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I Spent 10 Years Locked In A Basement

Even to this day, it seems incredible to think of how much time I really spent locked in that basement. Though I wouldn’t find out exactly how long it was until after the ordeal was over, I knew even while it was happening that it was years. As it turned out, it was a little more than 10 years that I spent there, growing from a teenager into an adult while the cold steel manacle was clasped around my ankle.

I was kidnapped just before my thirteenth birthday. It happened at night, while I was walking home from basketball practice. It was a clear night, and I’d felt that the light of the full moon above me was more than adequate to drive away the fears I normally had while walking in the dark. Of course, I didn’t really know what fear was then. Not yet.

As I hummed a tune I’d heard on the radio the previous afternoon, I kicked the occasional rock and glanced up from the ground in front of me only every few seconds to ensure that I was still aiming in the right direction. I hadn’t bothered to change from my basketball uniform, knowing that once I got home I’d be shower-bound anyway. My practice basketball was tucked safely under my right arm, and I was too worn out from practice to even consider dribbling it in front of me as I walked. I couldn’t have been more than a half mile from my doorstep when it happened.Continue Reading

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