Solemn Impressions

The sound of digging behind the house got louder, as the man obviously became more determined to go through with his plan. Helen looked down at her feet bound to this seemingly rickety bed. How had she gotten here? How had they gotten to this place? When did Steve become this man digging her grave? How was she going to get away? She had already tried to get her free but she had obviously under-estimated his rope tying skills. would she just give up and let him bury her alive as he said he would? would he really go though with it?

'God help me' Helen silently prayed even as she continued to fidget about on the bed. There was not much she could do. Her hands had been tied to the bed rest behind her back, and those ropes had not budged the whole morning...

'What time is it? How long have I been here?' she wondered. Tears ran down her face as she thought of her end.

'God!' She couldn't scream. He had tied a dirty rag across her mouth. And even if she had screamed, who would have heard her? The nearest house was about 5 miles away. 'We should never have bought land so far away from people' she thought. 'Now i'm going to die and nobody will ever know. Who will even notice when his car passes by the trading center without me in it? Who will be able to see through his darkly tinted windows as the car speeds past the villagers?'

Steven had been clearing this land for a month now. He had hired men to erect a fence all around it, and hired a security guard to make sure nobody tresspased on 'his' land.

'Dear God, HELP ME!' her mind screamed as she heard his footsteps approach the front of the house. 'HELP ME'

He stood there looking at her with hate in his eyes. He had not said a word to her since he had tied her up, and coldly told her fate.

She pleaded with him. 'Steven please! Please don't do this' her mind cried as the tears continued to flow.

He reached for the gun on the table by the bedside. confidently cocking it, he said "i will not hesitate to shoot you if you try anything." steven stood there and coldly stared at her for a little while before he cut her feet free. She didn't feel much of a difference; her ankles still stung from being bound too tightly together.

'Steve!' her eyes pleaded again, as he roughly pushed her onto her side so he could cut the ropes on her hands. He freed one hand, held it tightly on her back as he pressed her down on the bed, before cutting the second hand free. He quickly yanked her off the bed but she was quick too. If she was going to be buried, she would be dead first.

He slapped her across her face with the gun but using all her might, she struggled to get away from him.
The gun shot surprised her, but it was the sound of her screaming that shocked her.

She could make a sound? what about that dirty rag...

"Helen! Helen! Helen" Steve was calling when she finally came to.
"it was a dream" He soothed as wiped the sweat off her face, and pulled her to himself. She was dazed and confused. Why would she have such an ugly dream about sweet Steve?

Helen rarely had any dreams. She did not even have bad dreams except that time when she'd watched three masked men stab her father to death. Although it had felt so real, her mother had consoled her saying it was just a dream. Two weeks later, her father was shot dead infront of her as she opened the gate for him.