Kidnapped by a Psychopath | {18+}

Kidnapped by a Psychopath- Chapter 1

Edited.
AMBER RAIN:

"Everything I loved suddenly became everything I lost."

The strobe lights danced across my face in a delicate but riveting way. The mix of the bright oranges, raunchy blues, and seductive reds gave me the buzz that alcohol hadn't yet. I moved under the lights professionally to the DJ's selection along with the other tightly compacted, sweaty bodies. I closed my eyes, breathing in my last night of fun before the studies and workload began piling up in my second year at Ivy League University, Harvard.

I know what you're thinking: Why would a girl get wasted and risk blowing her chance at an Ivy league university? The answer: That school drives me absolutely insane. I can't stand being around the buzzkills that only could get themselves off by reading a novel about micro nuclear power. No offense to them, for each's own. I just want to live while I'm young and get the most out of my youth.

I knew I had the brains for a school like Harvard, that lifestyle just wasn't working for me. I wasn't even sure how I made it in without being put on the waiting list or some kind of complication. My SAT/ACT scores were average and I had the bare minimum service hours but there were exceptional students out there who weren't accepted. My dad practically shoved me out the door when I got my acceptance letter without so much as an 'Congrats!' to give.

The first year had been agonizingly dreadful. I would always get my work done and make sure that all my projects and reports were typed up and ready to turn it. Nothing ever happened after the assignments. I would receive the grade, go back to my dorm, and repeat. You would think that someone would throw a party. Just one party would've been nice to attend. Nope. Not even a casual get together. I didn't have many friends; I usually kept to myself.

I had to drive twenty miles out of Cambridge to find the nearest club just to get a tiny pinch of fun and freedom. So far, it was worth it. No one would be here to be able to look down on me or chastise me for the decisions I make. I could drink, I could dance, and I could let the fuck go.

The whole night, so far, it seemed that eyes were trained on me. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was analyzing every detail of my being. I pushed the feeling back with the belief that everyone felt like that when dancing in a crowded club. All the females were practically on display and in all honestly, we had enough confidence to do this. Let them watch us they please. Just don't touch.

I ignored the lingering feeling and let the music guide my hips exotically. A few times -when some men grabbed my hips to dance- I considered a one night stand to release my stress but always decided against it when I realized the regret and trashy I feelings I would gain after doing it with a creep.

After a few hours of countless drinks and numerous songs I was feeling weightless and carefree. Exactly my goal.

When I realized it was about time to get back to my apartment and try to sleep off the painful headache coming my way, I regretted bringing my car with no designated driver.

I shouldn't have came alone.

I groaned out loud thinking how I had to call an Uber tonight and tomorrow to get home and to retrieve my car. Maybe I should've thought this out further. . .

I made my way off the dance floor, taking a breath of fresh air when the humidity that the crowd gave off went away. I pulled my mid-thigh length dress down as I passed by greedy looking men who shamelessly checked me out. When I glared at their wondering eyes, some just smirked, some turned their heads, and many just covered it up by pulling a beer to their lips.