I had some questions as to why I did the big jump from day 2 to day 116 in my first post. My days were the same daily. I only wrote a few day entries, and I would mostly write prayers, and letters to my babies and husband. I wanted to tell my story from the time I was captured, to when I escaped; to me they are what are most important. The following is from after my escape, I wrote in a personal diary per the instruction of my therapist.
Day 121
The moon light has been shinning through my small window for quite some time now. I hear nothing but my slow and steady breath. Usually I can hear faint thudding, tonight I hear nothing so I know he is either asleep of gone. I get up from my bed (or lack thereof) and head to the first step. Up goes my right foot, I plant it softly on the step, it makes no sound. The second step, the third, fourth, fifth, sixth step. It is when I touch the seventh step, it starts to creak. I freeze. I wait for what must have been 10 to 15 minutes making sure the door doesn’t burst open again. I start walking up. Eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh…
I pray for courage, I pay for the fight in me to take over so I can enable my flight. I stare at the doorknob as if it’s going to turn on its own. The twelfth step. I touch the door knob and it was cold. I turned it and it turned effortlessly, with a deep breath I opened it, not sure of what awaited me on the other side. It was a closet. The smell of moth balls overwhelmed my senses and I took the first step outside of my prison. Carpet never felt so good. I stood there embracing the feel of the soft cloud on my calloused feet. There were jackets hanging in the closet, making it hard to move without causing the hangers to move and make noise. I felt my way to the closet door. Another doorknob. This one was harder to turn. It felt as it was meant to be locked but the actual latch teetered between being locked and not. With a turn of the handled it was open.
The door opened to a dark hallway, with two directions to go; left or right. I went right. I walked on darkness for what seemed like forever. At last I came to another room; the kitchen. I could tell it was used even though the appliances looked brand new. There were dishes in the sink and the smell of cooked meat loaf lingered in the air. I was trapped in the basement of another home? Not uncommon, but I was still shocked. This whole time I was thinking I was in a cellar or basement of an abandoned home and not the same place where this creature lived. There was a small nightlight to the left of the counter, illuminating a door to the outside. I sprinted toward the door, touched the handle and stopped dead in my tracks. What if the house had an alarm? What if it was engaged and would go off as soon as I opened the door? I had to be careful.
I turned around to go find another way out, an open window or proof that there is no alarm. I made it to the living room. The furniture was new; it still had that new smell to it. I started looking around. He had pictures hanging on the walls and on the mantle. “Must be his other victims.” I thought sarcastically. A car drove by on the street outside making the living room glow with light, I caught glimpse of one the pictures. He had a family? It was a candid snap shot of him and a young child kneeling down looking at some sea shells on the beach. The shot was taken over head so I couldn’t see either of their faces. I looked at the other pictures. I knew these people. I knew them, but couldn't place them in my jumbled mind. Looking around the living room I realized this was very similar to my house. The furniture was different, the carpet was new but this house was very similar.
Assuming this house had the same layout, I made my way to the master bedroom. The door was open. I tiptoed in and there he was sleeping peacefully, my captor, my abuser, my husband Levi. Next to him was another woman. Her long brown hair flowed over what used to be my pillow. Her hand on the chest of the man I loved so much. Laying on the night stand was the infamous ski mask he would wear when he would come to me. I stood there for what seemed forever. I was frozen. So many thoughts flooded my brain. Why? Why did he do this to me? Where were my children? I made my way to what I remember being their room. It was empty. There were only 4 boxes marked “Mommy’s things.” There was only one other room that was suitable to house two boys, and that was the office on the other side of the house. I made my way down the hall. I then heard the alarm clock on his phone start going off. I paused. Knowing Levi, he would hit the snooze button three or four times, but then again, I didn’t really know him at all, did I? I still made my way to the office trying to be as quiet as I could be. I opened the door to the office, my heart stopped. There were my babies, sleeping. I made my way in.
Then I heard Levi in the kitchen starting the coffee as he did every morning when I was free. I then heard it; the sound of cereal being poured into a glass bowl. I peeked around the corner and he was bent over grabbing an apple from the refrigerator. I dashed towards the closet that I was hidden within. I hid on the opposite side of the cellar door behind a large winter coat, still leaving me a visible view of the door. Levi then opened the door, with that damned cereal bowl in hand, and the glass of water in the other. He placed them gently on the ground, reached into his back pocket of his sweats, and grabbed the ski mask. He then made his way in the closet closing the door behind him turning on the small light that was in there. I stopped breathing. He then opened the cellar door, paused and started to stroke himself, readying himself for his daily pleasure of entering me without my consent. My eyes filled with tears. He made his way down the stairs.
I counted 12 stairs. When I heard the thud of his foot hit the last step, I snapped. I quickly closed the door to the cellar, pulling coats off their hangers, boxes from the top self, grabbing whatever was in there to pile up against the door. I exited the closet door to where the alarm pad used to be. It was still there. I hit the panic button which sends a silent alert to the security company to alert the police. I ran to the living room, opened the front door and made my way out to the shed out back where I hid till the police came. Once I knew they were there, I came out. My son’s were in wrapped in blankets sitting the front porch with her. I started to approach them when a police man stopped me.
“Who are you?” He asked
“My name is Allyson Rhodeson and I have been held captive in the basement of this house for 122 days. My captor is still trapped in the cellar.” I told him. He looked at me like I was crazy and told me to wait while he ran my name. Sure enough, I was reported missing. I gave him instructions on how to find the cellar. An EMT showed up and I was immediately placed in there and tended to.
I saw my husband leave the house in cuffs. He had no expression on his face. He locked eyes with me, and smiled. That smile was evil. It took me some time to recover. My boys were placed in care of my parents while I received treatment for my wounds; both physically and mentally. I still have no answer why he did this to me, his wife, and the mother of his children. According to his mother, he confessed to keeping me captive. The reason being is unknown. He admitted to wanting to kill me, but he couldn’t do it, his guilty conscience took over and for the past month before I escaped, he purposely left the door unlocked, in hopes I would escape so he wouldn’t be driven to finally kill me. The house has since been sold to someone else. I don’t know what happened to the cellar. All I do know is the steps that led down there, were demolished.
Submitted September 27, 2016 at 06:30PM by rheadark http://ift.tt/2dgMoiG nosleep
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