First dark.The long darkness.I opened and closed my eyes, opened and closed them again.still the same.It was pitch black inside and out. I have a lot of dreams.Tossing with the waves in a dark sea.A stake tied to a mountain in the dark.A beast I couldn't see sniffed and sniffed beside me.I feel the moist nose touch my skin.Once you know that you are dreaming, you are awake.Sometimes you wake up from one dream and fall back into another.But if you wake up and nothing has changed, then it should be real life. Darkness, and objects in the dark.Pain.It was far away from her at first, then gradually approached, and finally became one with her.Be one with me.I was filled with burning, flowing pain.Even though it was still dark, I could still see the pain.Yellow, red, and blue lights flickered on and off, and fireworks sputtered noiselessly behind my eyes.

I started looking around but wasn't sure what to look for.I don't know where it is.I don't know what it is.Love spouse.I love my family.It was strenuous and strenuous, like dragging a burden out of the dark and deep lake.correct.Abigail.I figured it out.My name is Abigail.Abby.Too skinny.Abby is too skinny.Surnames are harder to recall.My memory is fragmented, and my last name seems to be in that fragment.I think of a method of classification.Berkeley, Park Pai, Monica, Fleming, Deborah, Trieu, Nabia, Luster, Gobi, no, wait a minute.look back.Trieu.no.Deborah.That's right, that's right.I remembered a jingle.A jingle that has been dusty for many years.Not happy Deborah, not beautiful Deborah, but dewy Deborah.Abby.Deborah.I cling to the name like a lifebuoy being thrown at me in a stormy sea.This raging sea is in my head, and the painful waves are surging, constantly hitting the inside of my skull.

I closed my eyes again, forgetting my name. Everything is tangled together.All things emerge and co-exist at the same time.How long has this been the case?few minutes.hours.Then, like scenes emerging from a fog, everything began to appear, each taking its own shape.I had the taste of metal in my mouth, and the pungent taste of metal in my nose, but that smell turned into a musty smell, reminding me of garden storehouses, tunnels, cellars, cellars, dank, filthy and untouched places. I strained my ears to listen.Only my own breathing, strangely loud.I hold my breath.Silently.Only the sound of a heartbeat.Is that noise, or is it just my blood pulsating inside, squeezing my eardrums?

I feel uncomfortable.My lower back, pelvis, and legs were in excruciating pain.I roll over.No, I didn't roll over.I didn't move.I can't move.I raised my arms as if to cover something.No.The arm style did not move.I can't roll over.Could it be that I am paralyzed?I have no feeling in my legs.my toes.I concentrate on my toes.Rub the left big toe against the next toe.Rub the right big toe against the next toe.No problem, I can do it.inside the sock.No shoes.I don't have shoes on. my fingers.I tap my fingers like drums, and the tips of my fingers touch something rough.cement or bricks.This is a hospital?injured.accident.Lying somewhere, waiting to be found.A train accident.The wreckage of the train.The machine was on top of me.wreckage.in the tunnel.Ambulance personnel arrived.Heat-sensing search equipment.I try to recall that train.Can't remember.Or an airplane.Or a car.The comparison is probably the car.Driving late at night, dozing off with the headlights of oncoming cars shining on the windshield.I know what it feels like to pinch myself to refresh myself, pat my cheeks, yell a few times, and roll the car window to let the cold air rush over my eyes.Maybe this time I lost my mind and drove off the road, fell off the berm, and the car rolled over and disappeared among the trees.When will someone report my disappearance to the police?How to search for a missing vehicle?

I can't wait for help.I may have been within walking distance of the crowds driving to work, only to die from dehydration or blood loss.I have to act.If only I could see the way.No moon, no starlight.Perhaps only twenty yards would have saved the day.Climb up the berm.As long as my toes feel, I can move.Turn over first.I ignored the pain and tried to turn over, but this time I felt restrained.I flex my limbs, tense and relax my muscles.I was bound, bound around my forearms and above my elbows, my ankles and thighs, my chest.I can lift my head up like I'm just about to start a sit-up.not only.Not just pitch black.It was pitch black, yes, but it was more than that.My head is covered.

If you think about it, there must be a reason.Use your brain.Inmates in prisons are handcuffed and fettered.Take it too far.what else?Patients in hospitals may also be restrained to prevent them from harming themselves.Lie on the stroller.Strapped to a cart before being transported into the operating room.I had an accident.For example, a car accident, which is most likely.According to statistics so.The injuries are serious but not life-threatening.Suddenly, a thought popped into my head: the sudden movement could cause severe internal bleeding.The patient may fall off the cart.Just wait for the nurse or anesthetist to arrive.Maybe I've already had a numbing shot, or a preoperative anesthetic, so my mind is blank.It's eerily quiet, but everyone has heard of patients in hospitals lying on carts for hours, waiting for the operating room to be vacated.

There is a problem with this reasoning.I don't seem to be lying on the stroller.The smell smelled of something black, musty, old and decayed.When I touch it with my fingers, I can only feel cement or stone.My body is lying on some hard object.I try to consider other possibilities.Bodies are piled up in makeshift morgues after blockbuster disasters.The school gymnasium.Church synagogue.Some disaster may befall me.The injured may have to find a space to settle anywhere, and tie them up to prevent them from hurting themselves.Will they be wearing hoods too?The surgeon will wear a headgear.But the eyes are not covered.Perhaps to avoid infection.

I looked up again.I can touch the shirt with my chin.I wear clothes.That's right.I can feel clothing on my skin.A shirt, trousers, socks.No shoes. There are also things looming, scrambling for my mind to identify.bad stuff.bound.in the darkness.wearing a hood.absurd.Could it be a prank?I was reminded of things I would do as a student.They get you very drunk and put you on a train in Aberdeen.You wake up in London wearing only a pair of underwear and holding a fiftypence piece in your hand.After a while, everyone came out, tearing off the blindfold and shouting: Happy April Fool's Day.We'll all have a good laugh.However, is it April now?I remember being cold.Is summer over?Will summer come?But, of course, there is always one summer that has come to an end, and there is always another to come.

Every alley is a dead end.I have walked through them one by one but found nothing.problem occurs.I know this very well.One possibility is that it was a joke.But I don't find it funny.The other possibility, the second possibility, is that something went wrong and officials are dealing with it.A hood or a bandage, yes, it's probably a bandage.That thought is also one of the possibilities.I may have a head injury, damage to my eyes or ears, my whole head is bandaged and a hood is worn to protect me.These will all be removed.There will be some stinging.A cheerful smile from a nurse.A doctor frowned at me.Don't worry, there's nothing to worry about.They will say so.Also call me darling.

