Twenty one: Crap on a cracker

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Short chapter sorry dont hate me :(

When I woke up that same morning Dylan wasn’t in our bed which didn’t bother me the least because she hogged all of the covers, leaving me freezing.

What did bother me was that I couldn’t smell breakfast being made like it had been every morning since I had arrived here.

In fact, I couldn’t hear anything either.

Well no, I could hear but there was nothing to listen to.

I couldn’t hear any one talking; I couldn’t hear the X-box or even the boys arguing. Which was weird.

I jumped out of bed, wrapping the blanket around myself, just as I had done the night I was kidnapped.

I pressed my face against the door, listening for any signs of life outside of the room.

Jesus Arabella this isn’t an alien documentary.

Shut up.

Would you stop talking to yourself, God woman get a grip.

 I quickly placed my hand on the door handle and turned it.

Well, tried to turn it. The bloody thing was jammed.

THEY LOCKED ME IN?

They had actually locked me in the room?

Well, it could be worse…they could have locked me in the basement where I’d have to eat bugs and sleep on a cold tiled floor and the only bit of light I’d be able to see would be from a little slit in the wall from where the last prisoner had clawed it with their bare hands and I’d have to count the days by sunrise, marking how many days I’d been in there with a twig that I would have had to sharpen with my teeth.

Well, if they had a basement that was.

I took a few steps away from the door, checking to see how big it was.

Memories from the first time I tried to use my powers flooded my brain; I smirked to myself as I imagined just what I wanted to happen.

Bibbidi Bobbidi boo bitch.” I said as the door flew off of its hinges- all because of the wind.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” I head someone scream downstairs and then footsteps coming towards me.

Oops maybe I wasn’t home alone.

Kyle came running up the stairs, a X-box remote in his hand and a scowl plastered on his face.

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