Hater pt. 2

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"Good lord, what's this guy doing?"Paul asks, looking at me. When he sees the fear in my eyes he completely turns to me. "What's wrong?" He asks, worried. "It's the man from last night,"I say simply and Paul turns to the man, anger in his eyes. The man quickly comes to my door and opens it. He yanks me out of my seat onto the unforgiving pavement. By now cars are honking at us to move, but stop when they see what the man is doing. Paul jumps out of his side and comes around, but the man kicks him, sending him to the ground. He puts a bag over my head, so I try to kick towards him, but he picks me up. I hit his back, hoping to hurt him, but he just puts me in the seat of a car and I feel the movement when the car starts to move. I try to remove the bag, but it's tied in a way I can't figure out how to undo. I try to scream, but I feel something sharp being held to my neck. "Shut up, or I'll cut out your tongue." I shut up, knowing he isn't joking. I'm stuck sitting in the car, not knowing where we're going. I finally feel the car come to a stop and the driver's door opening. My door is pulled open and I'm being roughly dragged out of the car. He brings me inside and sits me down in a chair. He pulls the bag to show a surprisingly normal-looking house. "I told you to give me your job. I'm more deserving of it than you. Now I won't let you go until I get that job. And as a little more encouragement, I'll cut you every 15 minutes." "And how do you plan on me giving you my job?" I ask, I don't expect he'll let me use a phone. "I don't know, but you can't use my phone." "If I can't contact them, then how can I tell them to give you my job?" I ask, and hold back a chuckle when his expression changes to confusion. "That's your problem,"he says, walking out of the room. I just sit and think, not having much else to do. When he comes back he's holding a knife. I sigh, I've dealt with worse pain. He walks over and grabs my hand and slices my arm just before my wrist. At least he's smart enough not to cut there. "Can I at least have a computer? Then I can e-mail them," I ask, but he shakes his head.

About an hour and 15 minutes later he finally relents and lets me use the computer. I get up and type in my name and password and send an e-mail to Paul.

Hey Paul,

I don't know much, but I can tell you I'm in a blue house in a normal neighborhood. Be quick.

The man's so stupid he's not checking to see what I'm writing, so I easily send it off without trouble. He comes back in and takes the computer. "I told him to give you my job. He said he'd e-mail me back when he's finished the paperwork,"I tell him, hoping he believes me. "How long before you hear from him?" "I don't know. I've never had to deal with that," it's true, Lewis did all the paperwork for me a few days ago. He leaves again, this time in a huff. When he comes back he had the knife again. "Check to see if he responded," he orders me, so I get on the computer and check my e-mail. I see one from Paul,"Don't worry, we're coming. The police are really close to finding where he has you." I shake my head,"not yet." I hope they get here soon. I'm starting to feel weird from these cuts. He sighs and cuts again.

Suddenly there's sirens outside and Enyo comes rushing in. "What have you done?" He yells, hitting my cut arm. I let out a yelp, the pain returning. The police don't even knock, they just break in. Before Enyo has any time to react they have him on the ground. They untie me and help me to the ambulance. I hate the hospital, if I had a choice I wouldn't go. They let me sit up, instead of laying down on the gurney. When we get there they numb my arm and stitch it up. Then they bandage it and let me go, telling me to come back in 10 days to have them removed. I walk out into the waiting room to see everyone sitting. I clear my throat to catch their attention. Paul runs over and hugs me. "Thank god! We where so worried about you!" He says, letting go. Sam looks at my arm and frowns. "What did he do to you?" "Cut it, it's not that bad. He was an idiot, he wouldn't let me use the phone or a computer for the longest time. I don't know how he expected me to do what he was asking without being able to contact you. He finally let me use the computer, and he didn't check to see what I was writing," I say, chuckling. "Thank god he didn't," Duncan says. "Why don't you two head home. You probably want to get some rest," Lewis says to Paul and I. I nod, so we head to his car.

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