Adopted by Phan

Chapter 58

Jay's P.O.V.

My breathing was unusually slow, I could feel the rise and fall of my chest and nothing else. I felt like I was floating, my senses were all shut off and I was at peace. It didn't last long.

I felt my body jerked and I was ripped from my peaceful state, suddenly feeling everything. My hands were tied behind me with some sort of fabric, I guessed a tie and it was rubbing the skin around it raw, I could already feel open wounds. I was in the air, my body slumped over someone else and I could them walking, the steady boom, boom, boom, of their footsteps.

Ever so slowly I squinted my eyes and opened them, looking around at my surroundings. It was cold, I was outdoors somewhere and the winds was blowing at my legs, were apparently at the front. My head was slung over someone's back, I could see their back rising and falling with each step, every time my face landing in the fabric of their coat.

I wasn't scared, just a little confused and a bit drowsy, my eyes still opening and closing with every second passed. The path underneath the persons feet turned to gravel, their footsteps crunching with the stones underfoot and from there it turned into dirt and dried leaves, tree roots strewn across the ground.

There was a sharp rap on wood, a knock and then the creaking of a door, more footsteps from someone else. I left my head limp, not wanting to alert the people that I was conscious and tried not to panic, biting my lip.

There were more footsteps and suddenly I was going down another set of stairs into a dark, concrete room. I squeezed my eyes shut as I was laid down on the floor and tried to not move, feeling a hand run over my shoulder and their breathing becoming steadily faster.

"Finally, I've got you back."

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I retched, coughing and spluttering. The room was filled with smoke or some sort of gas and I couldn't breathe, crawling towards where I knew the door was in desperation. My eyes were watering and my throat was being torn apart, burning everytime I tried to take in the remaining air in the room.

I collapsed on my face, barely enough strength to twitch my fingers anymore. I couldn't hold my eyes open and as I lay there, breathing in more smoke, I crossed my fingers in the hope that someone would notice that I was gone, and would try and find me.

I heard a door open behind me and then the air started to clear, hearing coughing.

"Bloody hell! How much of that shit did you use?!" More coughing and then I was picked up again, my face turned to the sky so whoever was holding me could see my face.

"She's out." There was a sigh.

"Leave her there, Javen wants her locked up." I was placed on the ground again and my head tilted back, slowly breathing in the fresh air.

"I don't know why he wants us to do this, seriously she's just got her life back together and now he wants her back. He should still be in jail." There was a sigh.

"Do you actually care?! We're getting paid, why would you give a shit about the kid?" The footsteps of the second man neared my head and he bent down, running his hand through my hair carefully, but I almost shivered. His mouth neared my ear and whispered,

"Maybe your dad 'ill give me a go after he's had his fair share. I want more than money for this to go through." I almost screamed, I knew exactly what he was talking about and I didn't want to go through that again.

The two sets of footsteps left and the door slammed, so I opened my eyes. I was shivering, trying to wrap my arms around myself and not throw up. I was nasueous, dizzy and barely able to keep my eyes open not that I would be able to see anything anyway because the room was completely dark, no light coming in from anywhere.

It was disorientating, I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face and it was a little strange and more than scary. I couldn't tell if that meant it was night time, surely it couldn't be that late?

I thought back to that morning, when Anais had met me outside the front gate so we could walk into school together.

She was excited because her family was going on holiday to America over Christmas, her parents had just told her the night before at dinner.

As the bell rung she started to run, her class was on the other side of the school and her teacher wasn't exactly kind to students who were running late. I was still a little way from the learning support rooms and I knew Mrs Livingstone wouldn't mind if I was a but late, so I took my time, wandering in-between a few different classrooms as the students faded out.

Just as I rounded the corner to my own classroom I hand yanked me back against the wall. I opened my mouth to scream and tried to yank myself away but the hand covered it with a cloth, which tasted bitter and not something I wanted to breathe in. I immediately started breathing through my nose, but it was pinched and I started to cough.

It took barely a minute before my vision started to fade and I couldn't struggled any longer, falling straight into the arms of whoever was holding me. I heard voices.

"That didn't take long, normally it takes like 5 minute doesn't it?"

"Yeah well she's tiny. Better move, don't wanna get caught on the job do you?" My brain was fading in and out of concentration and as I was hauled up, the cloth still over my mouth, I passed out.

As I thought back I realised that the people who had kidnapped me were the same ones who had bought me down into what I thought was a basement. There obviously weren't many people helping out, possibly just those two and- I shuddered- my dad.

I was unusually calm for the situation I was in, I just knew that going off my head probably wasn't the best option and wouldn't really help me out. I felt my way around the walls, my fingers trailing the concrete for something, anything. Nothing.

I slumped down on the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees, looking up at the ceiling as the tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to go home.

Home. I place where I was loved, where I could go to bed each night and feel safe, a place where I knew I didn't have to fight for the scraps of food that might not even exist.

A place where I could go to someone when I was feeling sad and not have to feel guilty about not pulling my weight. A place that wasn't with my real family.

A place with them.

Smiling at the ceiling, I clung to that hope. I didn't have anything with me, my knife was somewhere in my bedroom and although I regretted not bringing it with me, I thought I was safe enough to not need it anymore.

Home.