There are other possibilities.Not a good thing.I thought of the stone under my finger.Humid air, like a cave.So far, only pain and disordered thoughts, but now there is something else.The fear in my chest was like a lump of slime.I make noise.Moaned softly.I can talk.I don't know whom to call or what to say.I yelled louder.I thought an echo or harsh sound might give me an idea of ​​where I was, but the sound was muffled by the hood.I yelled again until my throat hurt. Then there was movement nearby.smell.Sweetness and aroma.There was breathing, and someone was crawling.At this time, my mouth was stuffed with cloth, and I couldn't breathe, so I could only breathe through my nose.I don't know something tightly wrapped around my face, exhaled towards me, my cheeks were hot, and then, in the darkness came a voice, almost whispering, the voice was hoarse, the tone was tense, and the inarticulate, I It's barely audible.

No, said the voice.Once again I'll plug your nose too. My mouth was stuffed with a cloth that filled my mouth so my cheeks bulged and rubbed against my gums.The smell of grease and rotting cabbage fills my throat.I felt convulsions all over my body, nausea rising like poisonous gas.I can't be sick.I tried to breathe, tried to get air through the gag but couldn't.I can't do it.I can't move.I twisted the bindings at my arms and ankles, trying to catch my breath, as if my whole body was convulsing and throbbing on the rough stone floor, I was running out of air, I felt frantic, red behind my bulging eyes, a heart like About to burst out of my throat, I made a strange dry sound, as if I wanted to cough but couldn't.I am a dying fish, flapping and writhing on the hard floor.I was hooked and bound, but inside of me I was loose, all my internal organs were shattered.Is death like this?Buried alive. I have to breathe.How are you going to breathe?Breathe through your nose.he said.The voice said he was going to plug my nose next.Breathe through your nose.Breathe now.I can't get enough air in like this.I couldn't help but gasp, trying to get myself enough air.The little space left in my mouth couldn't hold my tongue.The tongue kept pushing against the ball of cloth.I felt my body bow again.Breathe slowly.Breathe calmly.Inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale, and continue to breathe until only breath is felt, so that you can live.breathe.There is a musty, musty smell in my nose, and a greasy, putrid smell pours down my throat.I tried not to swallow, but I had to, and then bile filled my mouth.I can not stand it any more.I can take it, I can, I can, I can. Breathe in and breathe out, Abby.Abby.I'm Abby.Abigail.Deborah.Inhale and exhale.don't think.breathe.You are still alive. The pain in my head came back again.I lifted my head slightly, and the pain rushed into my eyes.I blinked, but no matter whether I opened or closed my eyes, it was still pitch black.My eyelashes scrape against the headgear.I am cold.I can feel the cold now.My feet are chilly in the socks.Is that my sock?Feels too big and rough; unfamiliar.There was a dull pain in my left calf, and I managed to squeeze the muscles in my leg to get rid of the cramping.My cheeks itch under the hood.I lay there for a few seconds, concentrating on the itch, and then I turned my head and tried to shrug my shoulders to scratch it.to no avail.So I twisted and twisted until my face could rub against the floor. I'm wet.There was a tingling in the skin between my legs and under my thighs, inside my trousers.Are those my trousers?I lay in my own urine, in the dark, hooded, tied and gagged.Inhale and exhale, I tell myself, keep inhaling and exhaling.Try to let the thoughts out slowly, a little at a time, so that you don't get stuck in them.I felt the pressure of fear building up in my head, my body a fragile, cracked shell filled with pounding water.I let myself think only of inhaling and exhaling through my nostrils.Inhale and exhale. Someone a man, the man who put the cloth in my mouth brought me here.He brought me here and tied me up.I am his prisoner.Why?I can't think about this yet.I strained my ears for sound, anything other than my breathing and my heart beating, and the scraping of hands or legs against the rough floor as I writhed.Maybe he was next to me, in the room, squatting somewhere.But there were no other voices.I am alone at this moment.I lie down.I listen to my heartbeat.The silence oppressed me. A vision flashed through my mind.A yellow butterfly on a leaf, flapping its wings.It was like a sudden flash of light.Is that something I'm thinking about, some time in the past that has been buried for so long and hasn't surfaced until now?Or was that just a vision popping up in my head, like some instinctive reflex, a short circuit? A man tied me up in the dark.He must have brought me here after taking me captive, but I have no recollection of what happened.I searched hard, but my mind was blank, an