Chapter 5

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April's POV

I must have been kept in the room for what felt like a week. No-one came into the room - when I would wake up, there would be a tray of food left at the foot of my bed. But I couldn't eat. And no-one ever spoke. Despite the beautiful French windows overlooking the forest, the mere fact that it was a forest frustrated me. For as far as I could see, there were only trees, glorious trees. 

Oh great. (note sarcasm.) So much for a quick escape. 

Thinking about my family consumed most of my time - as well as fear of rape. But then, my mind lapsed into thinking of the most irrational fears and qualms I could think of. And then, I would lapse into a terribly depressive state again whilst thinking about the outside world and the sheer absurdness of the situation; I was so confused. I wanted to go home. 

How long had I been here for? 

Do my room mates know I'm gone? 

Don't people know I'm missing? 

Was there a freaking search party out there trying to find me? 

My phone must have slipped out when I was struggling with the kidnappers in the van, so I couldn't call for help. Instead, my knuckles were raw from pounding at the windows -  but judging by the height, it was safe to say that every single bone in my body would shatter from the impact of the jump. There weren't many secure footholds to help me scale the wall either; the ones that I could see were far too far apart for me to reach. Maybe I should just jump? But I couldn't - immediate danger hadn't painted my sight completely red and that small sliver of human hope kept me back.

Then, I began screaming and shouting and cursing every single foul curse my mother had ever told me never to say whilst kicking at the door. When no-one arrived, I combed through the room twice, searching for something, anything to help me. 

I managed to find a sharp ended comb, a heavy wooden box and an empty deodorant spray to use as potential weapons. Then, I ended up just sitting, the makeshift weapons clutched to my chest when I realized I was so very alone. 

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Jerkface - an atp name for him because he was a crappy excuse for a human being, strode into the room. I flipped upwards from where I was hanging from the bed, my body moving sluggishly into action. A cigarette dangled from his lower lip, but he wasn't inhaling the smoke. 

Gross.

I swallowed my disdain, sneered as best I could without him noticing and straightened up - it was all an act of course, I was nowhere near as brave as I was acting, because he caught on.

Leaning against the door frame, he glanced at my hands and frowned. "Why are your hands shaking?"

"T-they're not." Okay, yes. I wasn't being sarcastic and brave - but who would in a situation where you could be raped or trapped or sold. It wasn't the time for heroics, I said to myself.

"Yes they are."

"No. No they're not." I said, keeping my voice as non-confrontational as possible. 

He looked up again, his forehead smoothing out. I could feel myself beginning to hyperventilate. After a few moments, he clicked his tongue and raised two dark eyebrows, pushing himself off the frame. 

"You need to come with me," he said gesturing for me to follow. "Oh, and you may want to consider changing clothes. Maybe taking a shower. Maybe even bringing a comb to your hair?" He said smirking. Gee. Thanks. He was holding some clothes in his hand which I presumed were for me. 

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