I wake up staring at a gray ceiling. I look around me. I'm on a bed and there's a side table beside me. That's it. There's a small window and a door.
I get up and open the door. It's not locked. Hmm. Weird. I walk out and explore the place. I walk down the hallway to the left.
"What are you doing out of bed missy?" A voice says. I stop. "Turn around." He commands. I turn around. The guy's probably in his early twenties. Tall and buff. Blond with blue eyes. "Get back in there." He says. I cross my arms. "What if I don't?" I say challenging. "You really are stubborn. Someone gets hurt if you don't. And it won't be me." He says silently yet seriously.
I sigh and get inside. I can't escape anyway. I have no weapons. I'm not fast either. And I most definitely don't know how to fight. I sit down and he closes the door behind him.
"We need to do some, experiments." He says slowly. "What experiments? Like something that happened to Captain America or something like a science experiment?" I say. "Very funny." He says without a smile. He turns off the lights. I sit still.
A video plays on a screen I didn't see before. My parents. My family. They're being shot. I scream. "What are you doing?" I yell as the lights go on. "What did you do to them?" I ask tears streaming down my face. He looks at me with sympathy. "That was just a fake. You're family's still alive." He says shutting the door.
Are they? Are they still alive? If they are, why did they show me that video? What kind of experiment was that? Maybe that's not even an experiment.
Oh, Lord. Please. Help.
YOU ARE READING
Prodigal Girl
Teen FictionMy parents love me. I love them. Sure. But there are so many restrictions. I have the life most people want. But everything cuts off when the rules come in. I complain about this a lot. And one day, I take matters into my own hands. I leave home and...
