Kidnapped

Chapter 10

Five's pov

Days. It has been days since I last saw y/n. I was surprised to find myself worrying every day even more than the day before. I personally thought that that wasn't possible. I proved myself wrong every day again and again. I searched everywhere. Even in the most unlikely places such as her school. I never even saw a glimpse of her.

What if something happend to her? I'd loathe myself forever. I'd never stop. I'd be crushed.

My feet drag me over the sidewalk. I pass people, but I don't pay any attention to them after I see that they aren't y/n. They're different. No one is even close to looking like y/n. Many glances fall on me. I must look horrible, but I don't really care. I can't even think of the last night I slept well. All my thoughts are blurry and hard to understand. My body is drained. I am absolutely a mess.

But I can't give up on her. I won't give up on her. I will do whatever I can to find her, just like I've been doing this week.

My overworked body forces itself to continue. My legs work, everything works, but my heart does not. When I came to the conclusion that y/n meant more to me than just being part of my mission, I felt whole. I felt happy. And I was going to tell her, but I did not succeed in doing so. My fault, of course. I should've had the guts. Now, ever since y/n left, I felt a hole inside of me. With every action the hole stung. It hurt, and the pain didn't lessen. The opposite, with every time I though of y/n-which was a lot-the stinging pain grew.

At this point it doesn't stop stinging. It keeps hurting. I wish I could say that I got used to it, but I'd lie. It hurts, and every time I feel it, it feels like it's a new pain. But it's the same. It only hurts even more every time that I think of y/n being away.

Buildings pass me. Cars flash by, but I have no clue where I'm going. I'm just walking. I already went everywhere where I though she could be. But she's nowhere. So now I'm just walking through villages, forcing my body to continue.

My eyes never stay long on something. They always flicker to the next car or person after just a few seconds. Because what is it to me if it doesn't have y/n's eyes? What is it to me if it doesn't have her voice? Nothing.

"Argh!" A scream shakes me out of my thoughts. My head isn't blurry anymore, instead I'm focusing on the direction where the sound came from. It wasn't y/n's voice, obviously. But I'm still curious.

That curiosity takes over, and I take off. I start running, happy to finally have a distraction. My feet carry me, and this time I'm going quicker than I though possible with my fatigued body. Wind flies through my messy hair, and for the first time in days the corners of my lips curl up a little. The speed makes me forget my worries. The goal of looking for the owner of the voice makes me feel free after being locked up in a cage made my confusion and worries.

When I turn around the corner, my eyes fall on a store. It isn't a big one, but there do stand several cars and trucks. I can't see anyone just yet, so I continue running in order to find some faces.

I find them, and when I do, I realize that the situation is worse than I would've thought. There's a boy laying on the ground. He can't be more than four years younger than y/n. His legs are spread across the parking lot, and I note that he's very tall. His black curls are laying across his sweaty forehead. But his heavy sweating isn't what makes my lips part. There's a hole in the back of his head. Even though I can't see it well, I can tell that it's very serious by the blood gushing out of the wound.

The boy's eyes flutter open when other boys-his friends, I think-try to put pressure on the wound. They scream at another person, a young man. This one is trying to get the ambulance to come. He's practically screaming the address in the speaker of his phone. His hands are shaking, and I'm surprised that the device hasn't fallen on the ground yet.