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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2017144-Trapped
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #2017144
A girl gets kidnapped and she has no choice but to follow whatever they say.
Trapped

“Kick it right into the goal Katie!” my teammate, Abby, shouted, as I surged forward with the ball. All the defenders seemed to melt away in the grass when I dribbled and flicked the black and white ball across the field, edging closer to the goal. Playing soccer was the only time where I really felt alive, ever since that happened. As the final seconds of the game ticked by, I swung my left foot and gave it all I had. The ball went soaring into the net, and the whistle rang shrilly to mark the end! “Good. The time has almost come.” The raspy voice whispered in my ear. I sank down to the grass in relief. They were going to survive. I was okay so far. This was already my third mission, but some things were still at stake. I barely noticed the crowd and my teammates shout in joy as they sprinted down the field to hug me. I was covered in a tangled mess of bodies, and my heart sped up, knowing what would happen if any of them found out what I was hiding.
“Get off me, guys!” I shouted, trying to maintain a joking expression. They cleared out, and I could breathe again. We walked across the field back to the lockers, talking about the game. Inside, I shut the bathroom door behind me and sank into the wall. I was finally alone, and successful so far. I breathed a sigh of relief. None of them had noticed. None of them had seen the silver knife glinting against of the inside my shorts.


2 Months ago
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm rang, annoying the heck out of me as always. I groaned and put pulled my polka dot blanket over my ears, trying to block out the noise. Nope. Didn’t work. I gave up trying to ignore it and turned on my side to slap the thing, hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep. “Katie! Get up!” Mom hollered from downstairs. Good luck with that, Mom. I heard her grumble as she stormed up the stairs to wake me up. “You’re going to be late for your first day of school!” she warned me, pulling the curtains aside to let in a pool of sunlight.
“What?!” I gasped and sprang up. Maybe Mom did make me get up. But the first day of school! How could I forget? I jumped out my bed and ran to bathroom, trying to brush my teeth and take a shower at the same time. I did half of both, put on jeans and a gray t-shirt, and checked my reflection in the mirror. Yup. No change at all. I was the same old tall, skinny girl, with brown hair, brown eyes, freckles, and a birthmark shaped like a T on my ankle. That thing was there since the day I was born, and it stood out bright against my tan skin. I almost fell on my face by slipping on my socks, and sprinted downstairs. My backpack, ready to go, stood leaning against the door. I picked up a granola bar and an orange, swung my backpack over my shoulder, and headed outside. “Where do you think you’re going?” Mom loomed over me.
“Umm wherever you think I’m going” I said, gesturing to my backpack.
“Don’t try to act funny, young lady. I want you to sit down and eat something for once, and then you can go.”
“Fine, I muttered, knowing it would be useless to argue. Three helpings of toast, scrambled eggs, and orange juice later, I ran out the door so fast, my coach would be proud of me, and didn’t stop till I got to my school. Washington Junior High.

“Katie! Katie!” I shook myself out of my stupor and looked at my teacher’s wrinkled face.
“Yes, Mrs. Bennet?” I asked, trying to remain polite.
“That was the second time I asked you the question, Ms. Phillips!” she sighed, exasperated. “For the last time, what is the definition of deoxyribose?”
“Deoxy-what?” I said, and someone in the class snickered and my face turned a shade of beet. Shooting that person a sharp look, Mrs. Bennet spoke very slowly as if I was an idiot:
“De-oxy-ri-bose. Definition please”
“A type of gas?” I stammered, trying not to look up at my friend who was openly laughing at me. Another sigh.
“You know what? Let’s move on” My best friend, Nicole, nudged me and mouthed “Nice going.” I rolled my eyes at her and started doodling on the corner of my notebook. She definitely had changed even if I hadn’t. Up until 6th grade, she was normal looking and then BOOM. Flowing blond hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and perfect little dimples caught the attention of all the guys (and girls). She smirked, showing off her dimples, and glanced toward the clock. I looked at old wrinkly, who was still talking about scientific stuff and my eyes also darted to the clock about every five seconds. 5...4...3...2...1 Ring! Ring!
