Breaking Point (Short Story)

by Matthew Holley

CHAPTER FOUR

  After only two hours of sleep, Kathleen woke at the crack of dawn. She had been dreaming that she was safely back home snuggled deep inside her Egyptians blankets, but, when she opened her eyes, reality slapped her in the face. She was still in her prison, still in a sitting position with her arms wrapped around her legs. She winced in pain as she stretched her legs out. Her muscles had become stiff during the cold night. Kathleen’s legs tingled as the blood slowly returned to them. She then stretched out her arms and her neck and began to stretch her back when she felt a sharp pain running all around her mid-section. Her lower back ached where her kidneys were located and her bladder was in desperate need of relieving itself. The five bottles of water she had drank the previous day were demanding to make another appearance.

  Kathleen felt weak and tired this morning, so she reached behind her and grabbed onto the cell bars. She held onto them for support and pulled herself to her feet. In a standing position, the pressure in her bladder intensified. She wasn’t going to be able to hold the contents of her bladder in much longer. She needed a place to go...soon. Kathleen knew her cage was empty, but she looked around it anyways as if by doing so a place she could relieve herself would magically appear out of thin air, but, not surprisingly, nothing did. The need to go was growing stronger with each passing second. The pain was increasing along with the desperation. Kathleen had often times been labeled a “clean-freak” by her friends, a title she accepted with pride, so relieving herself inside her cage like an animal was not an option. There had to be another solution. She wondered if a bladder could get so full that it would eventually explode inside a person’s body or would a person’s body simply take charge and empty its bladder before any serious damage could occur. An involuntary response. As involuntary as a heart beating. The body’s natural instinct to save itself.

  Kathleen couldn’t allow that to happen. The shame would be too great if she urinated on herself like a child. She needed to find a more dignified way to relieve herself. She walked to the side of her cage, the side farthest away from the green door. There, she pressed her hips tight against the cell bars to ascertain whether she could relieve herself through the bars. She adjusted her body into several poses until she found the best position in which she felt confident she could empty her bladder and not get a single drop inside her cage. She was so thankful no one could see her now. There was nothing lady-like in what she was about to do. Kathleen glanced back at the green door to make sure it was still closed. She would be horrified if her kidnapper walked in while she was in the middle of such a humiliating act. The green door was closed. Kathleen returned her attention to the task at hand. But, just as she was about to pull the crotch of her panties to the side, she heard the sound of a door opening. She quickly spun around to see her kidnapper walking through the green door. A flood of relief swept over her that she hadn’t started the show yet which was immediately followed by a raging river of anger for the lack of privacy she was given.

  “It got pretty cold last night, didn’t it Princess?” Kathleen was almost certain she could hear a smirk in her captor’s voice.

  “Just like you knew it would.”

  Kathleen imagined her captor now had a satisfying smile plastered on his face.

  “I just came in here to make sure you survived your first night. You know, to make sure you hadn’t frozen to death. Wouldn’t want you dying on me just yet.”

  “Why do you care if I die or not?” Kathleen asked with anger in her voice. “Would my dying rob you of some sick enjoyment you’re getting from all this? Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you? What horrible thing did I do to deserve this? Tell me! Why do you want to see me in such pain? Why do you want me to suffer?”

  “Are you suffering, Princess?” the kidnapper asked in a mocking, insincere tone.

  “Screw you!” Kathleen quickly turned her back to her kidnapper. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing her eyes fill up with tears.

  “I see you still have some fight left in you. I’m surprised. I assumed a rich spoiled girl like you would have fell apart after the first night. I guess we…I mean…I guess I underestimated you.”

  We? Kathleen heard her kidnapper say “we”. There was more than one kidnapper. How many? Who else was helping her kidnapper? Of course! The driver of the black van. Someone was driving the van when her kidnapper pulled her inside. So there had to be at least two kidnappers. The man in the hockey mask was not alone.

  “Tell me what this is all about,” Kathleen pleaded, still with her back to her kidnapper as she gained control of her emotions and stopped her tears from falling.

  “In time, Princess. In time.”

  Kathleen turned back around and faced her kidnapper. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “In time, all will be revealed. You will know why this is happening to you. How long it takes is up to you. You can end this at any time. You know what you have to do.”

  “I will never do that!”

  “Never say never.” Kathleen’s kidnapper turned and headed for the green door.

