It's gone quickly, hasn't it? A whole year. How I've survived without Abigail; I still don't know. But I will find her, because tonight is the night. Tonight, is the 11th of the 7th.
As always, we all hold our breaths as the hours and the minutes pass by and 11:07 creeps closer. However, now it's not fear that keeps me awake, it's hope, curiosity and a hunger for revenge.
And it's not just me. The usual fear and suspense is gone, replaced by a burning curiosity of who will be next and if more people will turn up dead. Every friend and family member of those who have been taken is holding their breath hoping that they will be taken too, so they can find them before they turn up the next day dead.
Sometimes, all we need is a spark of hope to cut through the fear.
So, here I lie in wait for the kidnappers to come. This year will it be me? I hope so because I am ready for them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my alarm clock on my bedside table change to 11:06. Any minute now, I will know if it will be me. And you could cut the tension with a knife.
There.
Movement. By my door. Hardly noticeable. But I know what I saw.
They are here.
Suddenly, a hand clamps down on my mouth and a needle goes into my arm. I go limp and everything is dark.
When I awaken, I am in a small, dark room lit by only a single candle. I am in my wheelchair. How they managed to take me and my wheelchair, I don't know.
Then, I see a shadow. A face. A body. And then I see her fully, standing in front of me.
Abigail.