empty room, an abandoned house, no response.Nothing at all.I can't remember anything.I got a lump in my throat.I can't cry, I have to think, but be careful, suppress your fear.I can't think too deeply, I have to stop.Just think about what I know.fact.I'll slowly sketch out a picture, and then I'll be able to examine it. My name is Abigail; Abby.I'm twenty-five years old, living with my boyfriend, Terrence.Waymore, who lives in a small flat on Westcott Road.By the way, Terry.Terry would be worried.He will call the police.He'll tell them I'm missing.They would drive there with lights flashing and sirens blaring, and they would break through the doors, and the light and air would come in.No, just think about the facts.I work for Jay and Jonah as an interior designer for office spaces.I have a desk with a blue and white laptop, a small gray phone, a stack of papers, and an oval ashtray stuffed with scraps of paper and rubber bands. When was the last time I was in the office?It seems out of reach, like a dream that disappears when you try to grasp it, like someone else's life.I can't remember.How long have I been lying here?An hour, or a day, or a week?It's January, and I know that at least, I think I do.It's cold outside and the days are short.Maybe it's snowing.No, I can't think of things like snow, the sun shining on the white snow.Just focus on what I know: January.But I can't tell if it's day or night, or it's February now.I tried to think back to the last day I could remember clearly, but it was like searching in a thick fog, only vague images looming. Thinking back on New Years Eve, dancing with friends and everyone kissing each other at the stroke of midnight.Kissing people, friends I know well and people I've only met a few times, and strangers who come up to me with arms outstretched and expectant smiles on their faces, because kissing is a given on New Year's Eve.Don't dwell on these things, though.After New Year's Eve, the next, oh yeah, a few days are on my mind.The office, the phone ringing, the expense statement in my filing cabinet, a few cold cups of bitter coffee.But maybe that was years ago, not years later.Or year after year and year after year, day after day.Everything is blurred and meaningless. I try to twist my body.My toes were cold and stiff, my neck ached, and my head was buzzing.I have a foul taste in my mouth.Why am I here?What will happen to me next?I lay flat like a sacrifice, all limbs immobilized.I was full of fear.He might starve me.He might rape me.He might abuse me.He might kill me.Maybe he already raped me.Clinging to the ground, I sobbed to myself, two lines of tears welling up in my eyes, itching and stinging as the tears trickled down my ears.Don't cry, Abby, you can't cry. Think about the butterfly, it's meaningless but beautiful.I imagine the yellow butterfly on the green leaf.It's all I can think of, perched on a leaf so light it might blow like a feather in the wind.I heard footsteps, softly, as if the man were barefoot.Footsteps approached and then stopped.Someone was breathing heavily, like panting, as if he was climbing towards me.I lay stiff in the dead silence.He stands above me.With a click, I knew he had switched on the flashlight even with the hood on.I couldn't see anything, but at least I could see through the gaps in the fabric that it was no longer dark.He must have been standing right above me, pointing a flashlight down at my body. You peed your pants, he muttered, maybe it sounded like a grunt because I was through my hood.Silly girl. I felt him leaning over me.I heard his breathing, and I heard my own breathing getting louder and faster.He lifted the hood up slightly, and pulled the gag out quite gently.I felt a fingertip touch my lower lip.For a few seconds, all I could do was gasp in relief, sucking air into my lungs.I heard myself say: Thank you.My voice sounded extremely thin and weak.water. He untied my arms and chest so that only my ankles remained immobile.He slid one hand under my neck and helped me into a sitting position.Another pain throbbed inside my skull.I dare not move without authorization.I sat resignedly as he twisted my arms behind my back and tied my wrists together, his movements rough and the rope digging into my muscles.Is that a rope?Feels stiffer than rope, like clothesline or cable. Opening his mouth, he spoke in a muffled whisper.I do what I'm told.He put a straw through the headgear and into my lips.drink. The water was lukewarm, leaving a rotten taste in my mouth. He put one hand on the back of my neck and started rubbing it.I sit stiffly.I must not cry.I must not speak out.I must not be nauseous.His fingers pressed into my skin. Where do you hurt?He said. No place.I speak softly. No place?You didn't lie to me? My head was filled with a gust of rage, stronger even than fear.You piece of shit, I growled in a frantic, high-pitched tone.Let me go, let me go, then I'll kill you, wait and