When Katie was twelve years old, she simply disappeared. She had told her mom, she was going to start her homework, but when her mother came to tell her it was dinner time, young Katie was gone. Her bedroom window was still closed and locked. Her door led out into the hallway, right past the kitchen. Mrs. Wilson, remained adamant, during the issueing weeks of questioning, that if Katie had left her room, she would have seen, or at the very least, heard her daughter.
So, how and where had Katie vanished to? No ransom note was ever received. No calls. Nothing to give any leads as to her whereabouts.
The mystery was shrugged off by the police as a runaway. They had diligently conducted their investigation. Even though there was nothing to indicate the girl would run, there seemed to be no other explanation.
There had been a small trapdoor in Katie's closet, that led down into the crawl space, that ran under the house. At one end was a lattice opening, police therorized, that Katie had exited through there, even though Mrs. Wilson protested, that Katie was terrified of the crawlspace.
Weeks passed, Mr. Wilson took time off work to help search for his daughter. The family savings went into paying for fliers, and a reward for information, leading to finding Katie. But, nothing came of it. Katie Wilson, was added to the long list of missing children.
Mrs. Wilson, felt as if she had aged 20 years. She was peeling carrots and musing aloud to Katie, as had become her custom. She felt, that maybe somehow Katie would hear her, and know that she had not been forgotten, and this was still home. " Do you think mashed or baked potatoes, Katie?"
"What, Mom?" Mrs. Wilson froze for a second, her head snapping up from her work..it couldn't be... she turned towards the voice..."KATIE!" She charged her daughter, gathering her to her, hugging her for all she was worth. Yes...she was REAL...not some trick of the mind... "Oh, Katie! Where have you been?"
"Been? Doing my homework, Mom..." Katie's china-blue eyes read confusion.
Mrs. Wilson stared at Katie for a moment..."Katie, honey, you've been gone 3 months..."
That three month gap would remain a mystery, even thirty years later, Katie couldn't remember past sitting at her desk doing homework. The next thing she knew, was her stomach was growling, and dinner seemed to be very late.
Doctors had poked and prodded her, pronouncing her fit, except for some minor scars her mom didn't recall her having, and the memory lapse, of those three months.
Mr.and Mrs. Wilson, relieved at having Katie back, did not persue the subject. Katie was home, and that's all that mattered.
30 years later...
Katie wakes with a start, barely able to stifle a scream. With her heart thudding, she realizes it was just another nightmare... Her husband groggily asks if she's ok, then tells her to go back to sleep. Katie lays back down, but doesn't close her eyes. The images might come back... even though Dave has his arm around her for comfort, she's afraid.
The next morning, as they sip coffee, Dave says that maybe she should see a therapist or Doctor..."You've had that same nightmare every night for the past month," he argues.
Katie says she will, knowing she won't. No doctor could help with this except to perscribe stronger sleeping pills...and she'd been on and off those since she was what? Twelve??? She'd had the same nightmare since then too...
She's doing her homework, and suddenly there's this very bright light. It's coming from everywhere all at once, she wants to run to the safety of her mom, in the kitchen, but she's paralyzed. Unable to call out, Katie feels herself beginning to rise and float.
Her body being pulled at first up, then.., NO! the crawl space! ...down, and through the small cramped space, then upward again. It's just the sensation she feels, because she's blinded by the light.
Katie finds herself, in a tube of sorts, unable to fend off the hands, poking, prodding her... she can almost make out images moving about her, but they are very distorted.
Eyes...she can see large, black eyes peering at her. Feel misshapen hands, the fingers felt way too long, touching her gently. Then pain as instruments she didn't understand jabbed into her...
