15 years ago my daughter was kidnapped and murdered. Today, she called me.



//Story contains themes of sexual violence.

She used to be the sweetest girl. Our little Abbie. When my wife got pregnant I did the chauvinistic thing and bragged to my friends I was having a son. He was going to be a pro football player, or baseball. No, he was going to be an astronaut or a cowboy or a space cowboy! Unfortunately Maurice was never born, instead we got Abigail. Our sweet little girl. At that moment all my chauvinism went away, and I wanted nothing more than to spoil my little angel. I didn’t care about anything else but her happiness. Whether she was famous or rich, it didn’t matter. She was my little girl and I was going to take care of her.

As you can imagine, Abbie grew up spoiled. Anything she wanted, she got. For the first ten years of her life she was the happiest little girl in the world. I quit my job and became a stay at home dad. I got to spend all day with her, it was everything I could ever want. We did everything together. We had breakfast together, bathed together and did errands together. There wasn’t a moment in our day we weren’t together. My wife didn’t mind, she had made her success as a lawyer years ago. Sometimes I think she was more excited about the idea than I was. Her firm needed her and she was able to be there without feeling guilty. By the end of it, she was sure it was her idea to begin with! I didn’t mind her taking the credit though, it made it easier to get what I wanted when she thought she was in charge, and if things went bad she’d be the one feeling guilty. 

Until one day, I lost track of Abbie at the grocery store. I swear I only walked away for a minute! By the time I got back she was gone. I looked everywhere for her, when I couldn’t find her I started to worry. I asked the employees but they couldn’t find her either. We checked outside and in my car. The back, the freezer, everywhere we could think of. Eventually we had to call the police. They closed the store down and evacuated the customers. We searched the store for hours. When the officers checked the security cameras, there was nothing. The camera’s didn’t see anything and no one came forward as a witness. A few days later they found her sweater in a creek. It was soaked in blood. The police were able to determine it was indeed her blood. It didn’t take long after that for the police to pronounce her dead, and the search died off. This shattered me, I didn’t sleep or eat for days. I refused to believe my little girl was gone! My wife couldn’t look at me anymore, it was less than a week before she moved out. She went easy on me in the divorce, considering she’s a lawyer. I got to keep the house, she got the cars. I didn’t care, I didn’t want to leave. I had nowhere to be and no longer needed a reason to leave the house. I was staying in here as much as I could.

The next few years were a blur. I spent most of my days inside my house but eventually had to start working again. I only needed enough money for food and supplies so I got a job as a janitor at the local elementary school. Being around the kids reminded me of little Abbie, and by day I could imagine all the things we could do together and all the games we’d play. Then I’d leave and lock myself inside my home. There was nothing outside that I needed.

This became the norm for 15 years, until one day I got a phone call. I had never disconnected the landline, I never felt the energy to deal with all that. It was rare to receive calls, occasionally I’d get a telemarketer or a scammer trying to get my credit card. Except this time, there was a woman on the other line. “Hello? Daddy is that you?” the voice said.

“Hello? Who is this” I asked. “I think you have the wrong number.”

“No dad! Please don’t hang up.” the woman pleaded. “It’s me…Abigail…dad I’m alive”. I felt like time had stopped, my heart felt like it was going to explode out the front of my chest. There was a ringing in my ears, I had to sit down before I passed out.

“Dad are you there?” the woman asked.

“This…this isn’t funny. Who ever this is you have a sick sense of humor!” I yelled into the phone.

“No dad, this isn’t a joke. It’s me Abbie. I’m alive.” she urged.

I knew this couldn’t be true, this was someone trying to use my daughter to scam me! It had to be, it was impossible.

“Whoever this is, don’t call again.” I said into the phone.

“You used to read me The Giving Tree before bed every night…daddy it’s me.” The woman said. It sounded as if she was crying. How could she have known that? It was Abbie’s favorite book, I read it to her almost every night. No one but me, her and her mother knew that.

“How did you know that?” I said. The ringing in my ears had returned. I was sweating.

“Because it’s me dad. I’m alive, I’m free. Please, I can tell you everything. Right now I’m coming home.” she said, definitely crying now.

“Baby…I can’t believe it, after all these years. I thought you were dead, where have you been?” I asked.

“I will explain everything soon dad, I’m on my way to our hold house now.” the woman said.

“Right now?! How?” I asked.

