Okay. Breathe. Think. I'm in a room, tied to a pole, and I'm being threatened by an unknown bad guy. How do I escape?
There's no way! I can't undo the ties around my wrists. They're too tight. Fuck. The pole goes all the way to the ceiling, so I can't do that thing where I move myself up the pole and off the end. Pfft! I wouldn't be strong enough for that anyway. It was in a movie; probably wouldn't work in real life. Also, there's still the bad guy behind me. He may never leave.
Keep breathing.
He has to leave.
Still stuck in here. Still tied to a pole. The only option left is negotiating. That won't work. What do I have to offer? Money? I have $300 to my name unless my car payment has gone through, then it's like $100. Sex? Servitude? I would rather die. I won't beg.
Keep breathing.
I could feel him behind me. Waiting. My mind raced a mile a minute, but I remained silent. There was no hope, and I just wanted to know why. I didn't seem to be some random... catch. He knew my name. He must have done some research; at the very least, look through my wallet when he took me from my apartment, if he was one of those two men. I took a deep, steady breathe.
It had been a normal Friday night before I was taken. I had spent all day after my classes at the hardware store getting the remaining supplies I needed to paint my room. Finally, I had convinced my landlord to let me paint a mural on one of my bedroom walls. The first time I asked him, he thought I was insane.
"You can't do that in an apartment," was Micheal's go-to response the first twenty times I brought it up. Finally, my fancy going-to-be-a-lawyer-some-day best friend wrote up an agreement for the two of us to sign and present to Micheal. The "legal" document swore we would re-paint the entire apartment to perfection for free at the end of my stay.
He had finally relented. I hugged Ryan so much that day for making it happen with his magic lawyer skills. I had always wanted to paint a mural in my room; to have something make it seem bigger and more interesting than it was, like a forest with bright flowers and animals peeking out from behind bushes or trees. Maybe a glimpse of fairy wings would hide in there somewhere. I wanted to make my little spot in the world hold some kind of wonderment. I had begged to do that since I was 13, but my parents rented the house; they couldn't do too much to the walls. I also figured they questioned my talent, but I was 13, so... fair.
I was finally going to paint my mural; now I never would.
"Tell Ophelia that I need confirmation," he ordered behind me...a little to my right. There's a door! Duh. Of course there's a door. I had to get in here somehow.
Seconds ticked by, and we both waited. He was patient. I had nothing to do besides take deep slow breathes. Knowing I couldn't see over my shoulders, I kept my face ahead and tried to take in as much as I could with my other senses. I had only been awake for a few minutes before he went to the door. I'm assuming there is someone guarding my prison.
This time, I heard a faint squeak as the door opened again. There was someone else in the room now. I could feel the cold energy coming toward me. A chill ran up my back forcing me to involuntarily stiffen. Suddenly ice fingers grabbed each side of my head and yanked me back against the pole. They held me there as cold seeped into my skin. I shivered enough to make my teeth chatter, which surprised me. Goosebumps rose in my arms and legs. The room was at a comfortable temperature; it was the ice fingers alone that froze me. After what seemed an eternity, the fingers released me and my head fell forward with exhaustion.
"She's the one that will destroy him, Alpha," rasped an elderly woman's voice.
Alpha? That's a stupid name. Poor kid. No wonder he grew up with issues.
"Perfect! We'll start tomorrow! Get the word out." His vile voice echoed around the brick room and I couldn't help but flinch. He noticed.
"Don't worry, Kenna. I'm the least of your troubles."
Fuck. Deep breaths.
**********
He left the room, and I stood there in my silent misery thinking of every movie that involved a kid-napping. Nothing helped, though. All had surroundings to help them escape. Everyday objects that, if the victim was clever, could be used to open a door or vent, make a weapon, or signal for help. I had nothing. I had a rope wound tightly around my wrists, my oversized shirt, sports-bra, jean shorts, my little black sandals, and... that's it; there was nothing useful with my clothing or in my pockets. I tried again to pull at the restraints, but they wouldn't give. I couldn't slip through; they just dug into my skin the more I moved.
It started to sink in; I was going to die. Painfully, as he said. I thought back to good memories. My parents and my sister, Brie. The house we had in Colorado before me moved here to Michigan. The nights spent awake on the roof talking to Brie as we looked at the stars. We would spend half the time talking about where I got my auburn hair and green eyes. My sister and parents all had black hair and hazel eyes. My mom swore I wasn't adopted; she'd say it was just unique recessive genes. That memory made me smile. I hadn't been worried about it at the time. I loved my life. Though, now I wondered; maybe I was adopted, and my bio parents are spies or crime lords, and I'm going to die as some revenge plot against them.
My exasperated laugh echoed around me as I realized the ridiculousness of those thoughts.
I couldn't fathom why someone would want to kill me. Wait! I'm here to destroy someone else! Wait. I'm not exactly... strong... or supplied with weapons... How does one destroy someone while tied to a pole?
STAI LEGGENDO
Moonshine
Fantasy"My drenched hair hit my face like tiny whips as I ran. The wind and rain were unrelenting, my chest was starting to ache, but I had to keep running. The fear that grew in my gut told me so. I couldn't see in the dark, but I knew I had to keep movin...
