Oh, Pineapples.

30: Darker red Elmo.

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"I wanna be alone...alone with you, if that makes sense,"
–billie eilish, 'hostage'
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Remember when I said the worst thing ever was spiders? Yeah well that was poor judgement, considering I'd never been kidnapped by the same people who possibly shot my own best friend.

Oh my God. Bryson.

Besides the the strong wave of nausea that washed over me, a stronger wave of realisation that hit me contributed to my inability to have a grip on reality.

Reality being the fact that I had been tied to the leg of a table, where a chandelier hung over.

Reality was that my head throbbed worse with every movement I made in attempt to escape, to look around and find out where I was being held hostage.

Reality was that Bryson was dead.

And in those few moments I had regained consciousness, I had gone from being sad to being angry.

Angry at them for trying to shoot me. Angry that they shot Bryson instead of me.

I should be dead right now.

But it didn't help to be angry because, let's face it, they had the upper hand. They had my hands tied to the table with a nylon rope that I wouldn't escape out of anytime soon.

Who were they?

Why were they trying to shoot me?

The room was cold, dim—almost completely dark if it weren't for the chandelier. There wasn't a single window in sight, so I figured I must have been in a basement, also judging by the fact that the stairs led upwards to a door.

I could feel hunger clawing at the insides of my stomach. Or was it the cold? Bryson's blood covered my dress as though it were part of the dress's design. When I looked at it long enough it looked like Elmo, but a darker red Elmo.

Sadness makes your heart heavy. Literally. I'd always thought it was an exaggeration everytime I'd read it in a novel. It felt as though all the memories I had of Bryson added on the heaviness of my heart.

How was I gonna go on without Bryson?

For some reason, I couldn't get rid of Elmo's world theme song out of my head.

Nana–nana, nana–nana, Elmo's worlddd.

Javadd.

I hated how things that didn't even remind me of him reminded me of him. He was always in my mind. Like a parasite. And I was definitely sick. Love really should start to be categorised as a sickness. I started wondering what he was doing at that very moment, while I was being held hostage.

I already had a mental image of his face, full of concern if he had seen me in my condition. He would have probably pulled me close because he'd immediately know I was cold, even without telling him. It's like he had me figured out. I couldn't decide if I hated it more than I missed it.

More than I missed him.

It was at the moment I was trying to curl my legs towards my body for warmth I heard footsteps in the distance. And as though it was the only chance I had of escaping, I clung to it, I listened intently.

"...Well shit, you were not supposed to bring a gun, were you? That wasn't part of the plan!" A man's voice boomed, although a little muffled and I assumed it was outside the door.

"C'mon I was just tryna scare her,"

"By shooting her fucking friend?"

They were talking about me.

"Okay, so he caught a stray bullet, big deal. That was none of my fault. If he hadn't tried to play superman, then he could've been in a way better place right now," his voice was a shrug as though he hadn't taken a person's life.

Bryson's life.

"Look man, I didn't want none of this— I wasn't tryna catch a body, man. That wasn't part of the deal," he pondered, his voice lower.

Whoever the second person was, he was most probably responsible for Bryson, and for holding me hostage.

I immediately hated him.

"Okay, Collin. No need to get all emotional and righteous. You should really do a TEDtalk. I bet you'd make a shit ton more than whatever you're being paid here. Just saying."

"I'm starting to think working with you was a bad idea. Its only because Mrs O'Brien insists we keep you on this. Lord knows why."

Mrs O'Brien? Could it be a coincidence? Or could it actually be a person related to Javadd?

"I'm gonna find out what time her plane is landing so we can get this over and done with,"

Get what over and done with?

"Ooh...does that mean I get a chance to finally introduce myself to the hostage?" His voice betrays amusement, making me wonder why he's so insistent to meet me.

"Whatever. I really don't give a fuck." I hear the footsteps fade.

The door to the basement opens and then I pretend to sleep. I don't know why I do so, but it feels like the right thing to do.

"Ah. If it isn't Jasmine Fleur Wilson." His voice sounds oddly familiar and my brain can't pinpoint where exactly I've heard it from.

I didn't respond as my face is buried in my knees.

"You can stop pretending to sleep now. I can see you flinch, you know." I could hear him walk towards me.

"Oh, Jasmine. You don't know how much I've missed you," I can tell he just kneeled in front of me.

Oh no. No. It can't be. It couldn't be.

I lift my head up, so I can confirm my suspicions with my own eyes.

Fucking pineapples.

"Travis?"

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A/N

there it is, ladies and gentlemen. the beginning of the end *evil laughs

don't be a silent reader, comment/vote/share:)

kisses and pineapples
–nicole<3