see The ball of cloth was stuffed into my mouth again. You are going to kill me.good.I like. For a long time, I focused on my breath.I've heard stories of people feeling trapped in their own bodies, so claustrophobic, like they're in prison.They are tortured by the thought that they will never escape.My life has been reduced to the tiny passages between my nostrils for breathing, and if my nose were blocked I would die.That kind of thing happens.Some people were bound and gagged, and they had no intention of killing them, but because of a small mistake in the binding, the cloth that bound the mouth was too close to the nose and they suffocated to death. I let myself inhale one, two, three, exhale, one, two, three.Inhale, exhale.I once saw a movie, it seemed to be a war movie, a super brave warrior escaped into the river to hide from the enemy, breathing only through a straw.I am like that.The thought made my chest ache and made my breathing choppy.I have to calm myself down.I don't think about the soldier and his straw, and what happens if it gets clogged.I tried to think of the river, its coolness and comfort, its gentle babbling and beauty, and the sun shining brightly on it. In my mind, the river flowed slower and slower, and finally became still.I pictured it starting to freeze, congealing into a layer like glass, so you could see the fish swimming quietly underneath.I can't help it.I see myself falling into this thin ice, trapped underneath.I've read or heard that if you fall into thin ice and can't find the opening, there is a thin layer of air between the ice and the water, and you can lie under the ice and breathe that air.Then what?Drowning may be more pleasant.All my life I've been afraid of drowning, and yet I've read or heard that drowning is actually a very pleasant way to die.I believe in this argument.Uncomfortable and frightening is trying to avoid drowning.Fear is out of trying to avoid death.Allowing yourself to die is like falling asleep. One, two, three, one, two, three, I'm more calm now.Some people, probably at least two per cent of the population, would have died of panic or suffocation if what happened to me happened, so I'm already doing a little better than others.I'm alive.I am breathing. I was lying on my back with my ankles and wrists bound, my mouth was stuffed with a rag, and my head was covered with a hood.I'm not tied to anything anymore.I twisted my body into a squat position, then stood up very slowly.Try to stand up.I hit my head on top.It must be less than five feet high here.I sat down again, panting from the ordeal. At least I can move my body, squirming like a snake through the dust.But I hesitated.I have a sense of being on a high ground.He was below me when he came in.His footsteps and voice came from below.He climbed up to find me. I straighten my legs in one direction, and all I can touch is the floor.I endured the pain and spun around with my back support.My T-shirt is rolled up, the bare skin of my back rubbing against the rough surface beneath my body.I straighten my legs.floor.I arched my back and squirmed forward, slowly and slowly.Probe with your feet and feel nothing but solidity underneath.From a space, an empty place that extends above and out, and there is nothing below.I lay down and squirmed forward, step by step.The legs hang down, bent at the knees.If I sat up at this time, I would be sitting on a waterfall or a cliff.I was so terrified that I was trembling even for breathing.I started to move back.My back hurts.My head hurts and booms.I continued to squirm, moving backwards until my back was against a wall. I sat up and leaned my bound hands against the wall.My fingertips are against the wet, rough brick. I moved slowly in one direction along the wall until I reached a corner, then pushed in the other direction.My muscles are burning from the toss.It should be about ten feet wide by four feet deep. The pain in my head cluttered my mind and made it difficult to think calmly.Is it a boom?Scratching sound?Is it the voice in my head? I was shivering with cold.I have to keep thinking, to keep my mind busy, to keep it from thinking about anything else.I was kidnapped somehow.I am imprisoned here against my will.Why do kidnappings happen?To take hostages, for ransom or political motives.All my property, if credit card debt and consumer card debt are deducted, the remaining total is about 2,000 pounds, half of which comes from my old rusty car.As for politics, I'm a workplace environment consultant, not an ambassador.But then again, I can't remember anything.I might be in South America at this point, or Lebanon.It's just that the man's accent is obviously British, and I can vaguely recognize a southern British accent from the soft whispering of the lisp. What other motives are there?I've talked myself into thinking about the alternative, and that's a really, really miserable situation.I felt tears welling up in my eyes.clam