The most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard: the sound of freedom. Nicole and I slammed our textbooks shut and stood up. I swung my backpack over my shoulder, tried not to get stampeded by the other 30 people doing the same thing, and both of us ran out of the classroom. At least, Nicole ran out of the classroom. I tried to run, and then I tripped and landed butt first on the ground. I quickly got up, looked around at the people chortling at me, and tried to maintain a disdainful expression, which just set them off again. Nicole came back and helped me up while cracking up so hard she’s almost crying. “Of all the stupid things I’ve seen you do so far, that was probably the third best!!!”
“Shut up” I grumbled, laughing at her laugh and shoved her lightly. We walked out of the room this time and Nicole, still laughing her face off tells all our other friends what happened.
“How are you even good at soccer?” she joked, and I’ve actually wondered about that, too. But it’s not my fault. The chairs and tables are bullies, the floor doesn’t like me, and the walls get in the way all the time. I walked down the street talking with Nicole, well, actually, listening to her talk about the teachers (“Melvin smelled like my grandma’s dog. No, wait, worse. Like my grandma.”), some girls (“Okay so that idiot needs to cut down on her lipstick by, like, five layers”), and some guys, and more guys. As we rounded the corner to the street where the street of my house was, I felt something tickling my ear. “Stupid flies,” I muttered, whacking at what I thought was a fly, but instead, I felt something hard. I froze and slowly glanced back, expecting a busy street, but what I saw was a pair of eyes.
I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Within seconds, a hand clamped over my mouth, cutting even the smallest sound I was able to make. Before I even knew what was happening, the hand was on my shoulder, pulling me backwards with extraordinary strength and speed. I couldn’t utter a single word to get Nicole’s attention and I craned my neck to look at her. She was still talking, thinking that I was right behind her! If I wasn’t getting kidnapped or whatever, I would have done the biggest facepalm ever known to mankind, even though that would kind of hurt my face. The person dragging me took a sharp turn and without warning and I was shoved against a tree. Hard. Really hard. I was stunned for a moment, because of the pain, and then sank down to the dirt, trying to regain my breath. In the few moments after that happened, my hands were tied back around the trunk of the tree so tight I was sure they would have marks from the rope or string that was binding it. I started breathing normally, relieved that maybe the person had left. Then, the kidnapper stepped in front of me, into my view.
He was wearing a leather jacket on top of a dark gray shirt, black jeans, boots that looked like some sort of scaly reptile’s hide, and from what I could tell, had the most muscular arms I’ve ever seen. When my eyes got up to his face, I let out a gasp. There was no other way to put it. He was gorgeous. Dark green eyes, sandy brown hair swept back, and high cheekbones. Honestly, he could have made any girl melt. He and Nicole would have been perfect together! I was almost disappointed when I realized he was the one who abducted me. If he looks that good, then he can’t possibly do anything bad, I thought desperately. Just as I thought that, his beautifully manicured fingers attached to his hand came swinging and smacked my left cheek.
Wow. My hopes had never gotten dashed that fast before. I squinted my eyes to stop the spinning stars I was seeing and without warning, I brought my foot up and it hit him right in the soft spot. I may be super clumsy, but I can aim well. “Oooomphhh” was all I heard from the pretty boy and even though I was probably going to die soon, I couldn’t hold back a giggle. Out of nowhere, another hand this time, with ugly fingers hit my left cheek again. My vision went dark for a few seconds and I had to close my eyes to stop the tears from leaking out. I bit my lip and braced myself for the next hits that were sure to come. Instead, I felt nothing. I dared to open my eyes the tiniest bit and almost fainted at the sight. A second person had emerged. He was covered in piercings, and I seriously mean covered. There were piercings all over his arms and face ranging from hoops to studs and they were absolutely disgusting. His face, though, was half hidden by shades but I could make out a tattoo just under the piercing under his left ear. And it was a picture of a rat trap. A rat trap. Really? If you’re getting a tattoo, at least make it good. Pretty boy was standing right next to him, still holding his groin. But I had bigger things to worry about. Piercing guy opened his mouth to speak and I winced at the sound of his raspy voice, “Give us everything in your pockets, and don’t leave anything out. If you do, your friend over here won’t have a very happy ending.” He gestured to his belt, where a shiny black gun sat. Then, pointed to the street where Nicole would be, and made a gunshot sound.
My eyes widened, and I felt nauseous. These guys were not to be messed with. I looked around the tree and sure enough, Nicole was there, frantically looking around and typing something on her phone. “Okay” I managed to squeak out. Pretty boy cut the ropes around my hands and took out his own gun and pointed it at me.
