It was the fifth time we were attempting something like this once again. “We’ll leave at 4:05 A.M. Be here before our departure time.” I felt like i was going to be in trouble this time. Marc was going to get me in trouble. But strangely i haven’t felt this in my other experiences. He kept calling me, confirming that i was going to be there before 4:05. Why was he so worried? Did he really want to do this again? I couldn’t gather my courage to ask him. But i should have…
It’s almost 4:05 and he’s called me 17 times, asking me the same question over and over again, “You’re sure you’ll be here, right?”, In an unclear Scottish accent. I gave the same answer 16 times. “Yes Marc, I’m sure I’ll be there.” But everything changed on his last phone call. I heard something I shouldn’t have. I heard an unclear man whispering into his ear by the time i called him and it was pretty clear his voice was shivering. Was it the police or was he kidnapped? Did they find our true identity and also our address? I was frightened. I had to call the police but this would get both of us in trouble. Was it the dead end for both of us? I had countless question marks in my bearing mind.
I waited ‘till ‘05. He still hadn’t called but he should have. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t have gone there all by myself but i can’t have called the police either. I knew no other alternative than to actually go there all by myself in the middle of the blinding night.
The location Marc had sent was on top of a mountain in the suburbs. I risked everything and went on a 1-hour trip for him. I didn’t think of anything except for the gas prices. The location was 100 km away and i had just refilled the car’s fuel. While my only thought was how much i would pay to “refill the refill”, an unknown number had called me. The number was not visible by the selection of the caller. I answered the call, trembling. It was an unrecognized voice because the called had used a special effect to anonymize their voice. (He) sounded just like Darth Vader from Star Wars. I was a big fan of him ‘till now as a result of this traumatizing experience. I didn’t understand a thing that he said up until he said ‘Darla’ . Darla was Marc’s- if not mistaken – lost sister…
As I walked through the cracked door in the deserted mountain house, i heard someone so in pain as if they were tied up, being cut in pieces. Was It Darla? Was It Marc? Or was It the police just acting… “Don’t.…. don’t budge an inch!” Officer Ronald screamed. I was panting and didn’t know what to do. Marc was tied up, laying on the floor, unable to speak. We were taken to the station…