down.clam down.I can't have a snot and a tear. He didn't kill me.That's a good sign.It's not necessarily a good thing though, and it might turn out to be a bad omen that makes me sick to even think about it.But I can only resign myself to fate.I lightly contract my muscles.I can't move.I don't know where I am.I don't know where, when, or how, or why I was taken captive.I couldn't see anything, I couldn't even make out what the room I was in was like.It feels damp in here.Maybe a basement or warehouse.I know nothing about that man.Or those men.or those people.He might be nearby.I don't know if I know him.I don't know what he looks like. That might help.If I could identify him, he might be anyway, which might be worse.Professional kidnappers wear hoods so the hostages can never see them.Putting me on a headgear may be the same reason, different routes lead to the same goal.And he also deliberately changed his voice, which was a bit vague, and it didn't sound like a human being talking at all.He might even be planning to hold me hostage for a while before letting me go.He'll dump me somewhere in London, and there's no way I'll ever find him again.I would have no idea or concept.That was barely the first piece of good news. I don't know how long I've been here, but no more than three days at most, or even two.I feel poor but not too weak, hungry but not too hungry.Maybe two days.Terry must have reported me missing.I don't go to work, they'll call Terry, he'll get confused, he'll try to call my cell phone.Where is my mobile phone?The police were probably called within hours.Now there should be a large-scale search operation, and groups of people will search wildly in the wilderness.All personnel canceled vacations, police dogs were dispatched, and helicopters were dispatched.Another hopeful thought.It is impossible to snatch an adult on the road at random and hide it somewhere without arousing suspicion.The police will be dispatched, going door to door, entering and searching, and shining flashlights into dark corners.At any moment I might hear their voices, see them.I just need to survive as long as I can.survived. I yelled at him.I said I was going to kill him.That's all I remember saying to him, among other things, when he handed me the water: Thank you.I hate myself for ever saying thank you for that.But I already pissed him off when I rant.What did he say? Are you going to kill me?That's good.To the effect.This is not very optimistic.Are you going to kill me?That probably played into his favor, because in fact he was going to kill me. I tried to find another comfort.He probably thought that was ridiculous, because I was at his mercy, so the idea of ​​me wanting to fight back sounded ridiculous.I took a big risk by speaking ill of him.I pissed him off and he might torture me or beat me or something.But he didn't do anything, and it might help to know that.He kidnapped me, tied me up, and I threatened him with words.Perhaps, if I stood up to him, he would recoil and be helpless against me.If I don't give in to him, maybe it's the best strategy to spend with him.The reason why he kidnaps women is probably because he is afraid of women, and he can only use this to control at least one woman.He probably expected that I would beg him for life, and that would give him the sense of control he wanted.However, if I don't submit, things will not develop as he expected. Or backfire.That would only show that the situation was completely in his hands.What I say doesn't matter to him.He'd just find that ridiculous and go ahead with his plan, whatever it was.Of course the whole point was to make him feel like I was flesh and blood as much as possible so he would find it harder to lay hands on me or do anything about it.But if that made him feel threatening, it might annoy him even more.I can't do anything.I can't fight.I cannot escape.I can only resort to delaying tactics. What is the best policy for this tactic?piss him off?To please him?Intimidate him?I lay on the floor staring into the suffocating darkness inside my hood. The texture of darkness around me has changed.There are sounds and smells.It was that hoarse, thick whisper again.I'll take your gag out.If you yell, I will slaughter you like an animal until you are bloody.Nod your head if you hear and understand what I'm saying. I nodded hastily.Those thick, warm hands moved on the back of my neck.The knot was untied and the gag was roughly pulled from my mouth.As soon as I was untied, I coughed violently.One hand pressed down on my head and I felt a straw go into my mouth.I suck until I hear a gurgle and know I'm done. alright.He said.Here is a bucket.Do you want to use it? What's the meaning?Let him say a few more words. you know.toilet. He felt embarrassed.Is that a good sign? I'm going to a decent toilet. Either use that bucket or piss your pants, sweetheart. All right. I'll take you to the barrel where you can touch it