I Jumped Out Of A Moving Car To Escape Him—But What The Cops Found Was Worse

Hitching a ride upstate, I climbed into Arlen’s van, ignoring my gut. Fifteen minutes in, the bleach smell hit, and his questions—“Got a boyfriend? Anyone know you’re here?”—turned sinister. When he reached for the glove box, I bolted, tumbling onto the gravel shoulder and sprinting to safety. Cops found the van abandoned, revealing a tarp, zip ties, a GoPro with disturbing footage, and a pink bracelet labeled “B-E-L-L-A.” Arlen, really Denny Caldwell, vanished. Months later, mysterious packages—a Polaroid of the bracelet, a video from a motel

I’d stayed at—suggested he was tracking me. His remains were found in the Adirondacks, with a chilling note: “She knew. They always carry you inside.” Therapy and volunteering at a community center, where I made a healing bracelet for a teen, helped me reclaim my life. Two years later, my art show, Escape Velocity, turned trauma into triumph. A survivalist who’d picked up Arlen confessed to abandoning him, leaving a recording calling me “a light.” Trust your gut—it might save you.