Chapter 1
This is a true story.
You should know that hitchhiking is a dangerous idea. I knew it, but I used to do it, anyway.
It did not matter back then that I had heard horror stories about what people might do to you, or what might happen out there on the road. I knew the story of the girl who was captured and kept in a box for years. I knew about serial killers that would murder anyone dumb enough to get in their car, or worse, torture them for unending periods before killing them. I knew about weather, illness, injuries, and animals. I also knew how things could turn for the worse in a moment, without anyone to help you.
I thought I was smart, careful and good at reading people. I was no threat to anyone and honestly, everyone I ever met out there seemed to be fairly good, or even downright terrific. It was far cheaper than owning a car and it could be fun getting to know others on the road. I was damn lucky, all but that one, unforgettable time.
I never anticipated what would happen to me, it wasn’t something your mother warns you about as a kid. It wasn’t as if something so terrifying was even believable or fathomable to comprehend. I know I’ll never forget what happened. It is driving me crazy.
Sometimes an hour or two will go by and then the memory comes rocketing back into my mind. Years have passed and I remember every single detail, what I saw, heard and smelled. I still have nightmares about it, almost every single time I fall asleep. I’ve spent thousands on therapy and I don’t think one has ever believed me.
I’ve tried numbing the thoughts with alcohol, tried to bury myself in the pursuit of women, spent time in the Army and prison. I even tried prescription medications and all to no avail. Nothing makes these thoughts and memories go away.
Something happened to me out there and it shook me to my core, infecting me with fear and panic so great I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I don’t know much in this world, but I know I will never again stick my thumb out and go anywhere. I stay home and I keep the lights on. People visit me, but I rarely go out.
Someday I hope to find the courage to go back there and face my fears, but God help me, I do not think I can. I am afraid that if I do, I will die, or something far more terrifying than death will happen to me.
In case you are wondering, yes, some things are far worse than death.
