Brat Princess

Not San Franciso (Part 2)

"I can walk,"  I said when Mr. O. opened the back of the car. "Just get my bags, wiil you?"

Mr. O. laughed and mimicked me, saying, "Get my bags, will you?" in a whiny voice as he held the door opened for me. He indicated the porch at the front of the lodge, as if to say that I should go in there. I took a quick look around to see if I could escape. The pale cresent moon behind the silhouettes of trees didn't give off much light, but I could just about see gardens all around, although the shrubs were dense black. I decided that I'd have a better look in the morning and make a run for it when I had a better idea of where I was.

Mr. O. followed me up to the porch, without bringing in my bag, I noticed. The door was opened by a tall, black, athletic-looking man with a shaved head and a chiseled jaw line. In the combat gear he was wearing, he had the appearance of a soldier, and, like Mr. O., he was incredibly handsome. Buff, as Tiffany would say.

As soon as we got inside the wood-paneled reception area and the man had closed the door, I ran over and hid behind him. I didn't like where I was. The whole building looked shabby and smelled of mold and mushrooms. On a battered table in the corner was a potted plant with half of its leaves dried up due to lack of care. This wasn't a place I wanted to stay in for a moment longer than was neccessary.

"Quick, get the police," I said, as I pointed at Mr. O. "That man had kidnapped me."

"Is that right?" the man in combat gear chuckled. I nodded.

Mr. O. rolled his eyes as if he was exasperated, and then he examined his nails as if he was bored with me. "Now, why you think that?" he asked.

"Duh? I'm in a strange  country, brought here in a strange car by a stranger. You do the math."

"You haven't been kidnapped, Jessica," said the new man.

"How do you know my name? Oh, no. You're in it, too? Who are you?"

"My name is Lewis. I will be running the program."

"Program?! What program?"

Lewis turned to Mr. O. "You haven't told her, yet?"

Mr. O. shook his head.

"No. He hasn't told me anything. What kind of hotel is this, exactly?"

Lewis laughed. "Hotel? Hotel?" He held up his arms to indicate our surroundings. "This isn't a hotel. At least, not any longer. Oh, no. Those days are long gone. Now it's a boot camp."

"A boot camp?"

Mr. O. and Lewis nodded.

I felt an awful sinking feeling in my stomach. "And why am I here? Exactly?" I questioned, although I was beginning to get the picture.

And it wasn't looking good.

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A short update for today!!