with your feet.I will back off.If you dare to play tricks, I will cut you into pieces.understand? Understand. Then there was the sound of him taking a few steps down, and then I felt his arms wrap around my armpit, wrapping around me as I leaned towards him.Strong and strong arms.I was hugged tightly by him.An animal smell, the stink of sweat, and more.One arm is under my thigh.I got a gag in my throat.I was picked up and placed gently on a rough, gravel floor.I stand up straight.My legs and back were so sore.A hand grabbed my hair and I felt something hard against my neck. do you know what this is have no idea. It is the blade.I'm going to untie the cable from your wrist.If you dare to play tricks, I will use the knife. I won't.I want you to let me go to the toilet by myself. It's dark in here.I will back off. I felt a rush of pressure as he untied the knot behind me.He backed away.For a moment, I thought about trying to take action, and then realized that the idea was ridiculous.I was still untied, wearing a hood, and I was in a dark room with a man next to me holding a knife. let's go.He said. Actually, I don't really want to.I just want to move the location.I touch my clothes. T-shirt, loose trousers.I can't do it. You can use the bucket again tomorrow morning. tomorrow morning.good.Let out a little breath.Alright alright.He said it was dark in here.I let go of my trousers and panties and sat on the bucket.Only a few drops.I got up again and pulled my pants up. Can I say a few words? What? I don't know what it is, but you must never do this kind of thing.You can't get away with it.You may not be able to appreciate what will happen if they find me.But you can let me go, drive me somewhere, untie me, that's all.Someone has already called the police that I am missing and they will come for me.I know you can push me all you want, but you will be brought to justice, although it may not do me any good.If you let me go, we can go back to our own lives, otherwise, you will be caught eventually. That's what everyone else said.when they speak. What? stand up. all? Feel the knot tighten.It feels like being held high, placed on a high shelf like a child.like a doll.A dead animal. Stay there, he said.Just stay there. I sat there, thinking he should have left by this time. The mouth opens. He is by my side.The rag was stuffed into my mouth again, and another piece of cloth was tightly covered my face.I heard footsteps and felt a new tension around my neck.so tight.I was pulled back.I can feel the wall behind me. Listen well, said the voice.This around your neck is a noose, tied behind you in a slipknot, to a bolt fastened to the wall.understand?Nod. I nod. You are on a platform.understand? I nod. If you move around, you will slide off the platform, the noose will strangle you, and you will die.understand? I nod. good. Then there was silence.There is only silence.And my heart beats like the waves of the sea.That noose made my neck burn.I inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. I stood on a wooden pier, and the lake beside me was as calm as a mirror.calm.I could see smooth pebbles deep below, pink, brown, gray.I bent my knees slightly, raised my hands high, and jumped into the cool and calm water of the lake, and then suddenly something wrapped around my neck, and I staggered down dizzily, but was also pulled back at the same time, and the lake disappeared, becoming It was pitch black.The noose cuts into my neck.I sit up straight.For a moment my mind went blank, and then a sense of dread flooded my body.My heart was beating wildly and my mouth was parched.I was sweating profusely inside the hood, and I could feel strands of hair sticking to my cheeks.I was terrified, itchy and sticky, wet and cold.At this point my fear was real enough to smell. I am asleep.how so?I'm tied up like a chicken waiting to be slaughtered, waiting for my neck to be broken, how can I still sleep?I've always wondered how death row prisoners can sleep the day before their executions, but I do.How long have you slept?I have no idea maybe a few minutes, dozing on this platform until the noose strangles me awake; or maybe a few hours, or more.I can't tell day from night.Time stood still. But time didn't stop.Time continued to flow.Time is running out.There was silence, rumbling in my ears.Something's going to happen, I don't know what or when, but I know something's going to happen.It could be now, right after the thought, or it could be years and months away.I think back to his words, and my stomach burns.It was as if there was an animal inside me, a nasty rodent with sharp yellow teeth, gnawing at me.That's what everyone else said.What does it mean?I know what that means.That means there were other victims before me.They were all killed and I was next on a platform with a noose around my neck and after me after me Breathe, and think.Draw up a plan.The escape plan is hopeless.All I have is my mind and what I can tell him when he takes this stinking cloth out of my mouth.I count in my head, seconds to minutes to hours.Am I counting too fast or too slow?I try to slow down.I feel thirsty and the inside of my mouth feels soft and rotten.My breath must be foul by now, too.