What is this thing wrapped around my head? I can twitch my nose a bit, and it feels rough on it, but other than that I have no idea. Some sort of rough bag is my best guess, may be one of those that you keep old potatoes in. Doesn't smell much like it has had potatoes in though, there's more of a coppery smell, and something like oil. That's weird. Why would it smell of oil?

Whatever it is around my face, it's blocking out all the light. I can't see a thing. My eyes are open. I know they are open because I can feel the lids stick slightly when I blink, but it is so dark in here. 

There are sounds coming from nearby, but they are muffled by something, and I can feel a small draft around my ears. I cannot feel my legs. Oh my god, my legs, what's happened, I can't feel them, or my arms. They are just numb. I cannot feel anything below my neck. Oh fuck, I've been drugged haven't I? And I cannot move my head. It feels like it is being held by really firm but completely soft hands. What is going on here? Who..?

What was that noise? Sounded like a door shutting, but away from me. Hang on, there's something else as well. A dog barking. I know that, next door's dog, the one that gets on my nerves when we are out in the back yard, barking, incessantly barking, that's the one. So, right, I'm outside, but not, and I can smell oil. And copper or something metal? 

Shit, shit, shit, oh my god, what's happening, I'm in a car. What's going on? Help me! Someone. I'm in here, in this car. Someone fucking help. Help. Help me.

Oh shit. I must be in the boot. I'm in the boot of a car. All I can hear is the thud of my voice on the lid. Nobody is going to hear me.  My mouth is too dry. I wonder if that's the drugs. If I lick my lips, get some juice going, perhaps I can shout louder. God my lips feel rough. Wait. What's that? Sounded like another door, but opening. The car. The car door, it's opening. And closing. God no, what is happening. Why me? Why did that man...?

That man. That's it, yes, yes. I came home, yes, from work. Did I feed the cat? No idea. Did I feed the cat? I came in, took off my coat and shoes, and the cat was there in the kitchen, but in a corner, so I crouched down to pick her up, and yes, yes,  the cat. She wasn't looking at me, she was looking behind me, and it spooked me a bit. Did I look round, I think so, and that man was there, oh god, he was, and he had blood on his face, and the smell, that coppery smell, and his dead eyes, and then...

And then nothing. Did he hit me? I think he did. Let me just shut one eye, the left one. Feels tight, and stings when I do that. So he must have hit me. The other eye feels fine. But my head, damn that hurts bad. Maybe he did give me some drug. What's that one, that date rape drug? Don't know the name. That must be it though. Makes you numb or something, I think.  

He's got in the car now, so why, oh, shit, he's opened the door again. Not shut it, so he must be doing something quickly, shit, that's a key in a lock. The boot lid. It's opening. Weird, I can see vague shapes through this thing round my head. Oh, it is a sack. I was right, see. He's leaning over, what's he doing? This is my chance. Help. Help. Please help me. I can make out his arm reaching across, picking something up, and dropping it on me. 

I can barely breathe, suffocated by whatever he dropped on my face. It's muffling my shouts, nobody will be able to hear me now. And he has closed the boot. It is  completely dark and I am totally alone, straining to breath, and tears come. Don't cry, Jeanie, damnit girl. Keep it together, like they say in the movies. Be cool. He has not killed you, so there is hope isn't there?  

That's the door shutting again. I'm getting good at knowing what all the sounds are. I feel and hear the engine at the same time, then we start moving, with a lurch. My head lolls to one side, I have no control over it, my neck is paralysed, I cannot feel it. What's this that my face is resting on. It's hard and cold, a jack or a wrench, and it smells metallic, but I can breath better, which is a relief. There is a stream of air coming in, cool, precious air. The motion of the car is rocking me back and forth, my right cheek gently bumping into the jack. Be thankful for small mercies, Jeanie. It would sting like hell if it was your left cheek.  

I could sleep now. Still cannot feel anything else, so the drugs must be there still. My eyes are closing. No. No. No. Do not fall asleep. You cannot fall asleep now. Stay awake Jeanie. You've got to, he can't win. You have got to...

The only noises are the engine, changing pitch as we speed up, and every now and then slow for a corner, and the background thrum of the tyres on the road. I try to keep track of where we are heading, but really I havent got a clue. We start to speed up more and more, and the tyres squeal as we go round a corner too quickly. I rock back a forwards under the blanket, my face getting hotter and hotter.

Then, my head jolts sharply to one side. Seemingly seconds later, though I'm sure it wasn't, there is a loud crash of metal and glass. The car has stopped, and I'm leaning on my left cheek, but who cares about the pain. I can definitely smell petrol. We've hit something, hard, this is it, help, someone, help me, I'm in the back. Help. Fucking help me. 

I cry until my voice is hoarse, but there is nothing. I can hear a gentle hiss, the radiatior? Who knows, who cares? All I know is that there has been no sound of the door opening, no key in the bootlid, so that means, yes, that bastard is dead. Yes, I'm going to be okay. 

Now I can hear something, another car, two maybe. They are stopping, they are stopping. One door, two, three, slam closed. They are coming for me. I hear them open a door, it groans and the car trembles slightly. A man's voice comes through, muffled, but I can make out that he is telling someone to help him, and there's a lot of blood on him, he says, where is that ambulance. I feel the car rise a little. 

It goes quiet. 

In here, I'm in here. Help me.

They cannot hear me. I can't hear them talking, they must be either silent or talking quietly. Then one shouts, Joe, come here, look at this, he's not cut anywhere, there's just this bang on his head. Where's all the blood from? Joe, he's waking up, come on, help me, shit Joe. He's coming round, quick, he's a big bastard. 

A bang against the car, a body hitting it, and then nothing. It feels like forever, I'm too tired to shout, maybe they will come, maybe they won't. I'm tired now, I want to close my eyes. Just a small sleep would be nice. But there is a smell of petrol and I can't go to sleep, can't close my eyes. I have to fight, I shout, they have to get me out quickly.

There are noises from outside, and a man says from close by, she's in the boot, and another says, who, who's in the boot. Then a moment of quiet, and then the key again, before bright light as the blanket is lifted off my head, blue and red lights flashing through the dark of the sack. 

Someone lifts me up, but the sack snags on something, the jack. I land in the boot again, then there is a clatter of wood and a metal clang as whatever it is hits the road.

Again I get lifted up, but all I can feel is my head, blood throbbing pain inside. I still cannot feel my legs and arms, and I hear the man say, here she is. Then I am being lifted up by my hair, the sack falls away from me. The police lights make my eyes close, but I can make out a police man turn to one side and he is sick, another puts his hand over his mouth. My hair feels like it is being torn from my head, but I feel weightless below. The man turns me to face him, and I see triumph and defeat in his eyes, but nothing else but a lifeless gaze. His face is swollen and there is a lump the size of a ball above his forehead. I do not recognise his face.

He smiles, and his eyes roll up into his head, just as a police man grasps his shoulder. He falls, and I fall with him as his arm drops. I land facing him, the tarmac cold. Beyond his head I see the axe, blade wiped clean, but the handle stained darkly, and I look back into his face, his eyes blank, white where his life has disappeared, and I know that now, finally, now I have seen him dead, it is fine for me to sleep as well, so I close my eyes and the reds and blues disappear, replaced by white and I can feel my arms and legs again.