As the day went by I couldn’t help but let the pessimistic thoughts seep into my constantly active mind. I kept thinking about the fact that I was dying for a drink, and that my body could only reproduce enough water to fill my mouth for about three to five days. So going on the fact the shack got extremely hot during the night, and that I’m not a healthy weight for a man my height and age. I had about another day before severe dehydration was going to settle. I didn’t have too much to worry about food since a human could last up to ten weeks without food without dying. I also worried about dying of a heat stroke. I know that sounds stupid, but tin gets really hot during the Georgian summer. I mean the average temperature in Georgia had so far been ninety six degrees, so inside the metal building (which conducts heat) it was about one hundred and twelve degrees. Not only that but I was wearing my normal ensemble of sweater vest, dress shirt, tie, and thick corduroy pants. So I practically burned during the middle of the day. So to say that I was miserable, smelt bad, and felt gross was a major understatement.
I was trying to think about something else when Tobias, as himself, walked in. He was carrying an animal I was almost absolutely sure he had poached the animal. As I looked at it I was almost completely certain it was a sheep. He looked at my sympathetically and said, “You need to eat.” He turned back to the oven to start to cook it.
I took that opportunity to ask, “What’s you name?” I knew it was a dumb question. I mean I had met him at the house. I knew who he was, but I wanted him to think that I really was interested in him.
He turned back to me and said with what sounded like kindness, “Tobias.” I relaxed sort of happy that I was starting to recognize the personalities before they told me who they were. This meant I could react to what they say faster, and I want to be able to keep up the upper hand.
“Tobias, who was here before?” I asked. This personality, I realized, was going to be the one I needed to really befriend. He would be the key to my escape. He seemed to actually care about me. He seemed to know I was a human that deserved rights.
“That was probably my father.” He said as he peeled off his bloody gloves that kind of reminded me of those gloves those workers that do back breaking work moving rocks use. He looked at my bare right foot and right arm with its sleeve rolled up. “I’m sorry if he hurt you.” He apologized. He sounded so sincere, and he looked so sincere I knew he actually meant it. For a moment he seemed to debate something, and then suddenly he started to take his belt off and walk towards me.
Okay I have to admit something for the moment. At that very moment I was so scared he was going to do what so many unsubs had done to some many hundreds of women. I mean in the job it wasn’t weird for the thought to come into my head or for it to actually happen. I mean I wouldn’t put it past him. It could have been that and honestly the thought of that happening terrified me more than anything else that I could have thought of at the time. Out of sheer terror I asked, “What are you doing?”
He relieved my fears and enticed my curiosity as he wrapped his belt around my arm kind of like a tourniquet. Then suddenly I realized what he was going to do and that scared me worse than the beatings or the roulette. He was going to drug me. “Don’t… please don’t.” I begged as I started to panic. I knew what drugs could do to you. I had saw it all too many times. It ruined how fast your brain worked, impaired your functions sometimes, and sometimes caused you to suffer delusions.
“It helps.” He said and pulled out a vial of some drug (later I would find out it was Dilaudid) and a needle. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.” He told me as he filled up the needle.
“Please… I don’t want it, I don’t want it. Please.” I begged as my phrases started to collide as my fear started to run as high as Mt. Everest… if that was possible. I mean emotions can’t really run high. I mean they can rise to a certain extent, but run high they can’t. So I don’t know why I said that.
“Trust me. I know.” Tobias earnestly said to me.
“Please don’t.” I begged.
Instead of listening to me… he injected me.
Suddenly I passed out and saw my mother, father and little me in their bed room when my father was going to leave me.
“Spencer please go to your room.” My father asked of me. He looked so tired and irritated.
“Don’t treat him like a child.” My mom retorted. At that moment I had loved the fact she saw me as more. But now that I look back on it, I wished that she had seen that yes I was a genius but also I was a child… I mean maturity wise. Unfortunately thanks to my dad leaving and my mom being a schizophrenic meant that I would have to mature a lot faster to eve survive.
“I’m not going to have this conversation in front of him.” My father said waving his large hand at me.
“Statistically children who grow up in multiple parent households attain three or more years of higher education than those in single parent households.” I recited from a book I had read when I was trying to find out how my one and only friend, Billy, was going to react when his parents divorced.
“We’re not statistics Spencer.” He snapped at me.
“I’m not crazy.” My mom said bringing the conversation back to what it had originally been about. It was always what it was about.
“You refuse to take care of yourself. I can’t help you.” He said stuffing clothes in a suit case.
“I do take care of myself.” My mom argued. Unfortunately I could have agreed with my dad about that. I mean her hair hadn’t been brushed in two days and she was wearing the same night gown she had worn all week.
“What day is it?” He asked. Okay so in all fairness that wasn’t a fair question. I mean if I lived in a house all the time I would have lost track of the day… for a moment.
“That’s not fair.” My mom said sounding upset.
“I’m out of ideas Dianna.” He said closing his suitcase.
“You could take Spencer with you. Just for a little while.” That hurt I mean… I had thought that a least she wanted me, but… apparently she didn’t… a least that day. I mean I had no idea who she would be the next day.
“Don’t do this.” My dad said going to the door.
“You’re weak.” My mom spat her harsh words at him. She looked so angry she could have really spit on him.
“You’re right.” He started to walk off. He then looked at me. “Good-bye.” Then just… left. I never forgave him for that. Never. I wouldn’t. I mean what type of man leaves his child to tend to his own wife? What type of man would take a child’s childhood away just for his happiness? That’s just it. He wasn’t a man. He was a wimp. He was a coward. I never could ever consider that man as my dad. I call him my father, because I have to. He was on my birth certificate. Other than that he’s just a man that let me down.
I hugged my mom. “I’m not weak.”
“I know honey.” My mom replied.
As I started to wake up from my dream I heard myself mumbling, “I’m not weak. I’m not weak. I’m not weak.”
“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.” I heard. As I started to open my eyes I saw Tobias bending down. “You mumble boy. Ain’t anyone gonna hear you where you are. Suddenly he began to roar to prove his point.
I sat there dumb founded. I mean I couldn’t make up my mind whether to laugh or look afraid. He stopped after a moment and then climbed into his cot and started to go to sleep.
I sighed happily knowing he would leave me alone… at least for now. I let my mind wander to more beautiful things. The first thing that came to my mind was J.J. The idea of being safe again and being in her arms was enough to make my heart swell in happiness. To smell the lilies and the light scent of a perfume I could never figure out what it was on her skin was the most wonderful thought that came to me. It was so wonderful that was the only night I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
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As much as I wish Spencer Reid and this plot line was mine... it is in fact... not mine. It belongs to Criminal Minds. Lucky people.
oO- Alice Whitlock-Oo Community Member 
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