“It’s complicated daddy, but we’ll be together soon again. I have to go now. Please wait for me. I will be there in a few hours. I love you.” She said, before the line went dead.

“Abigail? Abigail!?” I yelled into the phone. “I love you too” I whispered.

I needed to prepare things, I only had a few hours and there was a lot to be done. I needed to make up a bed, and clear out space for her. She will need to have somewhere to sleep tonight and I want her to be comfortable. I spent the next few hours setting everything up, this was the beginning of something new. I was excited, after all these years there would be some change. I would break out of this monotonous lifestyle I had become trapped in. This was a new beginning.

About two and a half hour later a car pulled up to the front of the house. A tall women stood out, it was hard to make out her face from the window, she had strawberry blonde hair like Abigail did. When she got to the door I swung it open before she could even knock. There she stood, the spitting image of my little girl. I was at a loss for words. She had tears in her eyes and without a word she hugged me. I hugged her back, squeezing her tight. She was a beautiful woman, a site to behold. She seemed fit and healthy. A muscular feminine built, who would make any man’s dreams come true. I asked her to come inside.

“Oh dad, it’s been years. The house looks the same, nothing has changed. I’ve missed you so much.” She said. I was still too dumbfounded, I could barely speak. It was all so much for me to take in. “Where did you come from?” was all I was able to say. “It’s such a long story dad, and I hate reliving it. Can we just catch up please? I’m starving, can I see my old room?” She was excited, like a little girl in a toy store. She seemed to be reliving her childhood in her mind.

We sat down on the couch and she told me the story of where she’d been for the past 15 years. Apparently an employee of the store had lead her away and out through the back. She said by the time she realized she was in danger, she was already in the mans trunk. She spent the next few years travelling state to state with this man, constantly on the run and living in motels. She had tears in her eyes when she told me how he raped her. Kept her as his own personal sex slave and made her do the most degrading things. All I could do was listen in silence. After 13 years she was able to escape. The man had started shooting heroine, and one night he went into a catatonic state. She said she didn’t know if he overdosed, and she didn’t care. She got as much of her stuff as she could and what little money she had and bolted. She claims she spent the next year living on the streets, trying to find a way home. She finally made it back and the first thing she did was call me. It was an amazing story, and I admit I even started to believe it. Excited of what she would say next. She had survived such an ordeal, and made it out the other end.

However I knew that was impossible. Whoever this woman was, she had done her research and whatever scam she was running must be worth it. I have no idea how she got the information she had, but I knew she’d soon tell me. Whatever scam she was running, I wasn’t falling for it and she would regret ever trying to use my little girl against me.

“Honey, I’m so sorry all that happened to you…I should have been paying more attention” I said. “It’s not your fault daddy, I’m just so glad to be home.” she replied “Is my old room still the same, I’m so tired I just want to sleep.”

“Oh, yes dear your room is still there. But the linen is stored in the basement. Come down with me and we’ll make your bed up.” I said making my way to the basement door. I opened the door for her and ushered her through. As soon as she was on the first step I shoved her. She fell hard, but I knew it wasn’t enough to break anything. I had set up a mattress at the bottom of the stairs so she’d have a soft landing. I rushed down and bound her hands together with the rope I left on the rail. Before she knew what was happening she was bound and gagged and being dragged deeper into my basement.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re a sick fuck for trying to use a man’s daughter to get to him.” I yelled. “However I can respect a sick fuck. You know how they say a fisherman can always spot another fisherman?” I asked as she struggled to get free. “Well let’s just say I’ve been fishing for years.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t go through this alone. You’ll have company.” I said as I opened the door to the cell I had built down there all those years ago. I tossed her inside next to her cellmate.

“Wake up sweetheart, daddy brought you a friend.” I said, as the other figure started getting up. “You two will be very happy together, and now you’ll have someone to share your duties with honey.” I laughed. “Daddy please, don’t do this! I love you, let me go!” my daughter pleaded as I shut the door in front of her.

Yes, the beginning of something new. 15 years of sex with the same person can get stale. No matter how much you experiment, or how many different toys you try. That’s why me and my wife stopped having sex after Abigail was born. By that point we were bored of each other. Thank God for my little girl though, always willing to make daddy happy. Now having a friend for little Abbie will surely spice things up. Plus now my little girl will have someone to talk to, like the sister she always wanted. I did say I’d always take care of her. I headed to bed, excited for what was to come. There was no need to ever leave this house, I had everything I needed right there in my basement.

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