“Don’t try anything funny” he warned. I took out my phone, a tissue, two dollars, my ID card from school, and a piece of paper with someone’s phone number on it, and handed it over to him, my hands shaking the whole time. He snatched it from me and put it in his own pocket. Why am I even in this bloody mess? I thought. Why me? I remembered reading in the news that some psychos were abducting kids just for the fun of it. I never even dreamed that it would happen to me!! Ugh. I shook my head, trying to clear my over crowded brain. I noticed piercing man talking to pretty boy and frowning. I heard something like, “No. No. It is her. Look at the left ankle.” My left ankle? There was nothing there except the birthmark. What has that got to do with any of this? My eyes darted back and forth and my ears strained, trying to get more. Suddenly, piercing guy took his gun out, placed it on my temple, and cocked the bullet into place. My stomach leapt into my throat, and it was all I could do to not start crying and screaming. “One more twitch of your eye, girl” he growled, “my bullet will go so deep through, there will be two holes in your head.” I gulped and nodded, trying not to have my head hit the gun. “That’s what you will learn with me. Now get to the car.” Exactly one second after he said that, a black minivan rushed into view. The driver got out, grabbed me, and pulled me inside, and I knew it was useless to protest. The other two followed, the door slammed, and it took off. All that was left of me was my backpack.
I stared out the window next to me, surprised that they didn’t tie me down or anything, but the driver pulled the shades down and my only view outside got blocked. Pretty boy, sitting next to me, looked at me with those eyes of his, and everything around me disappeared, except for his eyes. I couldn’t even remember how and why I was here. ”Are you okay?” I swear, those eyes were so hypnotizing, I barely registered anything he said. “Here, take this” he murmured, offering me a tissue. I grabbed it, still looking into his eyes, and blew my nose loudly.
“Um thanks.” I stammered out. After he looked away, I blinked as if I had just come out of a daze. Then, it hit me. I was getting kidnapped. The dude with the eyes (aka pretty boy) was one of those people. I just blew my nose into a probably poisonous tissue and I was probably going to die) I barely registered all this when I slumped in my seat, unconscious. The last thing I heard was a voice whispering, “Sleep well.”
I woke up with a huge migraine. I groaned and rolled over, reaching to pull my blankets up, and realized I trying to pull air. I snapped up, and all the memories of the day came flooding back to me, giving me an even bigger migraine. “Oh god.” I muttered, getting up to see where I was. A room was surrounding me an the whole thing was made of black tiles of some sort. Everywhere I looked, the only thing I could see was shiny black, and judging by the size, it was probably only as big as my room. All of a sudden, I heard a swish behind me and I spun around. What I thought was a plain wall was actually a door! It opened, pushing forward, and a man stepped in. Piercing man.
“Now, if you want to live, you better listen to exactly what I say.” he snarled, walking forward. I stepped back and stayed there, taking a deep breath. “You’ve been kidnapped for a reason. You’re going to do whatever we ask for, or there will be consequences.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a wicked looking knife, with a curvy blade and brown handle. It gleamed as a light coming from nowhere bounced off its silver surface. A sudden realization hit me and I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. If they were actually going to tell me to do what I thought they were going tell me, I would go crazy. There would be no room for error, no room for any clumsy mistakes. I put the knife in my pocket, concealing it completely from view. “If you tell the police, someone dies. If you tell your friends and families, someone dies. If you mess up, if you don’t do exactly what we ask for, someone dies.” Piercing man brought his hand slowly to his face and touched his rat trap tattoo, and then pointed to my left ankle. I reached down to look at it, and I let out a gasp. My birthmark was transformed into a picture. The exact same one as piercing man. It was a rat trap, and I was going to be the rat. “Oh, trust me. We have our ways of knowing what you did.” he said, the corner of his mouth rising. I trembled and opened my mouth to reply, “Okay.”
“Act normally, and tell them you were at school today. No one will know. If they do, someone dies” he repeated. “For your first task, you are going to kill someone. And that someone will be…..” As the name of the person reached my ear, I knew that I couldn’t do this. But I had to, if everyone I loved more was going to live. I was caught in this forever, with no escape.
I had no way out.
I was trapped.
© Copyright 2014 sahananeymar (divergentfios at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2017144-Trapped