lukewest

A day to remember

I sit anxiously waiting for the door in front of me to open. My legs are shaking and my head is aching. I must think positive and put on a brave face for when they arrive.
I’m a 40-year-old woman with a fantastic husband, and three children. They are all boys, aged five, seven, and eleven. I work as a receptionist at the local medical centre, and my partner works as a school teacher, and helps out at my uncle’s farm every Saturday. We have a mortgage the size of a swimming pool, and we are up to our armpits in debt. We don’t let our troubles interfere with our lives unless it’s absolutely necessary. We both work extremely hard and therefore miss out on the social side of life we have always wanted. Apart from family we really only have Jennifer and Jonathon as close friends. We met them during our only family holiday in Fiji. We meet up once a week for a BBQ. After knowing them for two years we are well aware of their family’s fighting on a continuous basis. Jennifer and Jonathon are trying for there first baby, and we are very excited for them.
I awake suddenly and turn to my alarm clock. It’s 5:30am on 9th February, and time to get ready for another day at work. I turn to wake my husband and realise he is not there. This is unusual, I think to myself. I leave the bedroom and enter the lounge room, expecting to see David reading the paper and eating breakfast by the television. I turn my head, no David. I notice the car still in the garage but the front door is open; expecting him to be outside I see nothing but the kookaburras eating scraps from last night’s dinner.
I continue organising myself for work, hoping David went for an early-morning stroll along the walking tracks about 2km away from the house. Before I know it, it is 6:30am and time to wake the boys and organise them for school. We only have a small house so my two oldest boys, Jack and Thomas, share a room, leaving our youngest boy Riley in his own room. I awake Jack and Thomas and listen to them whinge and wine about having to go to school.
Time for round three, I say to myself, and go to wake Riley, but he isn’t in bed. I start to panic. It isn’t like David or Riley to get up before me.
As Jack and Thomas prepare themselves for school I start wondering how I’m going to get in contact with them both. They have vanished, as if they never existed. I
wish David carried a mobile phone, I think to myself, as I wonder what to do next.
I yell out to the boys, “Thomas, look after your brother for a few minutes, I’m going for a quick drive to see if I can find David and Riley.”
As I go to grab the car keys, the phone rings like a scene from a scary movie. I pick the phone up. “Hello, hello, is anyone there?” I only hear crackling noises, but before I hang up I hear a young boy screaming in the background. This scream sounds like Riley.
“Riley, is that you? Riley, answer me!” I begin to cry as Jack and Thomas come to investigate the unusual sounds. The phone call cuts off. I wipe away the tears, and come to my senses, realising I’m probably exaggerating.
My youngest son starts to cry. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” I whisper in his ear. “Mummy is just playing a silly game.” I don’t want to alarm the kids before school. “Go get yourselves buckled up in the car, boys, Mummy won’t be a second.”
As the boys head to the car I worry about what to do next. Is calling the police going overboard? And what would I say to them? These are the thoughts racing through my head.
* * *
“I’m a 37-year-old woman who has been left to fend for myself from age 14. After that my life took another turn for the worse when I was raped on my fifteenth birthday. I have a sickness, and the actions I take no longer surprise me. I had a car accident when I was younger. I received severe internal body injuries, which were the cause of my hysterectomy at age 23. I always wanted a child of my own. I was never believed when telling people that I sat outside schools watching parents pick up their children, and was often tempted to just grab one, as if taking an apple off a tree.” As I look over to my psychologist I notice her writing notes continuously.

* * *

My name is Sally, and I’m Jennifer’s psychologist. Jennifer is a lady who cares for no one, including herself. She has been in many mental institutions around Australia, and is classified as a dangerous woman. These are just a few of the paragraphs I have sent in writing to the Mental Health Unit of Queensland.

* * *
I decide to drive the children to school, and upon returning to my home if David and Riley aren’t in there I shall call the police. When driving back into the driveway I notice an envelope stuck to the door. The envelope says ‘The woman of the house’. I peel the envelope open faster than rain falling from the sky. The letter clearly reads:

To the woman of the house,
You have had your turn, let me have mine. If you make the call to the authorities you will be a single woman forever.

I am confused but concerned at the same time. Is this a joke? I think the risk is too great, and decide to contact the police anyway. They are very understanding but are not concerned as of yet. I cannot declare them missing until 24 hours have passed. The children stayed at my parents’ place that night, as I don’t want them to see the pain I’m going through.
Whilst all this drama is happening I receive a dramatic phone call from Jennifer. She has had a huge fight with Jonathon and they have split up.
“What was the fight over?” I ask her.
“Mainly because we both work full time and have no time to see each other, and this whole pregnancy thing doesn’t want to happen.”
I decide not to tell Jennifer what is happening in my life yet, as she has enough worries of her own to think about.

