• As I was waking up, I found something unusuall had happened. It scared me at first, but I realized it must be from being knocked unconcious. I couldn't see much, my hearing was off, and I was numb all over.

    The first thing that came back to me though, was not a sense, but a memory. To be more specific, many memories. I remebered meeting Tim at the beginning of the week, and the mystery that surrounded him. I remembered the look we always saw on Mr. Rouhlers face. I remembered how we stayed up half the night trying to prove Tim's relation to the Rouhlers. I remembered how we did prove it, and how we wanted to talk to Mr. Rouhler about it. But then, all I remebered was that pain and darkness and a sense of fear.

    Next to come back was feeling, and being able to define where I was. When I say where I was, I don't mean a latitude and longitude. I mean that I could feel that I was on a cold stone floor. And I could feel someone next to me, and realized that I, and whomever was next to me were captives.

    Then my hearing came back. Gradually, I began hearing more detail, first it was just little things close to me, like the breathing of whoever was next to me. Or the little scrapings of small creatures in the wall or under the floors. As my range of hearing widened, though, I heard more, even if I didn't want to. I could hear someone a little ways off, actually two someones, arguing and swearing. Water was running somewhere, and there might have been a car outside of a window. But then I heard something I never wanted to hear again. Crying. A man's crying voice, and I knew that it wasn't the person next to me. It was coming from the other side of the room, and even though my still rather poor hearing garbled it, I recognized the voice of one of my favorite people, Mr. Rouhler.

    Maybe that was what motivated my eyes to start working, and a blurry image came to me. I could see around me the general shape of the room, bars and rock, not great scenery. It was definetly a jail cell, and I managed to see that the person next to me was Tim. But I wasn't so concerned about him right then. I was concerned that a person who could break a leg and saw the cast off the next day was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner.

    So I made my way over to him, and after getting him to stop crying, I worked up the nerve to tell him my story (the story of Tim and I actually). And he nodded and agreed the whole time (I was so happy he believed me I almost smiled). That's when he shared his story to me, like I relayed in the last chapter, and he told me he was crying because he woke to that thought and from that dream.

    As he told me the last part of his dream, and reached the end, I could hear Tim stirring on the other side of the room. Remebering how he said that there was nothing to be thankful for that thanksgiving, I went to help Tim.

    And as I looked in his blurred eyes, and saw the striking resemblance between father and son, I told myself something.

    I vowed to have something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving, I vowed to get us out of there by Thanksgiving, and have the best Thanksgiving ever.

    Then I realized Thanksgiving was tomorrow.