Written in Anger

~ 10

Chapter 10 |

Kyela's pov

I was just living the American dream, wasn't I? I had been kidnapped, spent two weeks with my kidnapper's family feeling threatened at all times of the day, got my heart broken by the guy that I thought could have been the one, and now I had been kidnapped again. It was nice.

"Oh, shut up," the man said.

I had been crying for two hours now, and it was slowly turning into a soft wail since I had run out of tears shortly after he drove away from the house.

I was sitting in a metal chair that I had been tied to so that I couldn't go anywhere, as if I knew where to go, and multiple men had come through this cold room to watch me. They would study me, looking over my body head to toe, making me feel violated. I felt like they were undressing me with their eyes, and everything was more than uncomfortable.

I had never wanted Michael so much in my life, then again, this could be some type of plan to get me killed so that I wouldn't be around anymore to make him feel guilty. It was sad that I thought of him that way, but he deserved it, and I have no other way to think of him since he did hurt me the way he did. It kills me to think about what he told me that day, and how sick I felt afterwards. I don't think anyone would ever know how much that hurt me, not just because I've been emotionally unstable, but because it came from someone that I thought could've cared about how I felt if they knew how I felt.

This one man had been staring at me for an hour, and he looked older, old enough to be my father. I wondered why he would want kidnap me from Michael's house and why he took me from the bedroom so late at night. Now that I think about it, I don't think that Michael had as much to do with it as I believed at first, but he probably knows why.

"How old are you?" he asks me. His voice was low and raspy, something like when you first wake up from a deep sleep, but it wasn't nearly as soothing.

"T-twenty four," I stutter.

"Why are you scared?"

"Scared? I-I-I'm not scared," I lie to him. I'm very scared, and I'm sure he can see right through my lie, but I give it a shot anyway. He stares at me intently as I tremble in my place on the chair.

"You don't have to lie, you know? I know when you're scared," he says with a grim smile.

I don't say another word when he stands to his feet and walks over to me, placing his rough, callused hand onto my shoulder. My eyes follow his hand down to my arm cautiously, hoping that he doesn't try to hurt me.

"There's no need to be scared, dear," he whispers.

Feeling his breath down my neck gives me the chills and goosebumps visibly raise on my skin. He made me feel disgusting. He looked quite familiar too, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I was trying to figure out where I could have known him from. It was scary to know that I was probably under his watch while Michael had been watching me too. That's probably why he knew where I was tonight.

"What do you think you're here for?" he asked me.

"I don't know. Why am I here?" I asked.

He slapped me, and the force of the hit had my face stinging. I wasn't ready to be slapped, and I don't think I had ever been slapped before, so I immediately burst into tears.

"You're not asking the questions here! I am!" he screamed into my ear as more tears spilled from my eyes. I tried to muffle my whimper, but the pain was unbearable, so I couldn't hold it in. I felt weak.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him with his hand. I sucked in a sharp breath as my head started to pound, and a wide grin spread across his wrinkly face. The pain was really starting to get to me, and I knew he was enjoying it.

"Listen, and you better listen good," he started, his voice was low and threatening, "You don't me, but I know you, so don't try to pull anything over on me because I will beat you at your own game."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say. Next thing I know, the palm of his hand connects with my face once more, and I can taste a drop of blood on my tongue.

"I didn't ask you a question, therefore you don't speak."

With that, he leaves the room, leaving me with tear stained cheeks and silence.

↭

I wake up to a bright light shining in my face that begins to hurt my eyes. I try to shield them, but I soon remember that I'm tied to a chair. Once my eyes adjust, I begin to think that I've died and gone to heaven. It's quiet and peaceful that feel like God finally decided to give me my break.

Not until I see the grass on the other side of the window do I realize that I've only been moved to some other room. The window is huge, which covers the entire room, allowing the sunlight to cover the whole room.

I feel empty, and I feel like I'm going insane because I can find the entertainment of counting blades of grass from the inside of wherever I am. Nobody seems to be with me. I'm alone. For once. I need to eat immediately because I feel so empty. It's slowly killing me. I know that I'm mentally unstable when I begin to scream. I start screaming at the top of my lungs, and I have no control over my body or mind that I just continue to scream.

"Come and get me now! I know you want to! I don't even deserve to live!" I scream until my voice gives out, and I am in a fit of muffled sobs. I sound crazy, but I don't even care anymore. I may be crazy, and somebody should realize that. I'm living in Hell on earth.

"What the hell?" I can hear the man's voice behind me. His footsteps become closer and louder, but I feel like they're only inside my head.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I scream. I feel his hand wrap around my throat, and I feel my breathing stop. I struggle to get my hands free while making various sounds to get him to let me go because I'm suffocating. I'm sure he knows.

"Shut the hell up!" Joe screams.

"Joe, what's going on?" I hear some man say just as my vision goes black.

Michael's pov

"What are you going to do?" Janet asks.

"We've gone over this plenty of times," I say, my voice lower than I expected.

"You never told us what you were going to do, Michael," she says with an attitude.

"What I'm going to do isn't important! Just get all of his men off guard, and I'll handle the rest! Got it?" I yell.

"Yes," she mumbles.

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-mickeythemoonwalker