I could feel the connection of my fist with his face. It hurt but I had to do it. He groaned and stumbled back as I hopped out of the trunk, registering my surroundings.
We were under an overpass, the cars and trucks whooshing past. I started running towards a small hill, already out of breath.
Normally in scary movies, when someone is running from a killer, they fall. All the movie watchers get angry because it's not possible for that bullshit to happen.
But when adrenaline gets the best of you, you can lose your footing. And that's what happened.
I fell. I was so close and I fell right on my face.
The burn of my scalp signaled to me that my hair was being yanked. I screeched as he pulled me farther and farther away from freedom. Away from something that could have been.
Memories of my sweet mom with her wavy blonde hair and petite frame flashed through my mind. Even my dad raced through.
I had my little sister, Tracy but Briella was also like a sister to me. I didn't want to lose her. Or my room or my home.
This scared the living hell out of me.
I was just praying that the police traced my call and would soon be here, armed and ready for anything. But in many abduction cases that I read and saw on TV, the victim didn't make it. She usually ended up somewhere inside of a trash bag, under a bridge.
I tried fighting back with all of my might. I did. But he was so strong and the harder I fought, the tighter he gripped my hair in his huge hands.
"Let go of me, bastard!!" I screamed. He twirled me around to face him, the smell of cheap cologne washing over me. I took in all of his features. He looked like a businessman but looked a little familiar. I couldn't place him.
His fist reeled back and came flying towards my face, colliding with it just like how mine did with his. The feeling of dread and pain hit all at once.
The pain wasn't much when he first hit me but then it came, it hurt like a bitch. I could feel the warm prickle of blood run from my nose.
I groaned, my body falling limp in his grasp. "Good girl." He muttered.
He dragged me back towards the car and lifted me into the trunk again. I was too restless, too tired to fight back. And plus, I was out of breath from running.
Closing the trunk, darkness covered me once again. I couldn't lose hope. Someone would find me. I knew it.
My phone rang as he was driving. I struggled to answer it. I could feel a huge welt rising on my face.
"H-Hello?"
"Honey, we tried contacting you again. We tracked the call. What's your name?"
"Sienna Olsen. I live on Hankton Avenue." I wanted to give her all of my information. Except, I didn't know my mom's number. Or anyone's number...
I never bothered to memorize it since I had a phone. But here my phone was, on three percent.
"We're gonna find you."
I began to cry. Who was I kidding? I was no different from any other girl who was ever kidnapped. I was gonna get molested and killed, not ever being remembered.
"No you're n-not," I wailed. Everything was not going right. "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die."
"Sienna...you're not. Because I'm gonna help find you. I promise...What's your favorite color?"
"What?" I asked. Why was she asking me such a question?
"What's your favorite color? Mine is blue. Royal blue."
"Mine is-is red. I like red." I sniffed. This was not helping.
"Red is pretty too. Sienna the Red Queen."
"Red means blood..." I whispered.
"No–"
And my phone turned off. It was dead.
