The Tombstone

Alone

***
"Stephanie, aren't you going to answer your father?" My mother asked me again as I looked back and forth from one than the other. I was confused, and they both could tell.
Who was this man?
This was certainly not my father.
My father was dead, this must be a stepdad or something.
But how would I not know about him?
A boyfriend of my mother's perhaps?
"Who are you?" I spoke to the strange man that was sitting by the kitchen table. My mum's kitchen table. The one she had her eyes on for the longest time in the catalog before she actually purchased it.
They both gave me funny looks as they turned their attention towards each other, then back to me.
"I'm your father honey. Are you feeling ok?" The strange man asked me as he gave me a very concerned look.
Why was he the one looking concerned?
I should be the one concerned.
Concerned that my mother was loosing it and trying to make me believe this man was my father.
As if!
"No. You are not my father. My father is dead. Who are you?" I spoke in a serious voice, because I was being serious. They looked back at each other, with a very strange look. A look I wasn't too sure of. A look I didn't know how to explain.
Maybe the look of knowledge?
I didn't know.

***

Steph was awoken from her deep sleep in the middle of the night. Confused again about the dream she had. She had had the same dream, over and over. Ever since she was taken. But, except for it repeating the same thing over again, it would only pick up from where it left off. When she woke up. She often slept very deeply, causing her to have such dreams. Sometimes so deep that even a loud noise could not wake her up. But each time she had it, she never gave it much thought. The only thought she had on the subject was maybe she missed her father so much. Although, when she was younger and was in high stressful situations, or at least some stress in her life, she always had dreams of her father. The man she never knew; and would never get to know. Never knowing what he was truly like; for her mother never talked about him. And even if she did, she could easily be lying. But, when she would be going through something at small ages, with no doubt, she would have at least one dream of her father. Whether it be him saying she would get through it, or perhaps he would be saying he was always close by, close by to watch over her and would always be with her. Although every dream of him he looked different, she always knew that was her father. The man in her dreams. She had that feeling; the feeling of familiarity and safeness. Something she craved sometimes, like in the moments she was in now.

She sat up in her bed, which laid on the old, wooden floor, under the thick comforter, watching the window to her right. The bars still rounded the edge, the strong steel bolted down to it. No matter how much she tried to loosen them, they would not budge. She didn't think they would, but still, deep down inside her she had that dim light of hope. But it seemed to always become distinguished eventually.

  She had been there for weeks by now, although she didn't exactly know how long. She lost track long ago. The only way she kept track of time was the window; depending on if it was day or night. Her room was above ground; something she thought was strange. Usually, she though, when someone is kidnapped, they are kept in a basement. Not just locked up in a room. A room with a window where anyone could peer inside and see a young girl trapped. But she hardly thought of anyone seeing her. For they were in the middle of the woods, where the cabin belonged. Perhaps a hunter would come across, but in their town they had strict hunting laws. Most hunters wouldn't be along for miles. Unless we were miles away. Unless, perhaps, I was out cold for awhile on the day he took me away, and he drove for miles at a time. What if we weren't even in our town anymore. What if we were two hours away. Or three. Or four? What if? What if!
Stop!
She quickly got ahold of herself, something she had been doing for awhile now. Every now and then, her thoughts would carry her away. Sometimes into dark places of her mind, where the scary and unspeakable thoughts lived. And other times, not often, but sometimes they took her to the happier places, where she saw her mother again. But her mind rarely took her there. It mostly took her to the dark places, when it spoke of things such as you will never be free, and you will never see your mother again. You will die here, surrounded by an unloving stranger who seemed to be everywhere. In a locked room in the middle of a forest, perhaps not even in the same town. You will be lost forever, and will never be found.
Her mind would eventually snap back into action, realizing how far it had taken her. The snap would make a stop noise, as it yelled at the dark place she was in at that moment. And then, at some points, the happier thoughts would come, and her mother's face would come rushing back to her. She enjoyed those times. However other times, she would be brought back to her reality she was in, stuck in the locked room.