Paint Me a Picture

I woke up tied to a chair. Well that's just great! This is all just fucking peachy! I was tied to a fucking chair in a room, in a building, on a street, in a neighborhood, in a fucking city that I knew no idea about. I wasn't even sure if I was still in the same fucking state!
"Calm down" I told myself, taking in a deep breath.
"Think straight" I looked around the room. It was your typical "I just got kidnapped" room. Blank walls and the only piece of funiture in the room was the one my ass was happily sitting on. Oh great. I stared at the plain door or was it more of a glare?
The door opened and my heart began to pound against my rib cage. I expected my father or something. He loved watching crime shows and shit. This looked like something his stupid ass would do, but no.
The two people who came in were the two people I hadn't expected to see.
"Greg? Frank?" Tears were burning at my eyes. What was going on?
"Hey" Frank smiled.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I yelled as the tears ran down my cheeks.
"Calm down" Greg said, rolling his eyes. I wanted to beat him to a pulp. I wanted to punch someone or something. Everything was twisting and contorting in the most fucked up ways. I wanted to die.
I wanted to live.
I wanted to do SOMETHING.
Anything other than what I was doing right now. It didn't matter if I went to hell. It didn't matter that Gerard would probably be upset. He would build a damn bridge and get over it. I was positive about at least that.
"Why did you take me? Why couldn't you just ask me to go with you?"
"That's no fun" Frank shrugged.
"What do you want?" I spat. I hated both of these two now. My chest was burning as they looked at each other.
"We were...hired" Greg said, pulling out a switchblade from his pocket.
"To do what?" my voice quivered as my eyes looked at the blade.
"To fuck your life up of course!"