我需要水，冰冷的水，從地底深井中汲取出來的大量清水。我完全不覺得餓了。進食會有如吃樹枝或砂礫，然而以高腳玻璃杯盛裝的冰涼清水，杯內的冰塊還會叮噹作響，那一定很過癮。我繼續計數。我一定不能停。 一個小時，二十八分鐘，三十三秒。那總共是幾秒？我試著邊繼續計數邊在腦中核算總數，不過全都搞混了，結果時間忘了，總數也算不出來。淚水汩汩滑落我的臉頰。 我向前挪動，盡可能往前伸展身體，脖子則盡量往後靠，直到絞索勒至我的下巴。我在平台上維持平衡，腰背處的平台邊緣很尖銳，我的下半身懸垂在外。那條繩子想必約有三呎長。我有如蹺蹺板。我可以再摸索著折回，繼續坐著枯等，計數幾秒幾分幾小時，或者我可以在無邊的黑暗中再往前摸索。他會發現我就懸吊在那邊，絞索纏繞在我脖子上。那是打敗他的一種方式。打敗時間。It's that simple. 我向後挪動，移成坐姿，為此費足了勁，全身顫動。我全神貫注於呼吸，吸氣再吐氣。我想起了夢境中那座湖泊，及平靜無波的湖水。我想起了河流及水中的游魚。我想起了綠葉上的黃蝴蝶，牠在葉上晃動，輕盈得宛如周遭的空氣，微風拂過就足以令其隨風飄去。生命亦是如此，我想道，我的生命如今就這麼脆弱。 我叫艾比。艾比嘉兒．黛波露。Abby.我對自己複述我的名字。我設法聽到這聲音大聲地唸出。不過那聲音很快就顯得了無意義。成為艾比有何意義？Meaningless.只是幾個音節拼湊而成。兩個音節。兩口的空氣。 我做了這個夢，我說。我的聲音聽起來沙啞微弱，彷彿氣管已被絞索扯傷了。我睡著並且做了這個夢。你曾做過夢嗎？你會做夢嗎？我在等他時不斷演練這個句子我不想告訴他我的個人隱私，因為那感覺有點冒險。我也不想打聽他的私事，因為我若知道他的底細，他就絕對不會放我走了。我會問起做夢的事，因為那是私事但也很抽象；感覺上它們很重要，不過它們的意義曖昧不明又不切實際。可如今，他在我身邊時我大聲說出這句話，聽起來有點愚不可及。 Occasionally.把水喝完，然後去用那個桶子。 你昨晚做夢了嗎？我繼續追問，雖然我知道那無濟於事。他離我只有幾吋，我只要一伸手就可以觸碰到他。我壓抑住想要揪著他大吼大叫及哀求他的衝動。 沒睡覺就不會做夢。 你沒睡覺？ drink. 我又喝了幾口，盡可能讓水撐久一點。我的喉嚨疼痛。已經過了一夜，然而他整晚沒睡。他在做些什麼？ 你失眠？我設法表現出惻隱之心；我的口氣聽起來矯揉造作到不行。 廢話，他說。工作後若需要睡覺就睡。無論是白天或晚上。that's all. 頭套間隙透出微細的光點。我若將頭抬高，再往下瞄，或許可以瞟到什麼。他雙腿伸直在我的腿旁邊，一手擺在平台上。我絕對不能看。我絕對什麼都不能看到。我絕對什麼都不可以知道。我必須繼續待在黑暗中。 我做運動。我將膝蓋提高再放下。五十次。我躺下來試著做仰臥起坐。I can't do it.一次都沒辦法。 單獨被囚禁的人通常會發瘋。我讀過這類的故事。我必定想像過單獨被關會是什麼情景。有時候他們會對自己朗誦詩歌，但我什麼詩都不會唸，就算會我也一首都記不得。我記得一些童謠，<瑪莉有隻小綿羊>、<山胡桃樹羊蹄草>，朗朗上口的順口溜聽起來有點惹人厭又瘋狂，像是有人在我疼痛不已的頭殼內，敲敲打打。我可以自己作一首詩。什麼和漆黑押韻？草莓、貴妃、夜光杯。我沒辦法作詩。我從來不是寫詩的料。 我再度試著在記憶中回溯不是我長遠的回憶、我今生及親友的回憶，不是讓我成為如今的我的那些點點滴滴，或是像樹幹年輪般的歲月流轉軌跡，不是那些回憶，別去想那些；是最近的回憶，可以讓我知道我是怎麼會置身於此的那些回憶。腦中一片空白。在此時的我及當時的我之間有一道厚牆阻隔。 我在腦中默背九九乘法表。我可以做二乘二至二乘九，以及三乘二至三乘九之類的，但隨後的全都搞混了。一切全都混雜在一起。我又哭了起來。暗自飲泣。 我往前挪移，直至找到懸垂處。我費勁扭動身體成坐姿。此處不致太高。他曾站在我下方將我抱下去。四呎，或許五呎。想必不會更高。我扯動被綁住的雙腳。我深吸一口氣，再往前蠕動幾吋，讓自己像蹺蹺板般懸垂在平台邊。我會數到五，然後往下跳。one two three four 我聽到一道聲響。從房間另一頭傳來的聲音。哮喘般的笑聲。他在看我，像癩蛤蟆般蹲伏在暗處，看著我可憐兮兮地在平台上蠕動。我忍不住哽咽。 好啊，跳嘛。 我往後挪動。 看看妳掉下去後會怎麼樣。 再往後挪動些許。這時雙腿已經回到平台上了。我往後挪抵著牆壁就這麼癱靠著，淚水從我頭套內汩汩滑落雙頰。 有時候我還真喜歡看著妳，他說。妳搞不清楚，對吧？我什麼時候在什麼時候不在。我靜悄悄的，算是吧。 黑暗中的眼睛，注視著我。 what time is it? 喝妳的水。 please.現在還是早上？或是下午？ 那已經沒什麼關係了。 我能不能？ What? What?I don't know either.我該要求什麼？我只是個普通人，我說。我不是好人但也不壞。 每個人都有個極限，他說。重要的是這一點。 沒有人知道如果他們面臨這種事會怎麼辦。Nobody knows.我想著那座湖泊、河流，以及綠葉上的黃蝴蝶。我自己勾勒出一幅圖畫，一棵有銀白樹皮及淺綠樹葉的樹。一株銀色的樺樹。我將之安置於一座綠草如茵的山崗上。我想像著一道微風拂過樹梢，撩撥樹葉使它們閃爍發光彷彿它們是樹枝間的燈火。我在上方再擺上一朵小小的白雲。我是否曾見過這麼一棵樹？I can't remember. 我很冷。 right. 能不能給我一條毯子？讓我有東西蓋。 please. What? 妳必須說拜託。 please.拜託給我一條毯子。 no. 我再度怒不可遏，怒氣強烈到足以令我窒息。我盡力壓抑怒氣。我在頭套內瞪眼、眨眼。我想像著他在注視我，我雙臂被綁在身後坐著，脖子上套著絞索，頭上罩著頭套。我就像一般人在新聞圖片上看到的那些人一樣，被帶進一座廣場中等著由一排槍手處決。不過他看不見我在頭套內的神情。他也無從得悉我在想些什麼。我設法讓口氣顯得不動聲色。 All right.I said. 時間一到，他是否就會傷害我？或者他就這麼聽任我緩緩自生自滅？我不擅長應付疼痛，我一受折磨就會屈打成招，什麼祕密都會和盤托出。這一點我很肯定。但這次情況更慘。他會折磨我而我卻無法阻止他，也沒有什麼消息可以招供。或許他要的是性。在黑暗中壓在我身上，逼我就範。將我的頭套扯下，露出臉孔，取出我口中的塞嘴布，將他的舌頭伸進來，插入他的我猛然搖頭，我的頭痛這時反倒像是一種解脫。 我曾讀過或聽過想要參與反恐空降特種部隊的士兵奉命負重長跑。他們不斷奔跑，最後抵達終點時已幾乎要崩潰了，然後他們奉命再轉身往回跑完全程。你會以為自己已經無法忍受了，不過其實可以。 你的潛能總是比你想像的還要強。深藏不露。我就這麼告訴我自己。我的極限在哪裡？ 我被摑耳光喚醒。我不想醒來。has no meaning?幹嘛醒來？捲縮起身體睡覺就是了。又被摑打了幾下，頭套掀開來，塞嘴布也從我口中扯掉。 醒了沒？ woke up.stop. 我有食物。嘴巴張開。 which kind of food? 那有什麼狗屁關係？ 先喝水。我口渴。 黑暗中傳來嘀咕聲。腳步聲漸行漸遠，往下方消失。還不錯，小勝一回合，稍微掌控了局面。腳步聲又走回來了。吸管插入我口中。我口渴難耐，不過得先將塞在我口中許久的那塊破布的腐臭味去除才行。 嘴巴張開。 一支金屬湯匙伸入我口中，上頭盛著不知什麼軟軟的東西。突然間我腦中浮現一個念頭：我在吃我無法看見的某種東西，從這個打算殺我的人塞入我口中，這念頭令我極度噁心，以致我想像自己在咀嚼生人肉。我開始作嘔也吐了出來。又是一頓咒罵。 操妳的給我吃，否則我就一天不給水。 one day.那倒好。他不打算在今天殺我。 等一下，我說著，做了幾次深呼吸。good. 湯匙在碗內刮動。我感覺到湯匙伸入我口中。我舔舔食物再嚥下。那東西像粥，不過更清淡滑溜也有點甜味，吃起來像是餵食嬰兒的沖泡式糊狀食品。或者可能是仍在復健調養中的病患食用的保健食品，就是在藥房中購買的那類。我想像著口齒不清、眼神呆滯的病患，坐在醫院的病床上，由滿臉不耐煩的護士餵食。我嚥了一口，又塞了更多食物在我口中。一共吃了四口。不是要讓我長胖，只是要讓我存活。我吃完後又用吸管喝了更多水。 布丁？I said. No. I have an idea.一個重要的主意。 我們上次是在什麼時候碰面？ What's the meaning? 我在這裡醒來之後，就頭痛得要命。is it you?You hit me? what do you want妳想耍我是不是？別想耍我。我什麼事都做得出來。 No.I did not mean that.我記得的最後一件事我也不大確定。全都模糊不清。我記得去上班。我記得我本想說我男朋友，但我認為如果那會令他醋意大發的話，或許就不是個好主意。我記得我的住處，正在那裡做什麼事。我在這裡醒來，搞不清楚我是怎麼來的，或我們是怎麼碰面的。我想要你告訴我。 緘默了半晌。我幾乎懷疑他是不是離開了，不過這時傳來一聲嘶噓聲，我霍然發現那是哮喘般的笑聲。 What?I said.What did I say?What? 繼續交談。持續溝通。我一直在思考。思考、思考。思考如何活命，思考要停止感覺，因為我約略知道，若我讓自己可以感覺，則我可能會令自己從斷崖墜入黑暗中。 我看透妳了。He said. 看透我？ 妳戴著頭套。妳無法看到我的臉。妳想耍小聰明。如果妳能讓我認為妳都沒見過我，那麼或許我就會放妳走。又是一陣哮喘般的笑聲。妳躺在那邊時就在想這種事，對吧？妳可曾想過要回到外界？ 我感到滿心悲慟幾乎要哀嚎出聲。不過那也令我思考。那麼說來，我們的確碰過面。他並不只是在黑暗的巷弄裡從背後將我擄走再毆打我頭部。我認識這個人嗎？如果我看到他，能否認出他的長相？他若在正常情況下說話，我能否辨識出他的聲音？ 如果你不相信我，那你再告訴我一次也無妨，對吧？ 破布又塞入我口中。我被抱下來牽到桶子處，再抱回去，重重地放到平台上。沒有綑綁。我將此視為那意味著他不會離開這棟建築物。我感受到他的氣息貼近我的臉，那股氣味。 妳躺在這裡試圖動腦筋想辦法。I like.妳認為如果妳可以讓我相信妳認不出我，我就會陪妳玩一陣子，然後放妳走。妳搞不清楚狀況。妳根本不了解重點。不過我就喜歡這樣。我聆聽他刺耳的低語聲，設法回想那聲音是否似曾相識。她們就不一樣了。就拿凱莉來說吧。例如凱莉，他在口中呢喃著那個名字，彷彿那是一塊太妃糖。她就會哭，操她的哭個沒完。什麼狗屁計畫也沒有，只會哭。能讓她閉嘴真是如釋重負。 別哭，艾比。別惹惱他。別讓他感到厭煩。 那個想法在黑暗中浮現我腦際。他一直讓我活著。我不是說他沒有殺了我。我如今在這房間內已待了兩或三或四天。若幾個星期沒進食還可以存活，不過沒喝水能撐多久？若我只是被鎖在這房間內，無人看管，則我此時已一命嗚呼或奄奄一息了。我大口喝下的水是他的水，我腹內的食物是他的食物。我像是他農場裡的牲畜。我是他的。我對他毫無所知。若離開這房間，到了外界，此人很可能是個愚蠢、醜陋、惹人嫌惡、沒出息的人。他或許太害羞，不敢和女性交談。同事們或許會霸凌他。他或許是縮在角落中那個沉默寡言的怪胎。 然而在這裡，我是他的。他是我的愛人、我的父親、我的上帝。如果他想要進來悄悄將我勒死，他可以辦到。