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Camila felt wet.
Well that doesn’t make sense, Camila thought to herself. Why would my bed be wet?
Then Camila discovered something else. I’m not even on my bed! This feels like the ground. It feels like cold wet hard ground. Why would I be here?
Camila smelt some food cooking and heard many sounds but they were all wrong. She smelt hot dogs but her cook didn’t cook hotdogs. She heard people laughing but nobody laughs in her house.
Camila opened her eyes and screamed.
She was face to face with a muddy hairy monster! When Camila screamed the monster suddenly lunged at her.
Camila crunched into a ball and waited to die.
When she finally worked up her courage again she opened her eyes and saw the monster running down the street holding some purple fabric. But wait a second, Camila thought. That fabric looks familiar. In fact it looks like the same fabric as my favorite purse.
Suddenly it all clicked.
“You come back here with my bag!” Camila yelled trying to get up. She found it was hard and her head felt too heavy for her body. When she finally made it to her feet the man and her stolen purse were long gone.
All the anger Camila felt from her bag being stolen suddenly vanished and she was scared. She found herself all alone in a dirty cold alley way.
Where am I? How did I get here? I don’t remember anything. I’ve got to find help!
Camila began to run towards the street waving her arms and screaming for help. It was a slow road and the few cars that did come kept driving past her. But Camila kept waving. Her body wouldn’t let her stop because she knew once she did her mind would take over and she would have to really think about her situation.
Suddenly a black shiny car came around the corner and seemed to be going very slow as if not in a hurry. Camila knew this was her chance to actually get someone attention but she couldn’t. All she could do was stare at the car.
It was beautiful. Black and shiny and stylish. She remembered this car from something. It seemed like an old memory now but she remembered her father showing her a picture of this car and saying that someday he was going to have it. Camila began to cry thinking of home and how she wasn’t there.
Even without her waving her arms the car stopped next to her and a man came out.
“Are you alright?” He asked. His face seemed familiar but she wasn’t sure why.
Her mouth wouldn’t move.
The man looked concerned and bent down to Camila’s eye level. “You look lost. Can you tell me your name?”
Camila found herself whispering “C-Camila G-Goa-Goaver.”
“Ok Camila get in the car and I’m going to take you home,” The man opened a door and Camila climbed in. The man then got back into the driver’s seat. He turned round to her and smiled.
Camila’s eyes grew big.
She tried to open the door but found it was locked.
“None of that now. Just sit still and enjoy the ride.” The man said. The man who had caused this all. The man who had kidnapped her.
The man who had murdered her parents.
She was trapped.