COPS

So I just woke up to a very crazy event, it is similar to Lolita, but instead of dealing with Nymphetes, you may call this woman a Wrinklette. I'm going to start from the beginning of her story.

Her name is Betty Joe, from Los Angeles California. Earlier this year, she went to a church retreat where she met a man who was really attractive. This man took an immediate liking to Betty Joe, told her he loved her, and that she should move to Montana, the most beautiful state in the world. So last Sunday, Betty Joe packed up her house, even though her daughter told her not to, and took a Greyhound to the Big Sky State. According to the story she gave the cops, Betty Joe arrived to a loving man who took really good care of her at first. However, when she tried to call her children and friends a couple of days ago to let them know she was safe, she was supprised to see that every number she dialed was a wrong number. This was when her suspicions arose. She confronted the man and asked why her phone didnt work, and he told her that now she was with him, nothing else mattered, so he changed all the numbers in her phone, to lose complete communication, and start a new life completely rid of its past. Betty Joe began to get upset, so the man duct taped her to a chair, then proceeded to duct tape the doors and block off windows so she could not get out. He did not have a house line so she was unable to call the cops.

Apparently this behavior went on for a few days, making Betty Joe more and more nervous of this situation. She told the cops that yesterday was the tipping point and she knew that she had to escape. She overheard the man, who loved her so much he didnt want to share her with anyone, talking to his friend on the phone about purchasing a bunch of guns for his house. After she heard that, she knew she would have to escape. This morning, when the man left the house, she pryed open the back door that was blocked by an old fridge, and ran down the block knocking on every door she could.

This is where our house gets involved. I saw the lady standing on the street corner, looking like she was waiting for someone, so I didnt think anything of it. After I got into my house, I heard a knock on the door. Over and over. It was the lady. We answered it, and she was shaking, looked like she was running from something that had just hurt her. We didnt let her in the house, but my sister called the cops and I made her some tea to warm up. When the cops got here, she told them that whole disturbing story.

I seriously feel like this captive thing is an ongoing theme. From reading lolita, to watching criminal minds, to poor Betty Joe. Regardless, this was not a boring start to the day, and I felt it necessary to share.