The Hirt

Chapter Two

2

            Her screams were muffled by the hand.  Heather clawed at the cold, rough hand and she tried digging her feet into the ground, but nothing worked.  The body dragging Heather was just too strong.  It felt like she was being suffocated; she could hardly breathe through the muffling hand.  She was pulled around to the side of the house where the person surprisingly stopped.  The hand miraculously let go, and Heather collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.  She coughed and sputtered on the muddy ground, trying to allow air back into her lungs.  The person who had grabbed her just stood there, patiently waiting for her to regain her breath.  When she finally did, she looked up to see who her kidnapper was.  She did a double take when she saw who it was.

            “You,” Heather’s eyes narrowed at him.

            “Hi,” The cute, creepy, British boy looked incredibly uncomfortable under Heather’s hate glare.

            “Oh, no. No, no no no.  What are you doing here? What is wrong with you?” Heather quickly tried scrambling to her feet, but she was still too disoriented.

            “Wait, please.  Let me just talk,” The boy implored.  This plea made Heather pause in her struggle to stand up.

            “Are you psychotic?!  You just practically killed me!  Why in the world would I listen to you?”

            “Because I know for a fact that you have an innate instinct to trust me.”  Heather finally gave up the fight to her feet. She dejectedly sat down, brought her knees up towards her chest, rested her arms on her knees, and pondered how this stranger knew all these things about her and what she felt.  She sighed, and looked up at him.  The boy sat down in front of her, but left enough space so that Heather didn’t feel threatened.  “Look, I know this seems creepy, okay?  Believe me, I get it.  But, you and I? We have a connection unlike anything you can imagine.  It doesn’t make much sense now, I know, but I can explain it all.  I promise.  At this point, you just have to trust me.”

            Heather eyed him suspiciously, and said, “Well, if you can explain all this nonsense, why don’t you do it now?”

            “I can.  But not here. We have to go somewhere else.  I don’t really care; a coffee shop, restaurant, city park, wherever.  You can choose,” The boy said, hope slowly showing in his eyes. 

            “So, let me get this straight.  The first time I meet you, you grab my arm so hard that you practically cut off my circulation, scaring me half to death.  The second time, you pretty much kidnap me and almost suffocate me.  And now, you want me to go with you somewhere so you can ‘explain everything.’  How do I know you’re not going to hurt me for a third time?”

            “Alright, I will admit it, the whole kidnapping idea probably wasn’t the best.  I apologize for almost killing you.  But, if I was planning on killing or hurting you, wouldn’t I have had done it already, while we are alone behind a house instead of a public place where there would be eye witnesses everywhere?” The incredibly good-looking boy reasoned with her, an adorable half smile on his face.

            Heather sighed, rolled her eyes, shook her head, and said, “God, why does that make so much sense?”  She then stood up, wiped the mud off her hands onto her jeans, and suggested, “I like coffee.”  The boy jumped up, beaming, and said, “Thank you! Thank you so much! Everything will make sense, I promise!  Come on, we don’t have much time.”  He took off towards Heather’s car with huge strides.  Heather scurried behind him, thinking Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?