  “Wait.” Kathleen called out.

  The kidnapper stopped and turned around.

  “I have to pee.” Kathleen stated in a humiliated voice. She had on several occasions throughout her life, and without shame, announced to her friends or to her family that she had to pee before heading to the nearest bathroom, but this time it wasn’t an announcement she was making. It was a plea. “Could you get me something to use?”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” the kidnapper said and then walked out the green door.

  In what seemed like an eternity to Kathleen, but was in actuality only ten minutes, the kidnapper returned. He walked up to Kathleen’s cage and tossed something inside. Kathleen picked up the item. It was a round plastic empty container that once was filled with margarine.

  “Sorry. That’s all I have. Beggars can’t be choosers. Take it or leave it.”

  “What choice do I have?” Kathleen doubted this plastic container was all her kidnapper could find. This was just another way for him to indignify her. “Are you going to just stand there and watch?” Kathleen asked in an irritable tone.

  Kathleen’s kidnapper scoffed out loud. “Don’t flatter yourself, Princess.” He then walked out the green door, closing it behind him as usual.

  Kathleen went over to the end of her cage as far away from the green door as she could get. She got down in a squatting position and placed the plastic container underneath her. She was about to perform the most humiliating, degrading act of her life. Despite being in severe pain from holding her bladder for so long, Kathleen stared at the green door for several seconds, waiting to see if her abductor was going to walk inside and witness her vulgar act. Convincing herself her kidnapper wasn’t going to return any time soon, Kathleen returned her attention to the plastic bowl. She positioned the make-shift urinal where it needed to be and glanced back up at the green door one last time. She was still alone. She pulled the crotch of her panties to the side to expose herself.

  As bad as the need to go was, nothing was happening. Kathleen was hurting, but her muscles that controlled the release of urine refused to relax. Had she waited too long? Was her bladder going to erupt inside her releasing poisonous urea throughout her body? Kathleen was determined that wasn’t going to happen. She began to slowly breathe in and out in an attempt to calm herself. She cleared her mind of everything but what she needed to do. She thought of flowing rivers and bubbling streams. Oceans of ice cold glaciers and cascades of falling waterfalls. Whatever it took to get her flowing. And eventually she heard the sound of liquid falling into the plastic container. It burned and was a relief at the same time.

  Kathleen looked down to ensure her aim was accurate, before resuming her watch on the green door, prepared to stop in mid-stream if the door started to open. The smell of her urine was strong being as close to it as she was and she turned her nose as far away from the smell as she could. K
athleen kept going and going and she began to wonder if she was ever going to stop. She knew the longer it took, the more chance there would be that she would be caught by her kidnapper. What an embarrassing situation that would be. Finally, it sounded like her stream was slowing down. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

  All of a sudden, Kathleen felt something warm around her feet. She quickly looked between her legs and saw a puddle of urine surrounding her feet. The plastic container was leaking. Instinctively, she hastily tried to move her feet out of the puddle. In doing so, she lost her balance momentarily and inadvertently knocked the plastic container over. Urine spilled across the cage floor. Kathleen was fully convinced her kidnapper had sabotaged the plastic container by cutting a small slit in the side of it. She was so consumed with rage and frustration that she stood up and kicked the bowl across her cell splattering urine on her legs. This angered her even more and she screamed out in anger from the top of her lungs hoping her kidnapper would come through the green door so she could yell at him, but he didn’t come. This made Kathleen even angrier and she again screamed as loud and as long as she possibly could.

  After her tantrum ended, Kathleen was succumbed with a feeling of defeat and wanting to just give up. She turned around and slid her back down the cage bars until she was sitting on the floor. There, she looked around her prison and its floor covered in her own urine and began sobbing uncontrollably. The most heartbreaking breakdown she had ever experienced. Her normal breathing was transformed into a series of convulsive gaspings of air and she was nearly drowning in her own tears. So many tears that they dripped from her face and formed a small pool on the floor between her legs. Sobs of anguish filled the abandoned factory.

  Twenty minutes passed before Kathleen could stop crying. She was disappointed in herself for breaking down emotionally like she had. It was just what her kidnapper was hoping to do to her. Break her. Kathleen was determined more than ever not to allow that to happen. She needed to stay strong. She didn’t want to give her kidnapper the satisfaction of thinking he was beating her down. Even if he actually was.

