Night Howler...

Currently Listening To: Crime In Stereo - I Was Trying To Describe You To Someone

I was walking down the street the other day going to my favorite coffee shop when I came upon a crumbled up piece of paper lying in the gutter if the street. Normally I would not have picked it up or paid it any attention, but I felt something inside of me telling me that I need to look at what was written on this random piece of trash.

I picked it up, unraveled it, and my eyes started to scan the dirty paper. It was some sort of note written by some anonymous person. It described a person who was being held in captivity, being tortured and starved. I don't know whether or not this was something real or fake, but it freaked me out non the less. This is what the note had written on it...

It has been 17 days since the last time I have seen the outside world. 17 days without a shower. 17 days without saying a word to another person and I don't know how long this misery is going to last for...This is my 17th journal entry and I do not know how many more I will be able to write. I just hope that someone, somewhere will read my scribblings. I wish I could tell you where I am, but I do not know how I came to be locked in the room.
What I can tell you is that the last place I was seen was at the Oceanside WestField Mall hanging out with my girlfriend doing some very early Christmas shopping. We left the mall late at night and I remember walking back to the car, but something happened. I was hit on the head and was knocked unconscious and I woke up in this shithole, I thought my apartment was bad.
The room that I am in is very dark and extremely filthy, it smells of urine and rotten food and there are no windows, just a door with a slot in it where I receive my daily rations. I am sure that whoever took me also has my girlfriend, but I am unable to be sure because I have been screaming out her name without any response. The light in the center of the room hangs down from the ceiling and flickers on and off consistently day and night. I actually cannot be sure when it is day or night because I have no view of the outside world, but I use it as a reference to describe to you. There is no bed in here, just a twin sized mattress, no blanket.
I get fed twice a day through the slot: beans, bread, and water. Very small portions, but I generally do not eat it. I drink the water and leave the food. There is no proper place for me to go to the bathroom, a hole in the ground is where i do my business. I have investigated every inch of this holding cell and there is no way of escaping this nightmare. I tried multiple times to end my life by taking the spoon that is provided for me across my writs and bleed out, but I cannot succeed in breaking the skin due to my lack of nutrition.
I was surprised to find this notebook and pencil. I am even more surprised that I have the strength to keep writing. I feel as if I am on my last days here. I miss my family and I wish that I could be with them right now. I know that I was not the best son and I caused some acrimony in home life, but I love my family and would do anything to be with them again.
I guess this will be it for now...I hope that I will be able to wake tomorrow and continue this journal...

And the note ended there. I sat on the curb holding this note, a single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't know what to do at that point. Was this someone's sick joke or was this for real? I put the note into my pocket and went to finally got my coffee, but my mind was racing. What was I going to do? I sat and pondered over it while sipping my hot brew. I came to the conclusion that I was going to take it to the police station.

At the station I was able to speak with a detective and I told him what I had found and handed over the note. He was reluctant and I knew that it would be difficult to have a conversation with him. After he reviewed it he looked at me and asked if I liked wasting tax payer money. He saw the note as some joke and did not take me seriously. For all I know the detective probably thought I had written the note and was trying to make him go on some wild goose chase. He told me to get lost...I left the station worried and angry.

I still have the note. I keep it in my notebook and carry it with me everywhere. I am so sorry I could not help you. I tried my best and was turned away. I will use this note as inspiration and I will recall it often.