Kidnapping Me

Living Hell

I felt sick. Utterly repulsed and horrible. The blood was caked under my nails and had dried in streaks up my arms. My hair was messy, like a birds nest on my head, and my feet were blistered and sore. Apparently, locking me in the cell and turning up the heat was Alexander's idea of pre-show entertainment. I was sweating like I'd never sweated before. The cuts on my arms stung like mad as the salty-liquid travelled down my body.

I grunted and pulled myself off the ground. This cell was different to the first one I had been in. It wasn't as dark for a start, and I could easily make out the opposite wall and the contours of the ground as it dipped and rose. My hands were disgusting. As another form of 'entertainment' the floor was tiled and covered in hot water, excpet for this little bit which I had been sitting on. My hands were cut up fromn grasping the wall as i tried not to fall flat on my face.

This Alexander guy was ingenious. Really, he should win a prize for this. Because despite the pain in my hands and my legs from falling all the time, the hot water burning the bottom of my feet and the fact that the room was like a sauna, it had been two days since I had seen the sun or taken a deep breath of some pure oxygen. Being held captive like this does something to you. 

I couldn't wait to roll in the grass and smell the fresh rain. I miss my Father, surprisingly. I miss Penny and I miss Gloria. My heart feels heavy and I know it's not just from missing them. I miss Greyson. I miss Benny and I miss Amon.

They, in the short time I spent with them, were some of the best friends I'd ever had. Some of the only people who could sit back and nod while I told them something, knowing they would understand totally.

Even in this semi-darkness, I'm not sure where the door is. It's blending into the surroundings really well and I have no idea where it is. But I think it's across the boiling water that I remember walking around in painfully for ages before finding this dry spot. Who knows.

"Gracie! You hungry yet?" Marco. Of course. He's having fun with this. I know it.

I can't see him, but I can hear him. His voice sounds weirdly electronic, and I have a feeling it's coming from a speaker somewhere. My ears prick and I turn my head from side to side, trying to catch where the voice is coming from. My stomach growls and I gag, although there is nothing to throw up. I haven't eaten in days. 

"Little bird," Marco laughs. "Traped in her cage."

"Bastard!" I scream loudly. When there isn't a reply, it doesn't take me long to realise this place I'm in is wired with speakers, not Mircophones. So I am a mute. Marco can't hear me. He can only see me.

"Do you want to fly away little bird?" Marco cackles.

My head whips around, sending a deep pain shooting down my shoulder. I hiss and stumble forwards. My feet hit the hot water and I fall backwards as my feet slip on the tiles. I fling my arms out and grasp the walls, but I'm too far gone to save myself. My nails bend and snaps and I land painfully on my elbow and hip in the hot water.

It burns my skin and I shreik in pain, trying to scramble backwards into the dry spot. Marco laughs from above me. "I can see why Alexander finds this amuseing. That was quiet a show little bird." I hear him click his tongue. "But it's time to be fed, don't you think? Can't have you dying now can we?"

There is the grinding of gears and a thin ray of piercing white light dances across the wall from a spot opposite me. The door swings open and a skeleton like boy, not a day over thirteen, shuffles in, his eyes darting across the room as his eyes adjust. I watch as the water drains off the tiles, receeding into small pipes at either end of the room. Without heasitating a second, as the smell of bread hits me, I pull myself up and sprinit across the room.The boy's eyes widen and he stand there shocked as I come hurtling towards him. 

Instead of diving for the food, like he is expecting me too, I skid past him on my blistered feet and out into the hallway. I feel a weight rise off my shoulders as I race through the bright tunnels. As I turn another corner, my relife and happiness is throughly stepped on. 

Alexander taps his cane to the floor and smiles. "Gosh. Don't you look horrible, darlin'!" He jeers. His beedy eyes dart over my body. "Look like you've been to hell and back." He gestures sideways and I glance.

The wall is lined with mirrors that I've only just noticed. I look like I have been to hell, except I know I haven't even left yet. 

The skeleton boy returns three days later with anaother plate of fresh-ish bread. This time there are two huge goon's stadning behind him, leaning against the wal across the hall from the door. There is no escape and after Alexander gave them the all clear to do what they like with me if I try and escape, I'm scared to move too fast.

The boy walks forwards once the hot water is drained and gets to be about a meter away from me before he stops, frozen on the spot. He takes a deep breath and then lowers the tray slowly, like he's trying not to spook me. Like I'm a wild animal.

"Listen," He croaks as fast as he can, his features never wavering as he slowly lowers the tray. He's trying to make it look like he's scared shitless. "There is a way to escape." He hisses.

I blink at him and he rolls his eyes. "If you want to get out of here...." He takes a deep  breath as the tray finally hits the floor. "I've got a mesage for you." He whispers, backing away a tiny bit, his hands out in front of him. "Greyson's here." he says and whips around, running back into the hallway. 

I lean forward, my brain only just processing the boys words. "Greyson."