Status: I wrote this when I was in seventh grade. Look away.
Far From Home
Cologne.
“No, you guys go prepare the basement, I’ll get her,” said a familiar voice from outside the van, waking me from my shallow sleep. After I had held down my food somehow, I spent the next few hours crying my eyes out. I was a lonely, scared, sobbing mess by the time I had managed to slowly drift off to sleep.
Though the dark haired boy treated me with a semi-decency and fed me, which I assumed he had done without permission judging by the way he acted, I still forced myself to treat him as hostile. Because nice people don't go around kidnapping teenagers. So when he pulled the van doors open, I pushed myself as far as I could against the back wall and stared at him with a menacing glare.
The sky behind him was almost pitch black, and the cool night air nipped at my skin softly.
For a brief moment, we made eye contact. His vivid green eyes returned the harsh glare, but I could see deep in his eyes a faint trace of sympathy. He knew now that I had caught onto his act, and he softened. "We can make this easy, or we can make this hard," he said softly.
"I choose hard," I growled. Though he tried not to show it, I saw him cringe from the harsh tone of my voice. "Whatever you say," he said with a shrug and crawled into the van. I had very little energy left, but I put my full effort into fighting him off of me as he tried to tie the rope around my wrists once more. "Calm down!" he commanded forcefully, "I'm not going to hurt you!"
"You aren't going to hurt me?" I snapped, "You've done nothing but hurt me. Do you think this is painless for me? Get off!"
The boy stopped trying to tie me up and stared at me for a few moments, and I swore he was going to reach out and hit me, but his eyes fell down to his shaking hands. He took a few deep breaths, as if to steady himself, then looked back up at me sincerely. "You have to understand that I'm not going to hurt you. I can make no promises about the other two men. But you have to trust me. Now, if you can just play along for the next few minutes, I can help you out in the long run. Sound simple?"
I had no time to respond before he had the rope tied firmly around my wrists, a bandana around my eyes, and shoved something in my mouth to prevent me from speaking. Then, with no effort whatsoever, I felt myself being hoisted up bridal style and carried.
I'm still not one hundred percent sure why, but in that moment when I was nestled into the neck of the sweet smelling boy, I felt safe.
I heard a door being opened, and from the echo of the dark haired boy's footsteps, I knew that we were indoors now. "Everything will be okay," he whispered faintly to me, and I relaxed completely in his arms. Maybe he really wasn't the bad guy in this situation.
"Thank you for carrying it in, I'll take it from here," a deep, unfamiliar voice said. 'Did he just call me an it?' "No, I've got it," my captor protested. I didn't have to look at him to know he was sneering at the other man. "What's your problem?" the voice sneered, "She's a captive. Not a playmate."
I could tell the brunette was about to say something, but before he could speak a pair of fierce arms jerked me from his possession and packed me farther into the building. I could tell this man was well built and very aggressive from the way he stormed through the place. There was a shuffling of feet behind us. "Let them go, you're only going to make him angry," said a third, more sophisticated sounding voice.
There was a creak much like the sound of an opening of a door, and I could feel my body gently bounced up and down as I was being carried down a staircase. "What a beauty," the deep voice cooed in an almost a sick, mocking way, and I felt his arms jerk upward, tossing me across the open space. I landed on the concrete floor with a loud thump, and lost consciousness for the third time in about 3 days.
Though the dark haired boy treated me with a semi-decency and fed me, which I assumed he had done without permission judging by the way he acted, I still forced myself to treat him as hostile. Because nice people don't go around kidnapping teenagers. So when he pulled the van doors open, I pushed myself as far as I could against the back wall and stared at him with a menacing glare.
The sky behind him was almost pitch black, and the cool night air nipped at my skin softly.
For a brief moment, we made eye contact. His vivid green eyes returned the harsh glare, but I could see deep in his eyes a faint trace of sympathy. He knew now that I had caught onto his act, and he softened. "We can make this easy, or we can make this hard," he said softly.
"I choose hard," I growled. Though he tried not to show it, I saw him cringe from the harsh tone of my voice. "Whatever you say," he said with a shrug and crawled into the van. I had very little energy left, but I put my full effort into fighting him off of me as he tried to tie the rope around my wrists once more. "Calm down!" he commanded forcefully, "I'm not going to hurt you!"
"You aren't going to hurt me?" I snapped, "You've done nothing but hurt me. Do you think this is painless for me? Get off!"
The boy stopped trying to tie me up and stared at me for a few moments, and I swore he was going to reach out and hit me, but his eyes fell down to his shaking hands. He took a few deep breaths, as if to steady himself, then looked back up at me sincerely. "You have to understand that I'm not going to hurt you. I can make no promises about the other two men. But you have to trust me. Now, if you can just play along for the next few minutes, I can help you out in the long run. Sound simple?"
I had no time to respond before he had the rope tied firmly around my wrists, a bandana around my eyes, and shoved something in my mouth to prevent me from speaking. Then, with no effort whatsoever, I felt myself being hoisted up bridal style and carried.
I'm still not one hundred percent sure why, but in that moment when I was nestled into the neck of the sweet smelling boy, I felt safe.
I heard a door being opened, and from the echo of the dark haired boy's footsteps, I knew that we were indoors now. "Everything will be okay," he whispered faintly to me, and I relaxed completely in his arms. Maybe he really wasn't the bad guy in this situation.
"Thank you for carrying it in, I'll take it from here," a deep, unfamiliar voice said. 'Did he just call me an it?' "No, I've got it," my captor protested. I didn't have to look at him to know he was sneering at the other man. "What's your problem?" the voice sneered, "She's a captive. Not a playmate."
I could tell the brunette was about to say something, but before he could speak a pair of fierce arms jerked me from his possession and packed me farther into the building. I could tell this man was well built and very aggressive from the way he stormed through the place. There was a shuffling of feet behind us. "Let them go, you're only going to make him angry," said a third, more sophisticated sounding voice.
There was a creak much like the sound of an opening of a door, and I could feel my body gently bounced up and down as I was being carried down a staircase. "What a beauty," the deep voice cooed in an almost a sick, mocking way, and I felt his arms jerk upward, tossing me across the open space. I landed on the concrete floor with a loud thump, and lost consciousness for the third time in about 3 days.