Kidnapped

10

It's been six weeks since we were taken.

Most of the girls were returned to their families- for a price, of course. Despite the numerous girls who went straight to the police with profiles of the gang and our whereabouts, we still have had no luck with the police. About a third of the girls who had been kidnapped were left, and surprisingly, so was Tiffany. She refuses to talk to any of us, only obediently follows the schedule in hopes of being let go. I can't fathom how she feels, he father is very wealthy and still hasn't bought her back. A small part of me, the part that I hate, is satisfied. After years of bullying, this is what she deserves. The larger part of me just wants her to be safe.

For weeks we have been following the same routine: breakfast, room, lunch, room, dinner, "community time" (where we are all forced together under supervision to prevent us from going insane), room, and sleep. If we need to use the bathroom, we go either after a meal or bang on our door until someone comes to escort us down the hall.

At least the food has gotten better. A few of the girls who know how to cook, including me, rotate and take shifts teaching some of the other girls to make easy dishes that will satisfy everyone. Occasionally, a beefy male will make his way into the kitchen and assist us, but normally their too busy with their mysterious work to help. We were doing the same thing over and over again. The news, which we were aloud to watch once a week, was reporting less and less on us. Girls began to give up hope. Silently, we all agreed; if something doesn't change soon, we were all going to be dead one way or another.

That's probably why the announcement at dinner made two girls pass out face first into their mashed potatoes.

"What do you mean, training?" a brave girl with quickly fading, green hair speaks up.

Miguel Adams cleared his throat, "Seeing as none of you will be going home anytime soon, you are to start physical training. If you pass initiation, you will be apart of the Vipers. If not..." He trailed off. Some girls looked sick. Others looked as if this information barely phased them. One of the girls who had just lifted her head from her potatoes slumped onto the man next to her, who then proceeded to shove her off and onto the floor. I don't blame her. We all know what the "if not" is leading too.

"When?" I ask, keeping my face blank.

Miguel ignores me, and the man next to him answers, "Tomorrow."

I nod and sit back, acting as if this information doesn't bother me. In truth, it bothers me a lot. I made a promise to protect these girls. Yes, it wasn't something I really wanted to agree with, and yes, the girl who had gone home to her family would never know. Still, it wasn't something I was going to disrespect. But I can't protect the girls if they don't pass initiation, and that will be on me.

"The training will start with physical, and once you have earned our trust you will be given a gun-" I begin to grow excited at the prospect of something that could aid in escape, but my excitement ceased as he continued, "Not a real one, just an airsoft until you have been officially initiated. We will work on combat, interrogation skills, and overall knowledge." I wonder what that last one could mean.

Heavy silenced hung over the room like a wet blanket before Adams huffed, "Dismissed." We all methodically stood and carried our plates into the kitchen then began to clean up after dinner. A few months ago, I barely ate dinner. Now I'm cleaning up after the Vipers meals. In all honestly, I'm not sure what to think of that.

As soon as everything was cleaned up, we were ushered into a large room where we were to have our regulated community time. Immediately, we all formed a tight group and began to discuss what had been announced.

"There's no way I can-"

"I can't believe this."

"-too weak!"