I wake up to the sound of tires riding on gravel I sit up to see where I’m at. It takes me a second to register where I am but once I do, i see I’m in the middle of the woods riding along a path. it’s a long narrow, gravel path. my eyes dart to the front of the car. I hear slow low humming in the front. I go to tap the man’s shoulder to sign to ask where I’m at but I stop at the site of him. he’s looking at me through the rearview mirror. smiling. not a kind, friendly smile, like the one he gave me when I got in the taxi at the airport, but one that would hunt a little kids dreams it’s so wide it looks like his face is gunna split in half, but he doesn’t say anything he just keeps staring, humming that low scratchy hum. The car suddenly halts to a stop and I look away from him to see what’s happening and I see a old battered house. It’s a two-story house with a front porch. It has a wooden white railing scratched with old age There’s two rocking chairs on either side of the porch with a brown wooden floor and brick stairs leading down to a path. there’s two windows above the chairs, one is cracked. There’s branches and vines, and what looks like some kind of moss, coming up all sides of the old wooden house. The man gets out of the car and comes to my side and opens the door. He tells me to get out. I listen. He starts walking towards the house and I bang on the car to get his attention. He turns around and I sign to him asking him where I’m at. He was supposed to be driving me to my hotel. He just smiles that horrid smile. He opens his coat revealing a knife, an old, crusty knife with something on it that resembles blood, my eyes go wide, and he laughs It’s an old rusty laugh that sends chills up my spine. I run. I run as fast as I can back down the long narrow, trail like my life depends on it. Because it may. I hear him laughing. He’s laughing and he’s getting louder and louder. I can hear it even miles down the trail and at the end I see that there’s a gate I go to open it only to find that there’s an old rusty lock on it. I try climbing over, but it’s far too high, I grab a rock that I see on the side of the trail and bang it as hard as I can at the lock hoping, praying that it will come undone with old age. It doesn’t . I sink to the ground , tears running down my face I want to scream for help want to cry out to someone, anyone for help but I can’t. I can’t scream, my voice no longer works. It hasn’t for a long time. And I realize I have no chance at surviving. he has an advantage. no one can hear me.

I’m the girl with no voice.