I Got a Gun the Other Day,It's Cute, Small, Fits Right In My Pocket

It was dark. But not sit in a closet and stuff towels under the door dark. I'm talking Cave dark. The kind of dark that you can't see your very hand that is outstretched before you. The kind of dark that you can't tell if your eyes are open or closed. That is real dark.

I tried to scream but my delicate lips were bonded together with a thick layer of duct tape. I felt like I could not breathe. The air was thick and hazy. Very un-cave like. Than I tried my arms, they where tied so tight I could feel my hands going purple. My legs were also in that dreadful state, loosing all blood in my limbs.

I heard breathing from maybe about four yards away. It was heavy and raspy, like the owner of that breath just finished running the Boston Marathon. The sound sent ripples of fear up and down my spine.

"Jessica," it said softly.

My heart skipped a beat or two and I stared to panic. It knew my name!

"So tell me a little about yourself Jessica. What is your mother's name? Do you have any siblings, where did you grow up, and who is this mysterious man that treats you like his little slave?"

"I don not know who you are talking about." I was dead scared at this point.

"Yes you do, and I know that you know you do." The voice was gradually getting closer. I could almost smell him. He smelt like stale cigars and… what I believe was death.

"No, I do not know who you speak of."

Than I felt it, it sounded like a belly fop onto water. It was the contact of skin-to-skin. Leaving what felt like a nasty red mark from my earlobe to my chin. It made my eyes swell and my teeth clench.

"Are you ready to tell me now?"

The pain was unbearable but I couldn't never blow my cover. Than it came again, I guess I was too quiet for too long. All I wanted to do was to rip the head off the owner of the hand that repeatedly hurt me. But I couldn't, even with my near to super human strength. The one who tied me knew what I was capable of. Than another blow came to the opposite side, he was waiting for an answer.

I felt a warmness cover my mouth area. The semi salty taste simulated my sensitive taste buds. It was the taste of blood. The motherfucker was making my mouth bleed like crazy. I felt the warm liquid trickle down my throat since there was no other place to go.

The unpleasant feeling of blood hitting stomach overwhelmed me.

I started to squirm and attempted to talk.

There was a chuckle from the voice. I swear it keeps getting closer and closer…

"I see we are ready to talk." I could not see the hand but I felt it brush against my flush skin, ripping out the duct tape that was holding my mouth together. It left a burning sensation from ear to ear. I couldn't help but cringe for a moment.

"What is your full name?" he asked in a sly voice.

"Jessica Marie Thompson." I whispered to the voice. It felt eerily quiet for a moment in this cave like room.

Than the voice spoke, "very good, what is your mother's name?"

Again I paused, thinking if I should lie or tell him the truth. "Her name is Stephanie Marie Johnson." I bit my lip.

"You share a middle name?"

I nodded slowly, knowing that he couldn’t see it. "Yes."

I couldn't sense the man smirk, "What did she do."

I thought for a moment, there was no way that he knew her occupation. "She was a social worker."

"Lie!" the voice yelled and this time I felt a sharp pain in my knee. The fucker must have dislocated it. It hurt like a bitch. I let out an involuntary yelp and yearned to comfort my knee.

"It's…"

"Do not lie to be Jessica," the voice boomed. Than the voice became quieter, "she wasn't a social worker, now was she?" He was talking to me as if I was a child.

"No" I scoffed.

"Thank what was she…" The voice started.

I swung my legs using all the abdominal muscles I had, making the rope snap like a whip. I struck my leg out and my foot connected to a leg, creating a thump on the hard floor. From there I started to use my razor sharp teeth at the rope that bonded my hands. The rope was thick and I was running out of time before someone came and strapped me back down.

There wasn't any possible way that the rope was going to fray enough for me to make my getaway. So I buckled my legs under me and ran with the chair still attached to my waist and hands still stuck together. Every muscle screamed as I pounded the concrete. The chair smacked the back of my legs in rhythm to my pace. Growing redder and redder with each hit. I ran like a chicken with its head cut off. My senses blared trying to make sense of my lack of light in this place. The only thing I had to go by was the mere echo of my footsteps and the smell of city air.

The chair got heavier and heavier, dragging me down, making my muscles cry bloody murder. I wanted to break down, but I was too tough to do that. I was only human though…

A crack of thunder echoed and heat zipped my right ear. I panicked and tripped over my own panic-stricken feet. Creating injuries on my legs, forearms and face. The familiar taste of blood touched upon my taste buds, making them sob.

"Thought you could get away kitty, well think again."