The
Crazy Cat Lady
On
Elderberry Lane
By Janus DiWitkey
Text copyright 2013
Janus DiWitkey
All Rights Reserved
Thank you to my wonderful husband, for all of his love, support and encouragement. You make life fun. Thank you for putting up with the craziness that is me.
***
For all of the precious cats in my life, the ones that are here with me now, and those whose spirits run free at the Rainbow Bridge, this is for you my loves.
Today is Thursday, December 19th, 2013
I have finally accepted my fate. I have accepted the fact that I am never leaving this room again. It is the week before Christmas and I want to go home. I want to see my family. I want to open gifts with them on Christmas morning and then sit down to a delicious turkey dinner.
My mom is such a great cook. I think she’ll be sad I’m not there. I think she and my dad are probably worried and are wondering what’s happened to me. I’m sure they’re searching for me.
Don’t give up guys; don’t ever give up on me, please.
I want Christmas. It’s always been a huge deal with my family. I want to overindulge in great food and drink, and just have a wonderful day with my friends and my family. That’s all I want for Christmas this year, or any year from now on. That’s not too much to ask, is it?
I want to go home. But I don’t think that is going to happen, ever again.
You see, a crazy lady has locked me up here for the past three months. I’m not too sure how this happened to me, but it did. You know what they say, sometimes bad things happen to good people. All those stupid sayings like “shit happens”, and “it is what it is”.
But bad stuff always happens to other people, right? You never think it’s going to happen to you, until one day, it does.
Let me introduce myself to anyone who might, hopefully, one day read this story.
My name is Marla Anderson. I’m 18 years old and just started my freshman year of college in September. That was only four months ago, but let me tell you, a lot has happened in those four months.
I am an only child, and I come from a middle-income family where I was raised by two wonderful and loving parents in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois.
My folks don’t have a lot of money, but with some very careful planning were able to send me to a local community college after I graduated with honors from high school.
At this writing I’m sure everyone is worrying about what’s happened to me. I’ve been out of contact with my friends and family since I went missing the first week in October.
I’m not being hurt or abused in any way, not really. But I am being held captive against my will. That is still abuse, isn’t it?
I feel like I’m going crazy in here. This room is boring. There’s nothing in here to do. I sleep on a tiny cot on the floor. There is a small-attached bathroom that I have access to, and I’ve been given some books and magazines to read to help me pass the time.
On the wall over by the door there is a calendar featuring pictures of kittens playing. There is a TV tray and a wooden folding chair that I use as a desk or a sitting area when I eat.
Besides this luxury I’ve been allowed some colored markers, crayons, and a junior legal size pad of canary yellow ruled paper. I’ve been marking the days off of the calendar as they go by, but other than that, it’s easy to lose track of time in here.
The only light I’ve been allowed is a small nightlight next to my cot and another in the bathroom.
My only connection to the outside world is watching through the one tiny window that looks out onto the field in the back of this house. Even if I could get out of that window, there would be nowhere to escape to.
There aren’t any other homes that I can see. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing but snow and trees for miles.
I’m being held in this small room in a small farmhouse in a secluded area of Wisconsin. I see other animals outside of the window. There is always a lot of wildlife, and some horses that are kept here, but nothing else. No other people, no neighbors nearby, nothing. All I see is farmland, the field and the horses.
Two times a day, Eleanor, Ellie for short, that is the name of my captor, will slide a tray of food and water through an opening that she cut out of the door. It’s actually really good food and something to look forward to at least.
The door locks from the outside. I’m unable to fit through it. Even if she forgot to lock it again from her side, I could never escape through it anyway. It’s the size of a small cat door.
Oh, yes, did I mention the cats? Oh my God the cats! She has so many cats. I can never sleep at night because they are constantly scratching and hissing and fighting outside of the door all night. I love cats, I have two of them at home, but she has 127 cats! That is a bit extreme, even for the most dedicated of cat lovers, in my opinion.
But I feel I am getting ahead of myself here, so, let me back up a bit and try to explain what’s happened to me. In writing this, I may even begin to understand it myself.
So, where shall I begin, probably with my high school graduation in June.
It was a gorgeous early spring day and all of my extended family was there to congratulate me and to watch me accept my diploma, thus finishing my four-year studies with honors.
I majored in Psychology and intended to continue in that field of study while at college. My dream was to one day have the title of Doctor in front of my name. I would have a private practice and help people with Obsessive Compulsive disorders. This was my dream, my goal.