  The temperature inside the old factory was growing hotter just as it had the day prior. Kathleen was thirsty again. Then her stomach growled so loudly, it startled her. She hadn’t eaten anything since the previous morning. Her blood/sugar level was low. The small bowl of cereal she had eaten for breakfast had long ago been consumed by her body and now her body demanded more nutrients. But the convenience of driving to the nearest drive-thru and ordering a breakfast sandwich wasn’t going to happen. Kathleen’s only access to food would be through her kidnapper, but asking him for anything was just too demeaning for Kathleen. Especially after what happened with the plastic container incident. Her pride would not allow it. Kathleen’s stomach growled again.

  “Shut up,” she ordered her stomach. “I know you’re hungry. I know we need food, but there’s nothing I can do about.”

  Again Kathleen’s stomach growled, but more intensely this time.

  “Go ahead and get angry. See if I care. I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

  Her stomach growled hard and long.

  “Forget it! I’m not going to ask him for food. I’m not going to ask him for anything. Just relax. We’re not going to die after just one day without eating.”

  “Grrrooowwwl!”

  “You don’t have to remind me about our blood/sugar level. I’m very aware of it. My head is spinning. I’m really thirsty. I’m tired. And I’m…I’m actually having a conversation with my stomach. You’re losing it, Kathleen. Keep it together, girl.”

  Kathleen’s thirst was growing strong again. The last time, in order for her to have received water from her kidnapper, she had to first make a deal with him. What would he want this time? What would she have to do for more water? She knew her captor wasn’t going to just give her the water out of the kindness of his heart. Assuming he was planning to give her more water at all. What if he didn’t? What if he wasn’t going to return? What if something happened to him and whoever else might be helping him? What if they got scared and ran away? No one knew where she was. She would be trapped inside her cage. Left to thirst to death. Her corpse would rot inside the cage leaving nothing behind but her skeleton. Nothing to identify who she was. Just another victim. Just another statistic.

  Kathleen found herself earnestly watching the green door. She began to worry she would never see it open again. How could someone start longing to see a person who had kidnapped them? Someone they detested so intensely. Was it simply that Kathleen knew her kidnapper was her life support or was it also her human need for affiliation? Was it because she had been stripped of her autonomy? Stripped of her independence? Kathleen began to fear she was starting to act like a victim, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off the green door.

  Most of the day passed away and Kathleen was again in desperate need of hydration. Her head felt like her skull was shrinking and it was trying to crush her brain. She felt as though she needed to vomit, but her stomach was empty and had nothing to bring up. And she was dizzy. She felt like her prison was spinning. She had to lie down. Her urine that had been splattered on the floor of her cage had all evaporated leaving behind a pale yellow residue and a strong odor, but this didn’t deter Kathleen from lying on her back in the middle of her cage and holding onto the cage floor in an attempt to stop it from twirling. She felt like she was riding the tea cup ride at Disney World.

  Disney World. That’s where her family was for the week. In Florida. Enjoying the many attractions the park had to offer. Enjoying their time together as a family. Eating at all the many restaurants. Riding the rides and enjoying the shows. Oh, how Kathleen wished she had went with them. Not only because she would have avoided the situation that she was now in, but also because she truly missed her family. What if she never saw them again? What if she never got to kiss her little brother’s forehead again? What if she never got the opportunity to follow in her father’s footsteps and become a great lawyer like him? What if she never got to tell her mother she loved her and how sorry she was for giving her such grief over the years? What if---.

  “Shut up, Kathleen! Stop talking like that. We’re going to see them again. We’re going to get out of this. Stay strong. Please, just stay strong. I’m sure someone is looking for us right now. I’m sure one of our friends have missed us and have already called the police. They will find us. They have to find us.”

  About the time Kathleen was becoming convinced her kidnapper wasn’t going to make an appearance, the green door opened. Kathleen was permeated with a feeling of exuberant relief when she heard the door open. A smile started to form across her face, but she quickly removed it. She was extremely disappointed in herself. How could she be feeling joy from seeing her kidnapper? He was the reason she was locked inside a cage like an animal. He was the reason she wasn’t home right now, sitting on the couch, watching Judge Judy while eating her delivered eggplant parmesan from the Italian restaurant down the road. He was the reason for all this. Kathleen grew frustrated that she had to keep reminding herself of this fact.

