Page 2
Story: Tied
“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”
I need help!my brain screams.I found a girl. In a hole. In the woods.
“Hello? May I help you? Are you there?”
Just send someone. She’s a mess.
“Are you hurt? If you’re there, please try to speak. I’m right here to help you, but I need to know where you are.”
“Try to speak,” she says. I almost laugh. I can’t even remember the last time words came out of my mouth. And now that I have to, I can’t seem to get the words to come down from my head and past my lips.
The girl with the tangled wild hair and her little dog continue to stare at me as I swallow hard and force my brain and mouth to get their shit together.
It’s like riding a bike, Ty. You don’t forget how to talk.
“A girl… in the woods,” I rasp. “A hole.” My voice is strained and unnatural, too loud or maybe too soft, much like the dog’s strangled bark.
“There’s a girl in the woods? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you with her?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in the hole with her?”
“No.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No.” I cough into the phone. My throat is dry and raw, and I’m already exhausted from this interrogation. How hard is it to just get help?
“What is your name, sir?”
“I’m going to get her.”
“Can you tell me your location?”
My throat catches again with the struggle to make more words. “Five miles off Rock Road. Old hiking trail. On the left. Not far from the river.”
Ending the call, I peer back down into the hole. It’s about four feet in diameter and maybe ten feet deep. I reach behind me and grab the eight-foot dog leash that’s hanging off my belt, wrap some of it around my wrist, and toss the other end into the hole.
I nod at her, hoping she’ll understand my plan, but she gives me a leery glare and moves backward like the leash is going to bite her.
Talk to her.“Grab it. I’ll pull you out.”
Her mouth parts slightly, and she pulls the dog closer, protectively, against her chest, and I realize she’s afraid I expect her to leave the dog down there.
“Hold the dog. Grab the leash. I’ll pull you both out.”
I need help!my brain screams.I found a girl. In a hole. In the woods.
“Hello? May I help you? Are you there?”
Just send someone. She’s a mess.
“Are you hurt? If you’re there, please try to speak. I’m right here to help you, but I need to know where you are.”
“Try to speak,” she says. I almost laugh. I can’t even remember the last time words came out of my mouth. And now that I have to, I can’t seem to get the words to come down from my head and past my lips.
The girl with the tangled wild hair and her little dog continue to stare at me as I swallow hard and force my brain and mouth to get their shit together.
It’s like riding a bike, Ty. You don’t forget how to talk.
“A girl… in the woods,” I rasp. “A hole.” My voice is strained and unnatural, too loud or maybe too soft, much like the dog’s strangled bark.
“There’s a girl in the woods? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you with her?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in the hole with her?”
“No.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No.” I cough into the phone. My throat is dry and raw, and I’m already exhausted from this interrogation. How hard is it to just get help?
“What is your name, sir?”
“I’m going to get her.”
“Can you tell me your location?”
My throat catches again with the struggle to make more words. “Five miles off Rock Road. Old hiking trail. On the left. Not far from the river.”
Ending the call, I peer back down into the hole. It’s about four feet in diameter and maybe ten feet deep. I reach behind me and grab the eight-foot dog leash that’s hanging off my belt, wrap some of it around my wrist, and toss the other end into the hole.
I nod at her, hoping she’ll understand my plan, but she gives me a leery glare and moves backward like the leash is going to bite her.
Talk to her.“Grab it. I’ll pull you out.”
Her mouth parts slightly, and she pulls the dog closer, protectively, against her chest, and I realize she’s afraid I expect her to leave the dog down there.
“Hold the dog. Grab the leash. I’ll pull you both out.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102