me since he dropped off the last of my friends. That’s when he told me we’re going for ice cream. I didn’t believe him, and time has proven me right. Being right isn’t a good thing. I don’t know him, not even his name. I had never seen him before in my life, I wasn’t aware he existed. 

You see, he abducted me. I call him Perv since I don’t know his name and he’s not going to tell me. Perv makes a turn onto a dirt road heading into the endless expanse of desert. He continues to stare out the front window intent on his driving. Draped over the steering wheel like a wet cloth. 
    This whole thing started after school. Me and my friends were walking home when Perv pulled over and asked if we wanted a ride. My friends are more daring than me. They took him up on his offer and like a brain dead zombie I followed. I wound up sharing the front passenger seat with Katie. Madison had to get out of the car from the back seat to close the door for me. My door didn’t have a handle and the locking mechanism was missing as well. These things bothered me at the time, just not enough to make an issue of it. My friends were aware the door handle was missing too, but none of them gave it a second thought either. I sigh heavily and stare out the window. Someone has to be missing me.
     A big dust cloud trails after us as he speeds recklessly along the dirt road. It feels as if he’s hitting every hole and boulder the desert has to offer. I’m bouncing around like a piece of popcorn. My head keeps hitting the roof the car. I think about the missing handle, the fact he won’t speak to me, and my anxiety increases again. I’m in trouble like I’ve never been before. And it doesn’t take a mental giant to know my life is in danger. How am I going to get out of this alive?

     If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t get into this damn car. Honestly, I thought we’d be safe.  I thought I’d be dropped off first. My house was the closest, but he passed it by. He dropped the others, leaving me just for him. When he passed my house, I knew right away what was he was doing. I made efforts to get dropped off with my friends, but no one would let me. They thought the whole thing was funny. They had no idea the situation they were putting me in. I should have insisted.  For once in my life, I should have been forceful. I hadn’t been. Now I’m going to die a vicious death unless I find a way out of this.
The scene out the window seems the same no matter which way he turns. My transparent reflection stares back at me devoid of emotion, not giving anything away. The barren desert flies past my window in colors of tans, browns, and beige. The car begins to slow. I look to the front and see a cattle guard and a locked gate. Beyond the dusty road dissolves into oblivion. We pass over the cattle guard with a rumble. He stops the car a few feet from the gate. He turns his head and looks at me. I look at his face trying to memorize every detail. When I get away I’m going to give the police an accurate description of him. I squirm in my seat. His eyes stare intently at me with a crazy kind of heat.

     “I'm getting out of this car to unlock the gate,” he says to me. “You do anything stupid, anything, and I kill you here and now. Understand?”

     As he gets out of the car I shout at him, “What difference does it make what I do? You’re going to kill me anyway!”

     Without saying a word, Perv leans in, removes the car keys, slams the door shut, and walks to the gate.

     “To hell with you,” I shout at him though the door is closed and the windows are up. I crawl over the gearshift to the driver’s seat. I inhale, exhale deep, quick, breaths, grab the door handle, and pull. Nothing!  I let loose with, “Dammit!” My brain begins to work. I unlock the door, pull the handle, shove the door open, and make a mad dash for freedom.
    I’m a runner, and pick a pace for get the hell away from the crazy perv guy. My heart is beating so loudly in my ears I can’t hear if the Perv is coming after me. I’m running like a wild woman. Taking chances with my life, hoping mother nature and luck will hold with every blind footstep I take. I’m looking into the distance for something to hide in or climb so that I can be out of reach from the Perv. Without warning the ground disappears from beneath my feet. I fall landing awkwardly, but briefly, on my left foot twisting my ankle. I slam into the ground on my side. The pain in my ankle is excruciating. I hold onto it with both hands and rock back and forth. Despite the pain I keep my moans and groans in check, and do not vocalize them. I’m covered in dust lying on the ground with something sharp jabbing me in the back. There is a thud. I look in the direction of the sound and there he stands. He just stands there staring at me a grim look on his face. I fear what manner of death he has planned for me. I watch with dread as he walks towards me.

     Calmly he says, “I told you not to do anything stupid.”

     “I don’t think trying to save my own life is stupid,” I reply belligerently. What did I have to lose? I’m going to die.

     A deep, intense pain blooms in my side as his boot makes contact with my body. I can’t help but cry out. On their own accord tears jump from my eyes and rush down my dusty cheeks. I suck in my breath and make gulping sounds as I try to recover from the sting of the impact. Perv reaches for me, grabs me under my arms, and dumps me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. I nearly pass out from the pain. This could make me give up, but I'm determined to live, to get back to my life. I’m going to be like the Black Knight in an old Monty Python movie. The movie where the knight loses his arms and legs, but never gives stops fighting.

At the car he attempts to put me back in the front passenger seat. He slams the back of my head against the doorframe. Temporarily my vision fades to black. Red stars burst brilliantly into sight and flicker out. Perv throws me onto the seat like a rag doll and buckles me in. He doesn’t do this because he cares for me, but because it’s one more barrier. 

I carefully touch the back of my head. A lump has already formed and it’s moist. Great, I’m bleeding. I carefully probe around my side where he kicked me. I try a deep breath. Pain. Nothing to signify a serious injury, but what do I know? I’m only a sophomore in high school. I continue taking a physical inventory; head hurting, lumpy and bleeding; left side massively bruised, painful, hurts to move, and hurts to breath; left ankle, throbbing, swollen and will without a doubt make it painful to walk; knees and palms torn up and bleeding. Will these things keep me from escaping? No way in hell. 

     The drive has become worse, causing my injuries to flare. I’m tossed up then slammed back into my seat with every bump. My injured head jerks and hits the headrest. My side takes each successive jolt by sending out growing tentacles of pain. How can this old car take this road and not fall apart?  What in the world is holding this thing together? Superglue? I don’t moan or cry out. Somehow I sense this would give him pleasure as begging for my life would. I’m not going to do any of that.

I’m not trying to make him angry. I don’t need another boot to the body, but I’m sure as hell not going to give him any pleasure. I hope I drive him crazy with frustration. Closing my eyes would be heaven right now. But, I don’t want to miss any turns he might make. I start to plot my getaway when I realize he’s speaking.

     “Don’t think of trying to get away again. I’ll chop off a foot, a leg, makes no difference to me. I’m not interested in your feet. Think about that for a while.”

     He’s said all he’s going to say. At least I know he doesn’t plan on hacking me to pieces. My head, arms, and legs will remain attached. I guess that’s a good news bad news message.