𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

Blake Farmer

"What did you do?" The voice rumbled, bouncing off of the concrete walls. The tone of his voice seemed to leave vibrations through the metal chair.

"I'll ask you again, what did you do?!" Each time he said it, he got louder. "Answer me!"

The pounding of the man's voice made his ears throb.

"We did as you asked, sir," a smaller voice replied. Shaking out of nerves, hands trembling as they were being tied to the chair.

The man walked over and stood in front of them. "Do I look like an idiot to you boys?" 

Blake shook his head and avoided the sharp silver eyes that seemed to point daggers directly into his chest.

"Good," the man seemed to walk back towards the door where a blonde kid stood. 

"We'll be back." He called, and then left with the kid behind him, leaving chills go up Blake's spine.

Silence filled the air between them. Seconds were turning into minutes.

"You shouldn't have done that," the guy beside him said.

"I had no choice."

"We're going to get killed, moron. And it's all of your fault."

Blake scoffed, shaking his head. "I did what I had to do. I want to get out of here as much as you do."

"Seriously?! What do you expect to happen?"

"I don't know, maybe the cops are onto us now."

"Oh great, thanks, as soon as we get freed we're heading to jail!"

"I'd rather be in a prison cell than this place."

"Whatever," He muttered. Blake looked down at the concrete floor of the basement they were trapped in. 

Six days, two hours, forty-seven minutes, fifty-nine seconds...

Six days, two hours, forty-eight minutes, one second...

He wondered if his mother thought he was dead yet. He wondered if someone had called the cops or an AMBER alert was sent out.

What if nobody noticed? What if nobody cared that he was gone? It wasn't like he was impacting anyone's life. Who would be aware of him not being around?

Sitting there in the cold, musky basement, he kept thinking.

"You okay?" Jacob finally called out.

"Just thinking," Blake replied, blinking so no warm tears would come spilling out.

"I think my arms are going numb, I can't feel them," Jacob kept wiggling in his spot. The chair kept moving and created a screeching sound on the floor.

"Your blood circulation is being cut off, you should have taken off that jacket."

"Right, like I had time to take off the jacket."

"You shouldn't even have put it on."

"It was laying there, useless, what was I supposed to do?"

"You and I both know it belonged to that guy on the train."

"It's called a subway, country boy, and-" Jacob paused, leaning himself towards the door.

"What is it?" Blake asked.

"Can't you hear it? Someone's coming."

They immediately silenced again and sat waiting. They could hear stomps from outside of the bolted door.