I'm Fettered and Abused, Stand Naked and Accused

I woke up with a jolt. To see that I was in my bedroom, lying in my bed, the sheets pooled around me as I lay in some sexy lingerie.

The sun was glaring through a small gap in my curtains. Like they had been closed with agitation. A large headache was starting to form in the frontal lobe of my brain.

I tried to recollect the last thing that happened that I could remember, and the fact that it was one of Jude’s men putting a chloroform cloth over my mouth was not one of the most comforting.

Then another train of thought started to cross my mind, maybe it was all a dream. Maybe he didn’t kidnap me. I just walked straight home and fell asleep.

I looked at the alarm clock on my nightstand. Seeing the blue light flash: 6:13.p.m, I decided this would be the perfect time for me to get up. I was sure that I couldn’t sleep anymore.

After going over to my dresser and getting a black wife beater and some blue silk boxers, I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I walked over to the aluminum refrigerator and placed my hand on the black handle. My eyes flashed over the calendar that sat above the ice and water tap. I tried to figure out what day it was before I came to the conclusion that it was impossible. How long was I asleep?

I have hardly any contact to anyone on the outside world. Ever.

I shrugged my shoulders and decided that I could just play it by ear. I’ll do whatever the fuck I wanted, who cares about what day it was?

I have hardly been going to school for three years and every year I get an average of 70 percent on my exams. What was the point of going to school if I wasn’t learning anything new? Not to mention I was getting better scores than most people who actually went.

I grabbed a sugar free red bull out of the refrigerator and picked up the phone that sat atop the marble counter. As I picked it up from the cradle, I noticed that the red light was flashing that said I had voice messages. I sighed loudly and pressed the play button.

Hopefully it was something important, like when my parents were due home.

"You have twenty-six new messages."

The robotic lady spoke, I groaned and slammed the can onto the table top, leaning my elbows on the marble by the receiver, I readied myself for the messages. Hoping that if one of them were from my parents that it was close to the start.

“Frances, honey, it’s your mother. Where are you? You’re meant to be studying for your exams, have you arranged an interview for any of the universities that me and your father had picked out? Harvard, Brown, oh god, of course you haven’t. Well, at least your grandmother - no, you’re a good girl, just, give me a ring to let me know, okay? I shouldn’t be due home for about seven more days and your father after wards will be going straight to Romania for business so I want you to buckle down and by the time I get back I expect you to be enrolled in a Ivy league college.”

I couldn’t actually listen to the rest of the message; her voice was making me sick.

"Message deleted."

“Frances, its Val!”

My grandma’s voice made me smile. Last year at the Christmas party she started dancing on the dinner table to Ludicris. She wasn’t even drunk. She was just awesome like that naturally.

It was hard to believe some so stuck up and bitchy like my mother came from someone like my grandma who was awesome and so down to earth.

“Your mother rang me, apparently you’re meant to be having important interviews with college’s? Eh, you should be out partying with all those male models. I heard all the fashion was colour? You know, I’ve been known to go out to a couple of clubs and rip it up these past couple of years, this one man I met there-”

I pressed the delete button. Sure my grandma was kick ass, but she could talk a mile a minute and not shut up. I ran my fingers through my hair. Trying to get out all the knots. God, when was the last time I brushed my hair? Wait, I didn’t even know what the fuck was going on, was I dreaming that I had seen Jude kill people or was I actually there. Luckily the sound of my friends’ voice cut me off.

“Yo! Francis! Where the fuck have you been? There’s a party being thrown at mine on Friday, since I never fucking see you anymore, your skinny little ass is going to be at mine. Laters.”

I sighed; I was really not in the mood to go to one of Noah’s parties. He didn’t even party, he caused chaos. Last time I was at one of his parties, me, Noah, and some other friends had ended up having to run from the police at three in the morning. I didn’t even remember what I had done wrong.

I pressed the button to delete all the messages and picked up the phone. Walking out of the kitchen and across the hall to the lounge. I grabbed the remote off the couch and turned on the television, muting it. I cracked open my can of red bull and dialled the numbers to Noah’s cell phone.

“Hello?” His voice answered, he sounded rushed and panicked.

“Noah? Are you alright?”

“Francis! Holy fuck! I was about to come over and see you, I haven’t seen you in days and days, whats up?

“Uhh, I'm calling to ask when the party’s on.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “It starts in… two hours. You're coming right? I have the perfect guy you have to meet.”

I sighed loudly, how fucking long had I been sleeping? And when was the last time I checked my messages?

“Sure,” I said feigning happiness. I liked Noah, I really did, he was the only person in the school that seemed genuine, and liked me for me. “What’s the guy like?”

“Bitch, he is smoking. He’s about 20, I met him through school. He’s tall, has brown hair, and I heard that he’s great in the sack.”

I didn’t even have to try to ignore his comment, “You have a boyfriend? What’s his name?”

He giggled and spoke in fast words, “His name is Peter, he’s a little bit older but he is loaded and he is really hot and he is funny!”

“Oh” I cooed, “He sounds great, hopefully I’ll be able to meet him tonight, yeah?”

“Of course,” he laughed.

My conversation with Noah went on for another 20 minutes before I decided that I had better shower and get ready for the party.

I got out of the shower and wrapped a plush purple towel around me, I walked over to my closet and pulled out this.

I grabbed my cell phone, brushed my hair quickly, applied some mascara, and walked out of the house. Not bothering to lock it. No doubt someone was home, I just never found them.

Cough cough, couldn’t be fucked, cough.

It was a fifteen minute walk from my house to Noah’s and from a block away I could already hear the pumping music and people cheering.

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I should have been mourning that Russian man’s death? If he actually died and it wasn’t a dream…

I walked up the drive, seeing people drinking, and talking, cars already lining down the street.

I walked into the house and immediately Noah found me, popping out from god knows where.

“Francis!” he yelled, pulling me into his embrace. “This is Peter, Peter this is Francis.”

I said hi and smiled. Noah, was right, he was a little bit older, but he was really hot.

He had a little bit of facial hair, he had broad shoulders, with blonde hair. It was all swishy and messy.

Noah suddenly grabbed my arm and yanked me through the crowd, and straight into the kitchen. Peter laughed and tried to keep up with Noah’s pace behind us. We came to what I assumed was the guy I was suppose to meet.

“Oliver! This is Francis, Francis this is Oliver,” he turned around from getting as drink and smiled down at me. He said hello and I replied.

Peter shook hands with Oliver before he spoke. “Oliver works with me.”

I watched as Noah giggled and then explained further, “Peter owns a record store. We’ll just leave you little kiddies alone.”

“Francis, right?” he asked, I nodded. “Would you like a drink?”

“Sure.”