What a proud moment in my life, my parents were proud of me as well. It was a great day for the Anderson family. It was one of the happiest days of my young life.
My parents had a barbeque for everyone and mom had ordered a cake from the local bakery. It was one of those big rectangular cakes and it had a black plastic graduation cap on top of it, which was carefully placed next to a rolled up wafer diploma.
Congratulations to the future Doctor Anderson was written across the top of the cake in red and blue icing. That made me smile.
The wafer diploma was especially yummy, and the black plastic cap is still sitting on the small desk in my bedroom at home. It makes me sad to think about that now.
For my graduation gift, my parents bought me a car! What a thrill that was! It was a cute little yellow Volkswagen Beetle. It was not a new one, it was, as the dealer had called it, “gently used” but it ran like a charm.
“Just be careful in it now honey” mom said to me when I got inside to take it for a spin. I assured her that I would and headed off to ride around town, blasting music and feeling like I was on top of the world.
Little did I know that in a few short months some crazy cat lady named Ellie would be looking for a place to dump that car, essentially erasing all evidence that I’d ever set foot on her property.
Friday December 20th, 2013
I had to stop writing yesterday quite unexpectedly. I heard Ellie begin to unlock the door to my room. I don’t want her to see that I still have my laptop computer.
Thank God I have my laptop. I can write down my thoughts to keep me from going insane in this room, to save me from boredom. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to start journaling my experiences here. It’s just that I got tired of looking over the same magazines, over and over again and again. And really, how many times can you read the same books?
Ellie gave me a paperback book by Stephen King. You know, the story of the psychotic bitch that holds her favorite author hostage, while torturing him with physical and psychological abuse. Her humo
r is not lost on me, but I’d happily shove that book down her throat in one second, given the chance.
She came in here yesterday to give me a few more crayons. She swaps them out for me every few days when they become too small to write with anymore. I suppose she doesn’t give me a pen or a pencil, because she knows I’d bury one or both of them in her neck.
No, Ellie is too smart for that. There is nothing in this room or in the small bathroom that can be used against her. She even removed the light bulbs from the ceilings and the mirror that would normally hang above the bathroom sink.
Maybe she knows I have my laptop and doesn’t care. But I hide it away from her anyway. Why take a chance, is what I’m thinking. I’m glad I thought ahead enough to pack my charger cord when I packed up to leave home for this trip. This trip that I’ve come to regret ever taking. The absolute worst decision of my entire life was to get into my little yellow bug and drive out here to interview Eleanor ‘Ellie’ Siegfried.
She was teased in school, Eleanor was. The kids all made fun of her because of the Beatle song, Eleanor Rigby, and they sang after her every day when she passed through the halls.
“Eleanor Siegfried,
picks at the lice in her hair
as she walks into class-
she has a fat ass”
Kids can be so cruel.
They’d sing, and they’d laugh, and she’d cry. Because of this she became furious with me when I continued to call her Eleanor. “My name is Ellie, Ms. Anderson!”
Gee, what a basket case she is. When I’m in a bad enough mood I’ll sing that song to her sometimes when she brings me my food. When that happens, more often than not, I wind up wearing that food, but it’s worth it, just to ruin Ellie’s day.
The first day I woke up here in this room I realized she’d thrown my backpack in here with me. That’s where I’d kept my laptop. She kept my purse of course, so I don’t have my cell phone anymore. I doubt it would work out here in the middle of nowhere anyway.
I’m sure there would be no cell phone coverage, and as far as getting my computer online, even if she does have Internet access, which is highly doubtful, I’d probably be unable to log onto it anyway. If I could, I would email for help.
But still, I’m glad that I at least have my computer. I can look at my pictures from home. I’m not too sure that’s a good idea though, because it really makes me sad to look at those things now.
I’m thankful that at least I can write down my story. Even if no one ever reads it, I have to get it out, I have to type it out here, or write it down somewhere. You never know, I may get out of here someday.
Hell, they might even make a Lifetime movie about me. That would be so cool. But, I don’t think so, as I said I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll probably die here, but who knows? Miracles happen sometimes. I’m not a bad person, I don’t think. Maybe God or whoever is in charge up there will float a miracle or two my way.
The first month or so that I was here, all I ever did was plan my escape. I thought that maybe if I could get out of this house, I could hop on the back of one of those horses outside and ride the hell out of here.
I would probably have to wait until spring. I don’t think I’d make it very far in the snow with only the clothes on my back for shelter.
