about to leave, I hear foot steps
outside the door. I freeze and listen to see if I hear it again.
Several seconds pass, and then I hear something that sounds like
metal being dragged along the concrete path in my back yard. The
sound is getting closer and closer to the shed.
Whatever it is must be right outside. Then I
hear a loud thud against the door. It’s as if whoever is out there
pulled something to the shed and set it against the door.
“Who’s there?” I ask.
No one responds.
My heart races.
“I’m calling the police, so I suggest you
leave.”
Still no response.
I reach into the pocket of my robe to get my
phone, but I realize it’s not there.
Fuck! I left it in the house. Why did I do
that?
I grab a small utility knife from a shelf. If
someone is coming to get me, I’m not going down without a
fight.
I stand perfectly still facing the door for
several minutes, but nothing happens. I decide to leave the shed.
This might be the most dangerous thing that I’ve ever done, but I
don’t think I have any other options. I keep the knife in my right
hand, and I lightly place my left hand on the door knob. I turn it
very slowly and attempt to push the door open, but it’s stuck.
There’s something blocking it. I push harder. It doesn’t budge. I
slam my body into it. It still doesn’t move.
Someone has trapped me in here!
Terrible thoughts begin to run through my
mind. What if they’re planning to light the shed on fire while I’m
stuck in here? There aren’t any other ways out. I begin to cry and
panic, and I do the only thing that I can manage to do. I scream. I
scream louder than I’ve ever screamed before. Malcolm is scared and
huddled in the corner, but he’s able to at least bark. I hope one
of my neighbors hears us and lets us out.
Minutes pass, and I begin to think that no
one is going to come to my rescue. I stop screaming and start
pacing.
I hear the footsteps again.
Then the sound of metal on the concrete. I
hold the knife out in front of me, ready to jab at whoever comes in
that door.
The door flies open, and I instinctually step
toward the person entering.
“Put the knife down, Jo!”
I see Will’s face and drop the knife to the
ground.
I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my
entire life, and I throw my arms around him.
“Someone locked me in here,” I say between
sobs.
Will gently pushes me away. “Do you have a
flashlight in here?” he asks quietly.
“Over there.” I point to a small
bookshelf.
Will grabs the flashlight and turns to
leave.
“Where are you going?” I ask frantically.
“Don’t leave me here by myself.”
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to see if I
can find whoever locked you in here.”
I want to beg Will to stay, but I know he
won’t.
He bolts out of the door and jogs toward the
alley with the flashlight in hand.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I can’t manage
to hold them back. I feel so powerless. I cry loudly as I wait for
what feels like an eternity before he finally returns.
“I ran down the alley,” he says, “but I
didn’t see anyone. Hopefully, I’ve scared him off.” Will reaches
for my hand, pulls me toward him, and holds me in a strong embrace.
“Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t help it. I was
so scared. I had no idea what to do.”
“I’m here now, and nothing is going to happen
to you,” Will says.
“How did you know I was in here?” I ask.
“I tried calling you to tell you some things
that I found out about Dickey, but you didn’t answer. I immediately
assumed that something was wrong. I tried to convince myself that I
was being paranoid.” Will sits down in an old folding chair and
pulls me onto his lap.
“What made you come over?” I ask.
“I just couldn’t shake the feeling that
something was wrong. I had to know that you were okay. I drove over
here and knocked on your front door, but you didn’t answer. Then I
thought I heard screams. It took me a minute
outside the door. I freeze and listen to see if I hear it again.
Several seconds pass, and then I hear something that sounds like
metal being dragged along the concrete path in my back yard. The
sound is getting closer and closer to the shed.
Whatever it is must be right outside. Then I
hear a loud thud against the door. It’s as if whoever is out there
pulled something to the shed and set it against the door.
“Who’s there?” I ask.
No one responds.
My heart races.
“I’m calling the police, so I suggest you
leave.”
Still no response.
I reach into the pocket of my robe to get my
phone, but I realize it’s not there.
Fuck! I left it in the house. Why did I do
that?
I grab a small utility knife from a shelf. If
someone is coming to get me, I’m not going down without a
fight.
I stand perfectly still facing the door for
several minutes, but nothing happens. I decide to leave the shed.
This might be the most dangerous thing that I’ve ever done, but I
don’t think I have any other options. I keep the knife in my right
hand, and I lightly place my left hand on the door knob. I turn it
very slowly and attempt to push the door open, but it’s stuck.
There’s something blocking it. I push harder. It doesn’t budge. I
slam my body into it. It still doesn’t move.
Someone has trapped me in here!
Terrible thoughts begin to run through my
mind. What if they’re planning to light the shed on fire while I’m
stuck in here? There aren’t any other ways out. I begin to cry and
panic, and I do the only thing that I can manage to do. I scream. I
scream louder than I’ve ever screamed before. Malcolm is scared and
huddled in the corner, but he’s able to at least bark. I hope one
of my neighbors hears us and lets us out.
Minutes pass, and I begin to think that no
one is going to come to my rescue. I stop screaming and start
pacing.
I hear the footsteps again.
Then the sound of metal on the concrete. I
hold the knife out in front of me, ready to jab at whoever comes in
that door.
The door flies open, and I instinctually step
toward the person entering.
“Put the knife down, Jo!”
I see Will’s face and drop the knife to the
ground.
I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my
entire life, and I throw my arms around him.
“Someone locked me in here,” I say between
sobs.
Will gently pushes me away. “Do you have a
flashlight in here?” he asks quietly.
“Over there.” I point to a small
bookshelf.
Will grabs the flashlight and turns to
leave.
“Where are you going?” I ask frantically.
“Don’t leave me here by myself.”
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to see if I
can find whoever locked you in here.”
I want to beg Will to stay, but I know he
won’t.
He bolts out of the door and jogs toward the
alley with the flashlight in hand.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I can’t manage
to hold them back. I feel so powerless. I cry loudly as I wait for
what feels like an eternity before he finally returns.
“I ran down the alley,” he says, “but I
didn’t see anyone. Hopefully, I’ve scared him off.” Will reaches
for my hand, pulls me toward him, and holds me in a strong embrace.
“Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t help it. I was
so scared. I had no idea what to do.”
“I’m here now, and nothing is going to happen
to you,” Will says.
“How did you know I was in here?” I ask.
“I tried calling you to tell you some things
that I found out about Dickey, but you didn’t answer. I immediately
assumed that something was wrong. I tried to convince myself that I
was being paranoid.” Will sits down in an old folding chair and
pulls me onto his lap.
“What made you come over?” I ask.
“I just couldn’t shake the feeling that
something was wrong. I had to know that you were okay. I drove over
here and knocked on your front door, but you didn’t answer. Then I
thought I heard screams. It took me a minute
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