Chapter One

Misty opened her eyes just as the man placed his hand over her mouth and stopped her scream. Her body exploded in a twist of arms and legs. Her elbow connected somewhere on the man's face and she heard a grunt. Another man grabbed her legs and held them to the bed. She froze. The first man lifted her stiff body and carried her through the house, out the front door, to a waiting vehicle. She didn't see her parents or her little brother. The men didn't say a word.

The man flung her into the back of an SUV parked outside her parent's suburban home. One of the men sat in the back with her. Misty scooted as far away as she could and immediately tried the opposite door. It didn't budge due to a childproof lock. The man ignored Misty's struggle for freedom until her tears turned to screams. The open handed slap was so sudden that it surprised her more than it hurt, but she got the hint and her new fear of physical abuse suppressed the next scream.

Misty closed her eyes, hoping the nightmare would end. When she dared peek she still sat in the back of the vehicle with only her cotton nightgown and panties for coverage. No, terrified didn't quite cover how she felt.

She looked around the back of the SUV for a weapon, anything she could use to protect herself. There was nothing. The man who slapped her didn't appear to have a gun. He didn't look at her. But she studied him. If she survived, she could give the police his description. Had they hurt her family, her little brother? She suppressed another scream, lifted her legs, and pulled the nightgown over them. She huddled against the locked door too terrified to even look out the window, the only sound her frantic gulps for breath. The two men didn't care that she could barely breathe or that she wasn't wearing a seatbelt. She knew they planned to kill her.

It took over an hour before she found the courage to ask a question. "Where are you taking me?" She waited. They never answered.

Her terror settled into a cold ball in the pit of her stomach as the vehicle continued on its course. Sometime later, her eyes drifted closed and exhaustion won the battle. She jolted awake when the SUV made a sharp turn throwing her against the door. Light shone through the window and dense trees lined the road on both sides. The vehicle turned left down another road. Low hanging branches scraped the hood of the car. An eerie feeling settled over her. The feeling intensified when large wrought-iron gates swung open and the SUV continued down a narrow drive. On the final sweeping turn, Misty saw an old decrepit three story mansion that did nothing to diminish her fear.

The once white stucco was yellowed and chipped, the walls and building unkept. The front door opened and a middle-aged woman, wearing a lab coat of some kind over a black dress, stepped outside and walked toward the vehicle. The sour feeling in Misty's stomach loosened a bit at the sight of the woman. She would help. The man beside her opened his door and got out.

"Slide over," he said, and beckoned Misty to move across the seat so she could exit on his side. Should she? Now was not the time to rebel so she stayed silent and moved over. The man stepped back and the woman leaned in. She was older than Misty had first thought, the lines at her eyes deep and the firm press of her nearly white lips, unwelcoming.

"You will remain silent," she all but spit. "Follow me." The woman turned away and walked toward the front door, the bob of her short dark hair with streaks of gray locked in place like it was glued.

The man said nothing and didn't really seem to care if Misty got out or not. Stay with the men who kidnapped her or follow the creepy old woman. Creepy old woman won. Misty scrambled out of the SUV and shuffled after her, keeping her arms at her sides so the nightgown didn't ride up past her thighs. She entered a large foyer.

"You will close the door behind you," the woman said from a few feet away.

Misty stopped where she was and, regardless of her fear, she decided enough was enough. "Where am I and why am I here?" She put every last bit of her fifteen year old arrogance into the question.

The woman had begun climbing the stairs which were located to the right, but she suddenly swept around, her hand going to a stick hanging by a cord from her waist, partially covered by the lab coat. She lifted the two-foot stick and struck Misty across the face. The one swipe connected with Misty's neck and the upper part of the chest too.

"Do not speak." She again turned her back on Misty who had her palm over the red heat burning her cheek. Stunned by the sudden violence, Misty followed. They climbed the stairs to the third level. The woman walked down a long corridor to the second to last closed door. Using a key from a keyring also attached at her waist, she unlocked the door and opened it wide. It was a bathroom and Misty was extremely grateful because she needed to use the toilet.

