"The first thing that came to my head was, Holy shit, I'm gonna die here," Knight says. She heard the door slam shut and his feet pounding down the stairs. Castro stuffed a smelly sock in Knight's mouth, covered it with duct tape, blasted the radio and walked out. Her entire body dangled, face down, in a plank position about a foot above the floor, neck cocked, back arched slightly, hands and feet bound behind her. Suddenly, Knight felt herself being roughly hoisted into the air. He tied a second extension cord to the one around her limbs and neck, then attached it to the wire hanging between the poles. "Now I need you to be still so I can put you up on these poles," he said, shoving Knight onto her stomach. I'm not gonna keep you that long," she remembers him saying as he unzipped his pants and masturbated until he ejaculated on her.Ĭastro then sat on a stool, breathing heavily. "You're only gonna be here for a little while. Castro tied an orange extension cord around her ankles and wrists, yanked her limbs together behind her back, then wrapped the cord around her neck. All she could do was stare at the two metal poles on either side of the room, and the taut wire running between them. He then slapped one hand over her mouth and nose and the other against her head, and pushed her to the ground. Knight took another step forward and- BAM!-Castro slammed the door shut behind them. "They're under there," he said, pointing to the dresser. On the second-floor landing, he directed her to a small bedroom with pink walls. He pointed to the staircase, and Knight started climbing. But Castro had an answer for everything: The puppies were sleeping, and Emily would be up any moment. "Why don't you come with me upstairs so you can go ahead and pick out a puppy?" Knight hesitated. "She's right downstairs, putting some laundry in the machine," Castro said. Knight couldn't believe Emily spent time here.
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The thick air smelled like stale beer, urine and rotten black beans, and many of the windows were boarded up. Castro kidnapped and raped three women in the home for over a decade. Then she followed Castro inside.Ī 10-foot chain link fence surrounds the home of Ariel Castro in Cleveland, May 14, 2013. She saw an old man standing in the yard next door, so she waved. Weren't they only going to be there for a few minutes? Castro said something about not wanting his truck to get stolen, then helped her out of the car.
Castro drove down the driveway, got out of the car and secured a large padlock on the gate. By the time he pulled up to his house on Seymour Avenue, just a few blocks from where Knight lived, he'd convinced her to take one home for Joey.Ī tall chain-link fence surrounded the dilapidated, multi-story home, and trash was strewn across the lawn. They started talking about Knight's son, Joey, and then Castro mentioned that his dog had just had puppies.
Instead of driving straight to the social services meeting, he told her he had to make a quick stop at his house first. "Wow, you must live in this place," Knight said, as recounted in her memoir, Finding Me: A Decade of Darkness, a Life Reclaimed. She gratefully followed him out to his car.Ĭastro's orange Chevy was littered with Big Mac wrappers and Chinese food containers.
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"If you give me a second here, maybe I can show you how to get there," he said softly. While Knight had never met him, she'd seen photos of him on Emily's cell and overheard her talking to him on the phone.Ĭastro smiled. Standing before her was Ariel Castro, the father of a girl she knew from the neighborhood. "Oh my gosh, you're Emily's dad!" Knight said. Knight was about to walk out when she heard a male voice: "I know exactly where that is." She looked up and saw a man with thick, messy hair and a potbelly, dressed in black jeans and a stained flannel shirt.
She bought a soda and started asking people for directions. It was August 2002-years before smartphones and Google Maps-and after nearly four hours of wrong turns, Knight spotted the Family Dollar store. The appointment, with social services, was to discuss how she might regain custody of her 2-year-old son, who'd been placed in foster care a few months earlier after her mother's boyfriend got drunk and, Knight says, became abusive and broke the boy's leg. Michelle Knight was 21 years old, and she'd spent the past few hours searching for the location of a crucial meeting. A young woman walked into a Family Dollar store in Cleveland, exhausted, sweaty and desperate.
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