  Kathleen struggled to her feet while her kidnapper approached her cage. The kidnapper had his hands behind his back when he stopped in front of the cage. Kathleen prayed he had his cooler with ice cold bottles of water hiding behind his back. The kidnapper presented his right hand. In it was a tall glass of cold milk with a straw in it. He maneuvered the straw under his mask and began drinking the milk.

  “Man, this is some good milk,” the kidnapper exclaimed. “It’s cold and so refreshing. Would you like some?”

  “I can’t have any. I’m lactose intolerant.”

  “I know you are. This is soy milk.”

  “How did…never mind.” Kathleen realized how her kidnapper knew she was lactose intolerant. That information was on her Facebook.

  “So, would you like some?”

  “What would I have to do for it?”

  “Nothing. Just ask.”
>
  “May I have some milk, please?”

  “Of course, but this one is mine.” The kidnapper showed his left hand. In it was a plastic baby bottle filled with milk. “This one is yours.”

  “Are you kidding me? Why is my milk in a baby bottle? Just to humiliate me?”

  “Do you want it or not?”

  Kathleen’s stomach answered for her with a loud, long growl. Her stomach desired the milk as much as she did. But her stomach didn’t have to endure the humiliation. Looking at the bottle of milk, Kathleen decided the humiliation was worth it. She was so thirsty and so hungry and knew the milk would satisfy both conditions.

  “Yes. I want it,” Kathleen said and held her hand out to receive the bottle.

  “No. That’s not how it’s going to work. I’m going to feed you. You’re going to put your hands behind your back, get down on your knees, and I’ll feed you through the bars. No negotiating.”

  Kathleen shook her head and blew out a heavy breath of frustration. Why did her kidnapper enjoy humiliating her so? Was he getting enjoyment out of trying to demoralize her? He was ordering Kathleen to engage in a submissive, degrading act just for a drink of milk and, under any normal situation, she wouldn’t have ever considered it, but this wasn’t a normal situation. She needed the milk.

  Kathleen looked at her kidnapper with heavy resentment in her eyes. “Fine,” she said and placed her hands behind her back, got on her knees as she was instructed, and waited to receive the bottle.

  Her kidnapper stuck the bottle of milk through the cage bars and held it there for Kathleen to drink. The last ounce of dignity Kathleen had been holding onto instantly evaporated as she wrapped her lips around the nipple of the bottle and began nursing. She closed her eyes tight and pretended she was alone. She pretended her kidnapper wasn’t standing in front of her witnessing her humiliation. She pretended suckling from a baby bottle was a normal way to drink milk for a twenty-one year old. She pretended the painful humiliation she was enduring wasn’t happening to her. Kathleen pretended.

  Kathleen drank hungrily from the bottle. She was surprised at how hard she had to suck to get the milk out. Did infants have to go through this much effort when they nursed from a bottle? Perhaps that’s why they cry so much, Kathleen presumed. Never the less, the milk was cold and tasted so delicious. Kathleen wanted to grasp the bottle in her hands and squeeze it hard to force the milk to come out faster, but she knew she wouldn’t have been allowed to do that. Kathleen couldn’t remember ever having milk that tasted so good. It was so sweet. Milk was pooling in the corners of Kathleen’s lips and dripping down her chin. Her stomach was smiling as the nourishing liquid filled its void. But, much too soon, she heard the slurping sound of the last of the milk leaving the bottle.

  As Kathleen’s abductor pulled the empty bottle from between the cage bars, plucking the nipple from between Kathleen’s lips, two words subconsciously slipped out of Kathleen’s mouth that both surprised her and angered her.

  “Thank you.”

  Those two words escaped Kathleen’s mouth without any conscious thought. Like a reflex. A reflex of good manners taught to her by an etiquette coach and demanded to be used by her mother. The moment the two words were spoken, Kathleen wished she could have taken them back. Why was she thanking her kidnapper? The answer is what angered Kathleen. She was thankful to him for providing her with the milk despite her abductor being the reason she was there in the first place. She imagined it was the same with prisoners who felt a sense of thankfulness to the correctional officers and the institution they were incarcerated in who provided them with food, shelter, clothing, and all their medical needs. Although Kathleen’s situation was a bit different than the prisoners locked up in a state prison. Those prisoners had no reason to feel animosity toward the correctional officers. It wasn’t the correctional officers who incarcerated the prisoners. Kathleen was feeling thankfulness to the man who had kidnapped her. She knew she couldn’t have declined the milk. She needed it. But she didn’t have to thank her captor for it. She shouldn’t have. It was something a victim would have done. Stay strong Kathleen, she told herself. You are not a victim!

