Breaking the Lie

So we had lunch, and I had no more of a conclusion of what or who that guy was. So I decided to forget it, at least for now. Well, it turned out I forgot about it for a month. Until I was harshly bought back down to Earth by my kidnapping.

I was lying on my bed, looking up at the moving constellation patterns on my ceiling, when it happened. My room was locked, hiding me away from unwanted guests and it was after dinner and I was completely bored.

Of course the bad thing about looking at the ceiling, with earphones stuck in your ears and pumped up to full volume, you generally don’t notice what’s going on around you. That is, until leather glove is clamped around your mouth and a strong pair of hands have grasped your wrists together.

I wasn’t completely unprepared; I was the daughter of the head Elitist. I had defence classes. Sadly, I was never the athletic type, I had the right build, but sport-wise and I was average at best. Which was absolutely no use against two strong men.

So I did what every other girl would have done in my shoes. Or in this case slippers. I kicked and screamed. Naturally, my thrashing around only angered them, so the next think I know the world went black.

* * * * * * *

When I opened my eyes the world was spinning. Had I fallen asleep on my desk again? Why else would I be on a chair? I mean I was still wearing my oversized T-Shirt, shorts and slippers. Man, I wish my hair wouldn’t fall in my face. Hang on, why can’t I move my hands?

The world jolted back into focus. The men who had kidnapped me from my room! Where had they taken me? It seemed like I was in a tent, it did smell awfully like the woods. This was bad for two reasons: we were definitely out of the city, which meant all my equipment wouldn’t work and I hated the country and I’m a born and bred city girl, I grew up with technology and concrete, not primitive tools and dirt.

My thoughts were cut short by a man walking into the tent. He was quite tall, with a hooded sweatshirt that covered his face in shadows.

I started shrieking, “Hey! What are you doing? Don’t you know who I am?” Well duh. They did kidnap you. Stupid voice.

He said nothing and just took out a knife out of his pocket.

I shut up. This did not look good. When I imagined dying, I thought it would be at a nice old age, not as a teenager.

The man strode over to me and I started shaking violently. I wanted to say something, but my brain was paralysed by overwhelming fear. He walked behind me, and I waited to feel the sharp instrument slice into my back, instead I felt my bonds being cut.

I looked over at him questionably; I quickly decided that running away wasn’t my best option as this guy wasn’t going to kill me straight away. Looked like playing along was my best option. As soon as my bonds were undone he grabbed me by the wrist. He had a strangely strong grip.

My brain kicked back into motion, “Where are we going? Who are you? Why have you taken me? Can you talk?”

He still said nothing and continued to drag me further into the woods. I chose to analyse my surroundings. Well, we were defiantly in a forest. Which forest exactly, I had no idea. What else? Well it had lots of trees and birds. Useless.

We had now come to clearing where a gathering of people stood in a circle. They all wore hoods, like mystery guy who was leading me and the uneasy feeling in my stomach grew even more. Not that I looked very closely. I had more pressing matters on my mind.

There at the head of the Circle, stood a guy dressed in a hooded cloak. Mystery Guy pushed me in front of him.

I decided to let Him have the first move, but when he said nothing I decided Attack was the best form of Defence.

I let it rip, “Who the hell are you? Why am I here? Kidnapping is a crime; I’m going to have you arrested on the spot. I demand to be sent home.”

He finally spoke, “Oh, you demand do you? Well demands will get you nowhere. This ain’t home. It’s the real world.”

I deflated, “What do you want with me?” He threw back his hood. I gasped, “You’re the same age as me.”

Well he looked like it anyway. I guessed he was 15, 16, I couldn’t be sure exactly. He had short black hair, and bright blue eyes, that were filled with coldness as he looked at me. What was more surprising was that he was the boy I had seen at the Towers a month ago.

“That is beside the point. I’m probably twice as smart and twice as athletic as you,” he sneered.

I bristled, “Oh yeah, well whatever you want I’m not giving it to you.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“What exactly do you want?”

“We want your help.”