我必須將清醒時的每分每秒都用來思考如何與他周旋，讓他愛我，或喜歡我，或怕我。若他要在殺害一個女性之前先讓她崩潰，則我必須堅強下去。若他因女性對他有敵意而仇視女性，則我必須安撫他。若他會折磨拒絕他的女性，則我必須什麼？接納他？什麼才是明智的抉擇？I don't know. 最重要的是，我絕對不能再認為無論做什麼都無關緊要了。 身上沒綑綁著電纜線我就沒再計數時間了。似乎無所謂了。不過片刻之後他又進來。我感覺得出來他在場。一隻手搭在我肩頭令我嚇了一跳。他莫非是在查看我是否還活著？ 兩個抉擇。我可以在我腦中逃避現實。黃色的蝴蝶。沁涼的水。飲用水。可以縱身躍入的水。我試圖在腦中重建我的世界、我的住處。我走過那些房間，瀏覽牆上的照片，撫觸地毯，逐一列舉架上的物品。我在父母的房子中走動，有些記憶不知何故腦中一片茫然。我父親的花園庫房，泰利書桌的抽屜。儘管如此，腦中仍有許多回憶，形形色色不一而足，在我腦中也在外界。不過有時候當我信步走過這些想像中的房間時，地板會從我腳底下消失，我會往下墜落。這種心理遊戲或許可以讓我的神智維持清醒，但我不能只是神智清醒。我得存活下去。我必須擬訂計畫。我要殺了他。我要傷害他、將他千刀萬剮、將他碎屍萬段。我需要的只是一個機會，只是我看不出來有什麼可能的機會。 我試著想像他其實不曾真的殺了什麼人。他或許只是虛張聲勢想恫嚇我。我無法說服自己這一點。他並非只是在打一通騷擾電話。我在這裡，在這個房間內。他不需要捏造什麼故事。我對這個男人一無所知，不過我知道他以前曾做過同樣的事。他已駕輕就熟，掌控全局。而我則處境堪虞，生機渺茫，故而我能想出來的計畫不見得必須萬無一失。但我想不出任何有可能成功的計畫。我唯一的計畫就是採取緩兵之計，不過我甚至無法知道我是否真能拖延。我有一種恐怖的感覺另一個恐怖的感覺，我的感覺全都令人膽顫心驚亦即這一切全都在他的時間表中。所有的交談，我微不足道的計畫及策略，聽在他耳中只是噪音，就像是在他頭邊盤繞的蚊子嗡嗡叫聲。待他準備就緒，就會一巴掌打死牠。 Why are you doing this? What? why me?我對你做了什麼事？ 又是一陣哮喘般的笑聲。又是一塊破布塞進我口中。 再度做抬膝運動。我頂多只能做十六下。我的情況愈來愈糟。雙腿疼痛，雙臂酸疼。 why me?我設法讓自己不要問這個問題卻不由自主。我曾在報紙或電視上看過遇害女子的照片。不過不是被謀殺時的照片。幾乎沒見過那種。不，我看過的是她們以為生活還會一切如常的照片。我想應該是她們的家人總是挑最美、笑容最燦爛的照片交給電視台。或許都是從高中畢業紀念冊上挑出來的。不過這些照片都比原來尺寸放大許多倍，以致看來模糊朦朧，有股令人毛骨悚然的感覺。她們不知道自己會有何下場，我們則很清楚。我們不像她們。 我無法相信自己也會成為她們之中的一個。泰利會從我的照片中挑出一張。或許是我去年辦護照時拍的那張呆頭呆腦的照片，照片中的我看起來像是有什麼東西跑進我一隻眼睛裡，而我同時又聞到什麼惡臭似的。他會將之交給警方，他們會將照片放大因此看來模糊朦朧，我也會因遇害而名聞全國，這實在太不公平了。 我逐一回想我認識的薄命女子。包括莎蒂，她懷孕將近八個月時，在耶誕節前一個月被她男友甩了。還有瑪麗，她曾多次進出醫院做化療，一直戴著頭巾。勞倫斯前年精簡人事時，將菠琳和麗茲解雇。他在一個星期五傍晚眾人皆離去後告知她們，我們星期一早上進公司時才發現她們已經離職了。六個月後麗茲仍為此事一把鼻涕一把眼淚。她們都比我還要幸運。過幾天她們就會知道了。她們會聽說此事，也會因此暗自慶幸。她們會以薄薄的一層最深摯的同情來掩飾興奮之情，並告訴親友及同事：妳認得艾比．黛波露那個女的嗎？就是報上登的那個。I know her.我真難以置信。她們都會大感震驚，她們也會偷偷告訴自己，或許她們各有一本難唸的經，不過至少她們不是艾比．黛波露。謝天謝地遭天打雷殛的是她而不是她們。 然而我就是艾比．黛波露，這實在很不公平。 他進來將絞索套在我脖子上。我這次打算要計數時間了。我一直在思考此事，擬訂計畫。我要部如何避免自己計數時間時搞混了？我研擬出一套計畫。一分鐘有六十秒，一小時有六十分，亦即三千六百秒。我就想像自己從一座以甲這個字開頭的城鎮開始爬山。這座山有三千六百棟房子，我每經過一棟房子就數一下。不過，我想不出任何以甲這個字開頭的城鎮。沒關係，就用甲鎮。我從甲鎮往山上走。一、二、三、四當我走到甲鎮的山頂時，我接著再從乙鄉開始。然後是丙鎮，接著是丁鄉、戊鎮、己鄉，然後，當我走到庚鎮的半山腰時，他又回到房內了，絞索從我脖子上移開。六個半小時。 置身於洞內就別再挖。及時的一針勝過九針。別杞人憂天。別尚未過河就先燒了橋。沒記錯吧，是兩座橋？還有什麼諺語？想、想、想。It's hard to get overwhelmed.三思而後行。三個和尚沒水喝，人多好辦事，勿孤注一擲，物以類聚，一葉落尚不成秋。入夜紅遍天，牧者樂翻天。我的快樂。然而若清晨紅遍天，牧者憂變天。一個男人要走過多少條道路，才能？不對，那扯太遠了。那是歌詞。歌詞不是諺語。要怎麼哼？我試著回想，在腦中播放音樂，在這死寂的漆黑中聆聽那聲音。In vain. 景象比較簡單。綠葉上的黃蝴蝶。別飛走。一條河，水中有魚。一座水質清澈潔淨的湖泊。一座平緩的山丘上有棵銀白色的樹，樹葉在微風中搖曳生姿。what else?there is none left.Nothing at all.我太冷了。 Hello.我在期待你能早點來。 妳的水沒喝完。 不急，是吧？我有好多事情要問你。 He grunted.我在發抖，不過或許是因為太冷了。我已無法想像暖和、乾淨，或自由。 我是說，我們兩人在此獨處。我們應該相互認識，相互交談。他悶不吭聲。我無法判斷他是否在聽。我吸了一口氣繼續說：畢竟，你挑上我總該有個理由才是。你似乎是個講理的人，對吧？你是個做事合乎邏輯的人，我想。我喜歡這一點。合乎邏輯。邏輯這個字眼妥當嗎？聽起來似乎不大對勁。 go on.He said. go on.good.接下來該說些什麼？我的嘴唇上方有個酸痛處。我以舌尖舔觸，感覺像是凍傷了。或許我已遍體皆是酸痛瘀青。That's right.合乎邏輯。刻意地。wrong.肯定是說錯了話。try again.果斷的。你是一個堅強的人。Right?默不作聲。我可以聽到他濃重的呼吸聲。That's right.我想我說對了。男人應該很堅強，不過很多男人很軟弱。a lot of.我重複說了一次。不過我想你也很孤單。人們無法理解你的期望。不是，是你的能力。我是說能力，不是期望。你孤單嗎？不過那有如朝一口深井投入石頭。這些愚不可及的話從我口中說出，然後消失於黑暗中。或是你喜歡孤單？ Maybe. 不過我們都需要有人來愛我們，我說。沒有人能全然孤單。為了存活，我什麼事都願意做，我想。我會讓他擁抱我，搞我，我甚至會裝得樂在其中。只要能活下去，什麼事都做得出來。你挑上我而不是別人，想必是有理由的。 妳想聽聽我怎麼想嗎？Um?want to hear it?他一手擺在我大腿上。他的手上下遊走。 think.tell me.噢，可別讓我作嘔也別尖叫出聲。 我想妳對妳此刻看起來是什麼模樣毫無概念。他又發出哮喘般的笑聲。妳以為可以跟我打情罵俏，嗯？就這麼將我套牢，拿我當傻瓜？不過妳對自己看起來是什麼模樣毫無概念，甜心。妳看起來根本不像是人。妳連臉都沒有。妳看起來像一個一個東西，或是一隻動物。而且妳還很臭。妳身上有屎尿味。他再度笑出聲來。他擺在我大腿上的手用力了些，然後開始使勁捏我，我既痛又羞恥地大叫出聲。 艾比，那麼努力地嘗試。he whispered.凱莉只會哭，艾比努力試。我可以把妳編成順口溜。哭，試，死。反正到頭來結果都一樣。 哭，試，死。又在黑暗中唸順口溜。時間愈來愈急迫了。I know this.我腦中浮現一個沙漏，沙子平穩地流入其中。若你盯著它看，在快結束時沙子看起來似乎總會流得比較快。 他又將我抱下平台。我的腳趾如遭針扎般刺麻，我的腿則似乎已不再屬於我了。雙腿僵硬有如樹枝，或者不是樹枝，而像是隨時會折斷的嫩枝。我踉踉蹌蹌步履蹣跚，他緊抓著我的臂膀，讓我站直。他的手指掐入我的肉中。或許會留下瘀痕，上方四個指印，下方一個。我可以判定有光線，頭套內是暗灰色而不是全黑。他拖著我一路往前走，然後說：坐。桶子。 他沒花時間替我的手腕鬆綁。他將我的褲子脫下。我感覺到他的雙手觸碰著我的肌膚。I do not care.我坐下來，感覺到我下方及臀部後方的金屬桶緣。我將手指纏繞在桶緣上，設法平靜地呼吸。我上完後站起身來，他又將我的褲子拉上。這時褲子穿在我身上鬆垮垮的。我踢了那個桶子一腳，踢飛了。我聽到桶子撞到他的腿翻倒在地。他悶哼了聲，我朝悶哼聲的方向盲目衝撞了過去，口中塞著破布仍盡可能大叫出聲。聽起來不像在大叫，而是低沉的咕噥聲。我朝他撞過去，不過卻像撞在一面硬牆上。他抬起一隻臂膀擋住我，我仰頭頂撞他的下巴。我的頭疼痛不已；我的眼睛後方一片通紅。 噢，他說了聲。然後他揍我，又揍了我一拳。他揪住我的肩頭，然後一拳揍入我的腹部。噢，艾比。He said. 我坐在平台上。我什麼地方疼痛？My whole body hurts.我已搞不清身上的哪個部位在何處。我的頭痛止於何處而我的脖子痛又從何處開始；我雙腿的冰冷在何處變成身軀的冰冷；我口中的酸臭味在何處變成我喉嚨的膽汁及我胃部的作嘔；我耳中的嗡嗡聲在何處變成我周遭的一片沉寂。我試著放鬆腳趾卻無能為力。我將十指交纏。哪隻手指是我的右手而哪隻是左手？ 我再度試著背九九乘法表。我連二乘二到二乘九都背不全。怎會如此？二乘幾連小朋友都會的。小朋友在課堂上大聲朗誦。我可以在腦中聽到這朗誦聲，不過聽起來毫無意義。 我知道些什麼？我知道我是艾比。我知道我二十五歲。我知道外頭是寒冬。我也知道其他事情。黃色加藍色變成綠色，像藍色的夏季海洋與黃色的沙交會。貝殼沖刷粉碎後變成沙。沙融化後可製成玻璃；高腳玻璃杯裡的水，冰塊叮噹作響。樹木可用來造紙。剪刀、石頭、布。八度音階有八個音。一分鐘有六十秒，一小時有六十分，一天有二十四小時，一個星期有七天，一年有五十二個星期。三十天的月分包括九月、四月、六月及十一月不過我沒辦法數完。 我絕對不能睡著。然而我還是睡著了，做了個似睡似醒、囈語連連的夢。然後我猛然驚醒，因為他就在我身旁。這次沒有光線，也沒有水。一開始他悶不吭聲，不過我可以聽到他的呼吸聲，然後他開始在黑暗中咕噥低語。 凱莉。凱絲。馥蘭。賈兒。洛琳。 我靜靜坐著，文風不動。 凱莉。凱絲。馥蘭。賈兒。洛琳。 那是含糊不清的嗡嗡聲。他一再重複那五個名字，我就這麼坐著，頭稍向前傾，彷彿仍在睡覺。淚水滑落我的臉頰，不過他看不見。淚水令我刺痛。我想像著淚水一路滑落我的肌膚所形成的淚痕，有如蝸牛爬過的液痕。銀白色。 然後他起身離去，我繼續在黑暗中默默飲泣。 drink. 我喝了。 eat. 又吃了四湯匙的甜粥。 桶子。 我的名字是艾比。艾比嘉兒．黛波露。求求你救救我，有人嗎？please. 沒有人會來救我。 黃蝴蝶。綠葉。請別飛走。 他將絞索套在我脖子的動作，幾乎可以稱得上溫柔體貼。這是第三次，或是第四次？ 我感覺到他的手指在我的脖子上檢查位置。如果我一直在想著他，想必我也一直在他腦中。他對我有何感覺？那是一種愛嗎？或者他像是養豬人對待在宰殺前必須豢養的豬？我想像著再過一或兩天，他會進來像是在從事一項累人的工作般，將我脖子上的絞索勒緊，或將我割喉。 他一走，我就再度開始計數。這次我採用的是國名。我在甲國沿著一條陽光普照的炎熱街道數房子。我到乙國行經一條蜿蜒的中古巷弄時開始下起雨來。到丙國時又豔陽高照。丁國一片嚴寒。戊國狂風大作。然後在己國一條林蔭大道第二三五一號時，我聽到外頭的關門聲及腳步聲。他離去大約五小時又四十分鐘。比上次短了些。他對我感到焦慮。或者他離開的時間會隨機變動。What does that matter? 又用湯匙餵我吃了些粥。不像上次那麼多。我不