But I never got the chance to make a run for it. Ellie is too smart, too cautious, and I think I’ve given up now anyway.
So I’ve spent my days looking through old magazines, and drawing. It’s good now to have this diversion, to write out my story.
I should probably continue from where I left off yesterday.
Ok, so, graduation, the car, after that, let’s see what happened. Let me think.
The longer I’m in this room, the less I seem to be able to remember much of what went before. I don’t know why. I don’t think my memory of home should be fading already.
That is why I need to write this stuff down. I don’t want to forget anything that’s happened …before this.
I don’t ever want to forget who I used to be, before I became Ellie’s pet. That’s what she calls me now, her pet.
BITCH!
But I digress.
Let me continue my story here from my high school graduation gift, my beloved little beetle. My first car, and sadly it looks like it’ll be my only car.
I drove that little thing all over town with my girlfriends, to the mall, to the lake, and everywhere in between. I am the only one of my friends to have their own car. It’s awesome.
I got a job in the mall, just for the summer. I worked at one of the fast food restaurants in the food court. That’s where I met my boyfriend, Jacob. He works there too and actually trained me when I first started working there. It’s sad to think that I’ll probably never see him again. I think we might have actually worked out. I miss him, and I miss my girlfriends and my parents.
I miss my cats too. Mickey and Minnie, that’s their names. Yes, I’m a Disney fan, I guess, lame as that is, but something that I must admit.
This past summer nothing really spectacular happened, except for meeting Jacob that is. My only regret there is that I never did it with him. I’m still a virgin, believe it or not. My friends are always telling me to just give it up already, what am I waiting for. I think I was waiting for Mr. Right, if there is such a thing.
Maybe Jacob was Mr. Right, but now I’ll never know.
I’m getting tired now, and I think I’m coming down with something. I’ve been getting this weird itchy rash everywhere and I’m thankful there’s a tub in the little bathroom attached to my room.
I’m going to go and take a soak in there for a little while. Ellie has been kind enough to supply me with some bath salts. At first I thought they smelled gross but I’ve actually started to like them a bit. They smell kind of fishy, but she says it’s a natural product, something she makes herself.
Ellie has a huge herb garden here. Since she lives out in the boonies, she makes a lot of her own stuff that she uses everyday. And she grows her own fruit and veggies too.
I have to admit that whatever it is she is whipping up for me to eat every day, it’s some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. A lot of it is strange stuff and sometimes even smells a bit off, but the taste is fantastic.
Well, I’m gonna go and take that bath now. I’ll write more tomorrow.
Saturday December 21st, 2013
I woke up today and my itchy rash is gone but my skin is looking sort of weird. It is kind of discolored and I’m still not feeling so great. This is really strange. I’ve always been such a healthy girl and now all I feel like doing is sleeping when I’m not sitting on the toilet with cramps. Yikes! How unattractive. It’s a good thing Jacob can’t see me now, LOL.
I just had lunch and it was a delicious tuna sandwich on toast. Yummy! I’m even starting to get a little bit of a fat tummy, which I never had a problem with before. Who cares? There isn’t anyone to look at me and judge my appearance anyway. I might as well chill and pig out and hope that Ellie never changes her mind about the great food she supplies me with.
Sunday December 22nd, 2013
OMG you won’t believe what Ellie slipped through the feeding door during the night!
When I came here to meet with Ellie, I’d brought along a mini recorder to record my interview with her.
At the beginning of my freshman Psychology class we were assigned a paper requiring an extensive study of a subject we’d found of particular interest to us. It may be someone we know personally, such as a family member or anyone else of interest.
I found out about Ellie when I first saw her on a show about people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder that presents itself as animal hoarding.
I couldn’t believe how lucky I was when I contacted her during the second week in September and she agreed to meet with me.
I recorded that interview, I recorded everything, and, Ellie held onto it, all this time! I’d completely forgotten about that!
I don’t kn
ow if she’s taken pity on me, or what, but, for some reason, she slipped my recorder through the door and left it for me to listen to.
I’ve forgotten really what went on during the interview and most of what was said. Like I said earlier, I’ve forgotten about a lot of things lately. I don’t know why, maybe the solitude of just being locked up here all by myself all these weeks. It’s been starting to get to me.
Anyway, I haven’t listened to it yet, but I’ll write down my thoughts about the interview once I have.
Monday December 23rd, 2013
The Crazy Cat Lady on Elderberry Lane Page 1