I was beaten, battered, bloody and bruised. I did not think there was any way I could make it out. My emotions were swarming like millions of bees. My rapid heart was beating faster, faster. It was a bass drum pounding the idea of death into my mind. I knew there was a slim chance, but I was fighting for life. The clock was ticking as if it were New Year’s Eve.
I had been hiking in a forest with my best friend Montana late Saturday evening; however, not many people were present. It was a brisk, crisp, ominous fall evening. There was an unavoidable crunching of leaves with every step we took. Every breath, every step, closer and closer to our inevitable fate.  Who knew that in the very next step we would be whisked into the air?
"Help!" We both shouted at the top of our lungs. We realized that most likely no one could hear us in the woods. My phone had died and Montana had no service.
"What do we do now?" she asked.
"We wait," I replied nervously.
"For what?"
"For someone to come along to help. Hopefully before whoever set this up comes back to find us."
Montana and I had been waiting for what seemed like a lifetime. Had not 10 minutes passed before we gave up our frantic and desperate attempt to escape.  We didn't want to give up hope, but it was as if we didn't have another choice. Until almost an hour later, when we saw a park ranger walking in the woods through a break in the trees where leaves had fallen.
"Over here! Over here!" we shouted at the top of our lungs.
  The officer started his way to us with a worried look on his face. His brisk walk turned to a hurried run in a matter of seconds. The ranger seemed scared for us and as if he wanted to help. We soon learned the true meaning that looks really can be deceiving.
The man slit each of our Achilles tendons. It was as if all our hope slowly drained out of us with every ounce of blood. He cut down the net we had been dreadfully tangled in. "BAM!" we thudded loudly to the ground. Both of us were crying and whimpering in pain.
The man said ever so surely, "Go ahead and try to run. Of course you can try, but you are bound to fail."
"What do you want from us?" Montana shouted at the devilish, grinning monster.
"I want your lives," he replied. His voice resonated like nails on a chalkboard. The man walked away from us. We were able to stand up but we were unable to walk. We tried crawling away to hide from the man. Montana and I crawled for about 20 minutes before we heard a four wheeler. We were dreading it was our predator returning. We hid behind the biggest trees we could find.
"Oh, I know you two are out here somewhere! You could not have gone far!" he cackled and grimaced. The man searched behind trees, approaching closer and closer to us. The sound of leaves crackling kept rapidly amplifying. Before we knew it the man was upon us. Almost nothing was in our control now. Our lives were at the hands of the vicious, cruel, sick man right in front of our eyes. "I know this plan of yours to escape was coordinated by only one of you. Who is taking the blame for this?" he shouted. Neither of us replied and the man became more enraged by the second.
"It was all my idea," I replied. "I made her follow me. It is completely my fault." The man shuddered in pure disgust. The man dragged each of us through the painful and jagged sticks, roots, and leaves. The pain was so agonizing; it was almost unbearable. Not in my worst nightmare would I have thought this much pain was possible. I wouldn't wish the pain I was feeling upon my worst enemy.
Before I knew it, I had been knocked unconscious. I woke up groggy, tired, and confused then noticed I was in a cold damp room with a dirt floor. I saw about a 4 foot by 6 foot hole in the ground. I was tied up to a chair back to back with who I believed to be Montana. She was mumbling behind me.
"Montana," I managed to get out. "Do you know where we are?"
"Yes. We are where he plans to kill us." The man stumbled into the room where we were sitting.
"I was waiting for you to wake up my dear," His booze-heavy breath dusted upon me. He then proceeded to beat me. It was as if every thrash gave him a sigh of relief. I was slapped and hit until I saw stars. I did not bother to scream; I only winced for no one could hear me. The man untied me and I fell to the ground in astounding agony. He kicked in my sides with complete and utter mayhem.  "That is just what you get for forcing you beloved friend into peer-pressure." He walked away and he injured Montana until she could not fight back. He said, "That is for being foolish enough to give into peer pressure!"
The man put us in the wooden crate that was placed inside the hole in the ground then nailed it shut. Dirt began to fall through the cracks in the crate. We began screaming at the top of our lungs. The dirt piling on the crate had paused; however, we heard the crate beginning to crack. I was barely conscious at this point. 
I was beaten, battered, bloody and bruised. I did not think there was any way I could make it out. My emotions were swarming like millions of bees. My rapid heart was beating faster, faster. It was a bass drum pounding the idea of death into my mind. I knew there was a slim chance, but I was fighting for life. The clock was ticking as if it were New Year’s Eve.
We heard the faint sound of sirens, but thought we were hallucinating. Montana and I realized we were not when "BANG!" a gunshot rang through our ears.
"We are coming to help!" a soft, calm voice said. "Hang in there girls! We promise we will get you out safe!" Dirt was removed from the crate and it was sawed open rapidly. An FBI agent lifted us out and there were medics on the scene. Just as blood restores itself, we were replenished with hope.
Montana said "I thought you were for sure going to die. You were in such bad shape."
I replied, "There is no way I could have left my best friend alone in this cold, dark world. I refuse to go anywhere without you!"