Hostage

Stupider.

I am shivering all over and my toes feel numb. I am waiting for them to snap off and sit silent at my feet. My hands itch from the cuffs over my hands and the window continues to spit out a dry breeze. My knees are red raw from being dragged here and the Beetles 'Stayin' Alive' is playing meekly on the car's radio.

I know, the sickest bit of humor I've heard since today.

I am currently in handcuffs, sitting in an old Mustang, the air outside so dry I am tempted to drink the blood of my hands. There are bars instead of seats in front of me and a pale driver is nodding his head to the tune. I am looking outside my window, wondering how long I will survive in this place.

The scenery outside is a far cry from how I feel, making me even more angry. There are green hills and blooming flowers growing outside, every where we pass there are always smiling children, beaming mothers and hearty fathers. You really don't see this kind of thing in the city. All that's there to see are half naked teens and old people just trying to get by.

 In the orphanage, they had threatened they would take me out of their place and into a farmland and I had begged them not to. I think I was 12 then. Honestly I don't really see what's so bad...

I wont lie, I tried to chat with the driver. Told him crazy stories on the way, and one time I even saw him smile. Good times...

Now fear  has enveloped me so much I wont even as much as squeak. At least that's what I think, I don't really notice anything shifty or unusual. The only threat to my life I have received is when I was shoved into the car. The anticipation is killing me. I'd much rather they kill me now than all the wait.

I wonder how my father is doing. Honestly, even being his daughter, I still don't know what his reaction would be. I mean, I was never his real daughter anyway, why would he cry for me. As far as I am concerned, I'm worthless compared to a superstar like him.

We all knew the story, heartthrob at 20 decides to play a lot of female actors, keeps throwing random girls around, has sex and goes to parties. All the girls want him, all the guys want to be him bla bla bla. And then he turns 30 and oh so suddenly falls in love. Has a wife, has a home, he's happy. 

Then she was pregnant. For all the nine months she was pregnant, all the media wanted to know was, was the baby going to be cute? Was he going to be overweight or underweight? Would he be white or black? Would he be hot? Finally, it was time to give birth, and as they enter the room, the world was breathing heavily, and then the outcome was finally heard. The world was in shock and in sorrow as it spread through the media. The sad fact that lives' had been lost. The baby, as well as the mother.

It took twelve fucking years before he entered the acting industry again, and when he came back, he came back with a daughter.

Me.

Before I know it, it is night time and my thoughts diminish. I look up to see Devon staring down at me, and I frown.

'You weren't in the car. Were you?'

He continues to stare at me. Finally he answers 'You should pay more attention to things, Kira.'

Wait a minute. 'How do you know my name?'

He doesn't answer, instead he turns to the driver. 'Get out.'

The pale man, who looks too skinny to be normal, wearing a purple butler's garb, stands up and leaves to a motel in front of us. I watch him as he climbs the steps, no thinking twice, clearly defeated.

I lightly tapped my neck, and the necklace inside my shirt.

Devon noticed, but said nothing.

The wind continued to whistle in our ears , and I could tell that Devon was unnerved and cautious ,probably itching to say something, but I liked the silence. Most people don't like silence, and end up filling it with words to relax themselves. But I find silence comforting, much more relaxing than thinking about what to say to another person, and when that silence is filled with words, and I am forced to speak, that is what unnerves me.

Then again, I was interrupting the peace of a sad lonely driver a few minutes ago, so who am I to be spouting poetic verses.

I finally turn my attention to him, an he looks away, having been caught watching me.

'You should take a picture. Lasts longer.' I say dryly.

He raised an eyebrow at me. Same old line. His face clearly said. It's disturbing how well I can read his emotions.

I look away when I realize I am staring. His brown hair looks like dough in the moonlight, and his eyes are now green instead of brown, probably contacts, and his cheeks look painfully thin, like he hadn't eaten in a while. But even with all this there is no question that he is attractive.

I find I am staring again, and he has definitely noticed. I pretend to be looking at the motel instead. 'Can we go in now? Unlike you, I'm not quite prepared for the elements.'

He was wearing a black hoodie and sweater wrap under that, but all I had was a baggy tee-shirt and jeans.

He opened the door for me. 'Get out.'

'You have a very small vocabulary. It wont get you any friends.'

He glared at me and began to walk towards the stairs the driver had followed, and I began to follow him.

His coat began to billow behind him, slapping my face. I whisked away to find out that he was staring at me, trying not to laugh.

Ughh. What was it with this boy and laughing at me?

Irritated, I walked passed him and towards the stairs I had see the driver climb until I reached a battered metal door.

Devon tried to warn me. 'You probably shouldn't open that....'

I opened it any way, to see a bunch of naked men, dancing and drinking. At least until they saw me.

If they could have made a screeching noise, I bet they would, but the music continued to roar softly in the background. Until one of them used their eyes to asses me.

Awkward silence.

Very awkward silence.

A different one said 'Someone hired a maid? She's got a good body. Maybe she'd want to party with us.'

The driver who had brought me here was naked as well and stumbling around, obviously drunk, in the background.

I was still frozen and I could here Devon screeching like a hyena bellow me.

The bastard! Once I catch him I'll...

One of the men tried to approach me, and I slammed the door shut.

I began to walk down furiously to see Devon squatting and practically dying of laughter. What kind of man would laugh with glee when a woman was about to be molested, I ask you? WHAT kind of man?

By the time I had reached him he was sprawling on the floor and tears were streaming down his eyes. He was so goddamned amused. Was it that embarrassing?

He tried to calm himself down, taken even breaths, then he faced me, feigning a serious expression. 'Why didn't you go in?'  

'You SON OF A...'

He erupted in another volley of laughter. I was NOT amused. For some reason, my cheeks were hot and my stomach was flipping. The sight of his amused face almost wiped all my anger away. But there was plenty to go around now.

'Can we just go?' I muttered angrily.

He looked up at my read cheeks and sighed. He began to rise from the ground. He was still smiling though.

'God. you couldn't have acted Stupider.'