It's Family Business

Chapter 12: I get kidnapped and depressed, but I also get to eat chocolate

Chapter 12|I get kidnapped and depressed, but I also get to eat chocolate

***

"What the f..." I muttered as I gradually opened my eyes.

I felt nauseous as hell. Like someone stuffed a dozen bottles of drugs down my throat, choked me with sparkling water and then threw a lighter down there.

I had torture down to a T.

Slowly I felt my limbs move, but then they didn't. I pulled on them only to realise I was tied up. "I am so not doing this BDSM shit," I tugged harder than I've tugged in my entire life.

Holy crap! I really needed start exercising. This whole being tied up shit was really hard, I was starting to get plastic tag burn. Yeah, can you believe it, the person (most probably Double P) who kidnapped me used stupid little tags to tie me up.

For a first time kidnapee, I was sensing a little less effort from the kidnapper - which was kind of insulting.

Oh and one more thing, I had no fucking clue where I was! Thus I yelled "Hey! Get me out of here!" The panic creeping in like my neighbours cat. I missed Henry, he was a good cat. "I'm going to call the police in five seconds if you don't get me out of here!"

Oh yeah, go me! I didn't have my phone. It was still in my coat pocket in the restaurant where I almost died.

Catching sight of the time displayed on the small screen in front of me I breathed out a sigh of relief. Sure it was close to three in the morning, but at least it wasn't the afternoon somewhere in Casablanca. But I really wouldn't mind if we were in Casablanca. It would be one heck of a road trip.

Did I forget to mention that I've been kidnapped? No, no I didn't. I love telling you about my life, it's like twenty four hour therapy. Although, I'm pretty sure my lax behaviour is the consequence of watching too many action movies and how they make dangerous situations look cool.

On the other hand, I'm 100% sure my mind's taking me through the five stages of grief and I was a tad bit drugged up to do anything about it.

Stage one: Denial.

Unfortunately, I did not have the liberty to move anywhere at this current moment in time. Nor did I seem to be panicking as much. The 'I'll threaten you by calling the police' thing was a long shot. Mostly because I didn't have my phone on me. The kidnapper (Double P) was most probably laughing at me behind my back.

Nonetheless I tried to do something.

My body just seems incapable of stimulating any survival instincts, it's got the fight response of a Dell processor. It appears, chilling here in the back of the fancy Bentley (which has a partition) was going to be the highlight of my life. Up to this point, I decided I was going to lay here numb and be very much impressed with the interior of this gorgeous car until stage two comes bibbity bobbity hopping along.

Aah, Stage two, my least favourite: Anger.

Building up my stress and resentment until I thought I was going to explode in a rage of heat, or spontaneously combust, I preoccupied myself by untying the stupid tag ties around my hands and feet. Double P or anyone else for that matter, had done a pretty good job with the plastics pieces of doom. But I was one step ahead of the game - okay, WikiHow was one step ahead of the game.

   Remembering that one method I googled at two in the morning on how to untie myself from a number of things, I was pleasantly surprised when it worked as I whacked my tied wrists against my hip at like 50 mph and the tag snapped. Go WikiHow! I was so going to rate the method five stars. Super useful.