* * *
I awake to the sounds of a young child crying. I try and sit up but find myself restrained in a bed. I start to panic. The surrounding environment is not at all familiar. I turn my head to see my son Riley tied to a computer seat. A lady wearing a balaclava emerges from the dark room and says quietly, “Carry on, Riley, don’t be scared. I’m your new Mummy and Mummy wants you to play on the computer. Daddy is having a midday sleep before he takes his class on an afternoon day trip.”
I don’t know this lady—have we been kidnapped? I try and scream but the tape over my mouth keeps me quiet.
“We are all a family now, and when I untie you both we are going to act like one. If we don’t you will both be punished.” She adjusts her head so her eyes meet mine. “You be a good husband, and don’t do anything to upset your wife,” she says to me in an evil voice. “If you try anything stupid, I will do something real stupid with your real wife.” She tears the tape off from around my mouth.
“Where is my wife?” I scream at her.
“All in good time,” she repeats several times to me.
Before untying my arms and legs she turns to my son and says softly, as if someone is next door, “Time to turn the game off now, sweetie, it’s bed time, and you have school in the morning.” Riley cries and I scream as she wheels Riley on the chair into another room.
She turns once again to me and says, “You don’t want darling Riley to be hurt, do you? Let that be a warning so you don’t do anything stupid.”
She unties me, and I sit up slowly.
“Here is the plan,” she says to me. “We, as a family, will move far away, and start a new life. We leave tomorrow.”
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing?” I scream at this wild woman.
“All in good time,” she whispers again. “It’s time for me to make us a light dinner now, so sit tight, and don’t try anything.” As she laves the room I hear the door lock. I’m confused and it’s obvious I have to do something, but what? What am I going to do? I curse to myself.
* * *
The sun is rising and it has been exactly 24 hours since I David and Riley disappeared. I head to the police station.

* * *
I listen to the screams of Riley as if he is being tortured. I start to cry when I realise there is nothing I can do to help.
My case has now been handed on to the Missing Persons Unit. I tell them everything I know, but they fear it isn’t enough.

* * *
A few minutes later I listen to the car start. I feel this is my only chance to escape. I look around and don’t notice any easy escape methods. I look to the ceiling and notice an air conditioning vent. I push the bed directly below the vent and slam it hard with the palm of my hand. I pull myself into the ceiling and crawl through the roof in search of my son. I yell out in hopes of receiving an answer, but I hear nothing. I start to think horrible thoughts. Has she taken my son with her? I look through the air conditioning vent that leads into the lounge room and notice Riley still tied to the computer chair. His mouth is still tied with masking tape. I push the air conditioning vent through and take the 2m plunge onto the hard concrete floor. Riley looks into my eyes with relief. I untie him. He dives into my arms and hugs me. I know this is only half of the escape plan.
We hear the sounds of a car re-entering the driveway. We both carefully peer out the curtains in hopes of seeing a police car; instead we see her. I pick up Riley and tell him not to panic. I lift him up into the vent and tell him to remain calm. I jump up and painfully pull myself into the ceiling. We place the air conditioning vent back over the gap, and watch her enter the lounge room anxiously.
Straight away she notices that Riley is not in the lounge room. She races into the spare bedroom and realises we have escaped. As she starts screaming at the top of her voice I notice the air conditioning vent still on the floor of the bedroom where I was tied up. I pray that she doesn’t see it.
A few minutes later my fear turns to reality: she notices the bed out of place, and her eyes find the vent which was left on the floor.
“You bloody idiots!” she screams. “So you think hiding in the roof is going to stop our happy family from starting a new life? You fools.”
I know that I have no time to panic, and realise I have a few minutes—if that—to come up with plan B. She exits the room and comes back with a chair, and a large chopping knife from the kitchen. She is coming in—what am I going to do? I think to myself. “If we climb into the roof, we can escape through the roof,” I whisper quietly.
Riley looks at me in confusion. “Help me—quickly,” I whisper to Riley as I start to remove the roof tiles. She has managed to get the air conditioning vent off of the ceiling. I pick Riley up and place him through the roof onto the tiles above. I pull myself through. The house is high from the ground, I realise, as I worry to myself about what to do next.
“The pool!” I scream to Riley. “We are going to jump—don’t be scared.
“No!” he screams at me.
“No time to argue, Riley.” I pick him up and without hesitation we jump off the roof into the pool. I’m so relieved that it has worked. I look to the roof, and don’t see the crazy woman. We swim to the edge and pull ourselves out of the pool like drowned dogs. We run around the outside of the house, and still there is no sign of the woman. We hop inside her car. The keys are still in it. We start the car and reverse onto the main road. I feel relieved, like it is all over. But little do I realise this is just the beginning.
In the rear vision mirror I see another car coming up fast from behind us. “Buckle up,” I say to Riley. This could get nasty, I think to myself. We are on the highway, as she drives up beside us. I turn to my left in an attempt to drive her off the road. It looks like I have caught her by surprise. She is now only seconds behind me. I notice a road sign that reads ‘Police next exit’. I speed up with excitement. I race up the exit and take an illegal turn to get to the police station more quickly. She knows what I’m doing and gives it one last attempt. She races up beside me and slams into the side of the car. We skid onto the footpath, but I manage to steer the car back onto the road without any difficulties. I pull into the police station and honk the horn. She reverses her car and speeds off.
A police officer comes running out to attend to the problem. I turn to Riley. “It’s over now.” He starts to cry in relief.
After telling our story, the police tell us that my wife has created a missing person’s report. We look at each other with joy in our eyes. “Come this way, and we can take you to the bathroom, where you can get cleaned up.”
As I head for the bathroom I watch the police officers busily making phone calls, and typing fast on the computers. “Will the police get the lady?” Riley says to me softly.
“Of course they will,” I say back.
* * *
The phone rings. I race over and receive the brilliant news. “I’m on my way,” I say to the young constable.
* * *
I arrive at the front desk of the police station, and I’m told to take a seat while they retrieve my husband and my son. I’m so nervous, and I pray that they are not injured.
I sit anxiously awaiting for the door in front of me to open. My legs are shaking, and my head is aching. I must think positive and put on a brave face for when they arrive.
David and Riley arrive at the front desk and I start to cry in relief. The police still wish to speak with both David and Riley before they leave. After I listen to them explain their story to the police officers, and the way they explain this woman’s characteristics, “It was Jennifer!” I yell across the police station.

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