  “Good girl,” Kathleen’s kidnapper said. “You finished all your milk.” He then turned around and started for the green door, but stopped and turned around right before he opened the door. He took another sip of his milk and then shook his head. “How stupid of me,” he said with an exaggerated concern. “This isn’t soy milk. It’s regular milk. Sorry about that.” He then walked out the green door.

  A combination of outrage and worry flooded over Kathleen like a tsunami-created wave flooding over a sea level island. She was outraged because she knew her kidnapper hadn’t made a mistake with the milk. He gave her regular milk on purpose. Just another way to make her suffer. She was also angry with herself for not realizing she was drinking regular milk when she tasted the sweetness of it. Her desperation for the milk had clouded her judgment. She was worried because it had been many years since she last inadvertently drank regular milk and that experience wasn’t a good one.

  It happened when Kathleen was eight years old. She was at a friend’s house coloring in coloring books. Her friend’s mom, having been warned about Kathleen’s lactose intolerance, carelessly gave Kathleen and her own daughter some regular chocolate milk. It was the last time the mom ever made that mistake. Thirty minutes after drinking the chocolate milk, Kathleen violently threw up all the milk plus everything else that had been in her stomach. The vomit spewed all over the coloring books and all over Kathleen’s best friend. It was such an embarrassing moment for the young girl that, for a long time afterwards, Kathleen refused to drink anything that even resembled milk. It was many years after the vomiting incident before Kathleen’s mother could finally coax her daughter into drinking soy milk again.

  Kathleen’s stomach was once again filled with regular milk and all she could do now was to sit back against her cage bars and wait. Wait for the inevitable. Several minutes passed and Kathleen was still feeling fine. It had been years since she had last drank regular milk. Perhaps her affliction had cured itself. Maybe her body gained the ability to digest lactose. Kathleen wasn’t sure if such a thing was possible. She had read once that a person’s allergies could change over the years. They could be allergic to something for years and then not. Could it be the same for milk allergies?

  Not in Kathleen’s case. Twenty minutes after drinking the milk, a rumbling arose from her stomach quickly followed by intense cramping. She wrapped her arms tightly around her mid-section and doubled up in pain. She slowly rocked back and forth trying to sooth her extreme discomfort. The contents of her stomach was beginning to gurgle as if it was trying to communicate with Kathleen, telling her it would be seeing her soon. She began belching uncontrollably and her saliva glands began watering excessively. Kathleen knew she was about to vomit. She was at the point of no return.

  Kathleen turned around, held onto the cage bars and pressed as much of her face through the cage bars as she could. Her breathing began to become erratic and she could feel her inner mechanics switching its gears into reverse in preparation to regurgitate the milk she had drank. Then, Kathleen’s whole body tensed up, her mouth opened wide on its own, and she violently heaved the contents of her stomach onto the floor just outside her cage. And just as she was trying to catch her breath, another wave of vomit spewed from her mouth. And then another.

  When it was all over, Kathleen pried her hands from around the cage bars, turned around, and sat back against the bars. She began to breathe in and out heavily, replenishing the oxygen in her body after not being able to breathe during her expulsion of milk and stomach vile. Kathleen’s throat burned and she had the most awful taste in her mouth. She also felt completely drained of energy and she just wanted to rest, but the stench of her vomit forced Kathleen to move to the other side of her cage.

  Kathleen sat down and looked across her prison once again. The aroma of urine and vomit floated
heavily upon the stifling air inside the abandoned factory. A dark cloud of depression hung over Kathleen’s head. A feeling of defeat knocked at her soul. She was trying so hard not to feel like a victim, but she was beginning to think she was just fooling herself. She was locked inside a cage like a monkey at a zoo and she wasn’t sure if anyone realized she was missing. She was thirsty and hungry. Humiliated and disgraced. Scared and alone. Her situation was looking bleak. Kathleen was overwhelmed with disheartenment. She was forced to admit that she had become a victim and shame enveloped her. Quietly, Kathleen sobbed.