Missing [ST]

Twelve

It must've been mid morning, and Leah was hungry. It was either that, boredom, pain, or all three if her emotions were feeling particularly generous.

She was hungry because she had only consumed a cheeseburger and a medium portion of fries in the last twenty four hours. It had been out of this world, but it was not enough to brighten her dull spirits or keep her energy up for long.

In that moment after, Leah had been so close to making a noise. Yell at the top of her lungs, bash against the door until her fists throbbed. It would easily grab someone's attention if they weren't already waiting for it.

She'd make a run for it in that split second, sprint as fast as her legs could carry her out of the house and into the night. She'd keep going as far away as possible and never once would she look back.

She even imagined it now.

Trouble was, there were a few blaring problems that she had kept coming back to. First and foremost, she didn't think she could outrun them. It was as simple as that. The guys all seemed strong, well built, and they were definitely physically fitter than her.

The other issues that were addressed in her own debate included that she was outnumbered five to one, and she had no idea about weapons. Blondie, as Leah had named him, had revealed a pocket knife but it was such a standard piece of kit, she sort of assumed they all owned one. She remained unsure about guns, but if they did have them, it probably meant they weren't afraid to use them, especially if she tried a neat trick like escaping.

Then there was the one that bugged her the most; she wasn't being treated in the worst possible way. Albeit, far from a luxurious lifestyle, but Leah had been imagining the very low of lows, and this was not even close, although, at the rate her meals were going, she wasn't safe just yet.

Leah must have dozed off again, because a slam jolted her awake. The window didn't overlook the front, but she was positive she could hear a faint rumble of an engine and all of her remaining energy drained. If yesterday was anything to go by, she was about to be alone for the rest of the day, except this time on an even emptier stomach.

She returned to her spot on the floor, her make-shift bed as it were, and stared at her socks. Her shoes were also part of those short term memories that had just vanished.

It was exhausting doing nothing; Leah almost felt delusional, so when the lock rattled, she had a scary thought that she was beginning to hallucinate things that weren't real, and that the van had never left.

Her eyes didn't need to lift much more to see the male figure standing ahead of her, someone she recognised easily as Blondie. He wore black jeans and a plaid printed overcoat, but today he did not hold anything in his hands.

"I'm going to get straight to the point," he stated, remaining in the doorway. "There's food in the kitchen, and you can help yourself to what you want."

Leah didn't move. She didn't speak. She didn't even attempt to open her mouth to formulate words to reply. She didn't really do anything except blink occasionally, and breathe at a slow, uncertain pace.

"And um...i-it's not a trap. I promise," he added, probably feeling a little awkward with her silence. He looked the part with the restless movement his hands had opted for, and tried to look at something else every so often. Even Leah felt awkward watching him act awkward, and it was entirely her fault for showing no enthusiasm.

"Oh yeah, nice one. She's really going to feel assured now."

The remark was another voice, someone who must have been just outside and eavesdropping in the background, because he revealed himself not a second later and nudged the awkward figure out the way.