"Remove your clothes and place them on the counter."

"What?" Misty asked in complete astonishment.

"I do not repeat myself." The woman's lip curled up and it wasn't a good look on her. "This is your only warning. If you do not do as you are told, you are beaten."

Beaten? Misty couldn't have heard her correctly. The woman's hand went to the stick at her side and Misty stepped into the bathroom and looked around before turning back to the woman who was glaring at her.

"I do not have anything but panties under my nightgown."

"Remove it all or your delay will have consequences."

The church taught Misty that her body was sacred. She had never undressed in front of anyone but her mother and that had been years before. Her shaking hands inched down to the bottom of the nightgown and she bent slightly before releasing it and straightening.

"I can't," she said. She expected the strike but hadn't anticipated that they wouldn't stop.

Misty cried out and covered her face and throat with her arms. Each ensuing hit landed on her shoulders until she went to her knees, the pain more than she could take. The woman reached down and began tearing the nightgown from her body in between strikes. A blow connected with her fingers and Misty thought they were broken and she screamed. She did everything she could to keep hold of the nightgown but the woman eventually won.

Long fingers dug into her hair and jerked her head back. "Standup."

Misty cried into her arms and the stick came down across her back spreading fire. She made it to her hands and knees, snot dripping from her nose onto the floor. Her shaking legs didn't want to hold her so she grabbed the counter and stood as straight as she was able.

"Remove the underwear, now."

Crying from pain and shame, Misty slipped the garment down her legs and kicked it off her feet, one arm covering her breasts and her other hand going between her legs.

"Get into the shower," the mean voice said. "Wash your hair and your body. Clothes will be provided when you finish. You have four minutes."

"I need to go pee," Misty pleaded between sobs.

"It's part of your shower time." She stood watching, her feet planted a few inches apart, unmoving.

Misty stared at her, knowing the woman would watch her use the toilet which was more shame than she could handle. She pushed aside the shower curtain and turned on the water, stepping inside before it warmed. She couldn't stop the stream of urine that ran down the drain.

"Two minutes."

The freezing water didn't grow warmer. Misty could barely see through her tears but she quickly grabbed the liquid soap, lathered herself, rinsed, and did the same to her hair while shaking so hard it was difficult to hold the bottle. Misty peeked from behind the shower curtain. The woman stood with a stack of clothing in her arms. Misty's clothes were missing.

"Shut the water off and get out." She handed her a towel.

Misty dried herself, trying to stay covered while she did it. The woman pointed at the clothes which she had moved to the counter. It was a beige, unadorned dress, with a high neckline and long sleeves. Misty pulled the shapeless garment, that was heavier than it looked, over her head. The dress fell below her knees. She donned the white underwear quickly. There had been no bra but her breasts were small and her mother had just bought her first one.

"Follow me." Again the woman turned and walked away. She used a key to open another door. She stepped back and nodded at Misty to precede her.

The room was spartan with only a bed covered by a white sheet. No other furniture though there was a door on the side that might be a closet.

"You do not have permission to speak. Talking is a privilege here. You also have no bedding. Everything must be earned other than your clothes and shoes which are in the closet. If you behave in a manner that cannot be controlled by simple means, your clothing will be removed and you will stay locked in this room until you comply. Someone will come for you when it's time to begin your orientation."

Misty simply stared, too afraid to ask a question. Tears slowly dripped down her cheeks.

"You are at the Bridge Home School for Girls," the woman continued. "You will stay here until your behavior is that of a proper Christian woman and not that of a spoiled child guided by Satan. This can be an awarding time in your life where you learn your place to be a wife and mother, or it can be a time of misery. Either way, you will be a suitable young woman when you leave. Your parents have paid dearly for the privilege of sending you here and they have prayed extensively." She turned and walked from the room, locking the door behind her.

Misty stared at the closed door in horror.

Her parents had done this to her.