Captive

Bad Luck

The smell of cheese and fresh pizza hung in the air, and the heat from the ovens sent waves of warmth throughout the restaurant as I waited for my order to be done. I couldn't believe I was reduced to this sorry state, working my butt off as a pizza delivery girl. Working week nights bringing lazy people food; this work really is disgraceful.

"Anna your two pepperoni pizzas with light sauce are done! You can head out now!" Yelled Mark, my manager, as he handed me two pizza boxes then left to go yell at some cooks.

I let out a sigh, and then took off out the door into the chilly winter night. The sky was dark and the moon was out, sending slivers of light through the buildings around me.

It was so cold I could see my breath; thank God I had the pizzas to keep me warm.

I shoved my hand into my pocket, pulled out my car keys, and unlocked my old run down Honda. I then proceeded to put the pizzas into a thermal bag to keep them warm, and headed over to the driver's side door.

Not even a year ago, I was a secretary of a big company and was living in a nice condo with my high school sweetheart and soon-to-be fiancé. Sure my dad's friend helped me out a lot by landing me that job but just as much as my dad helped me get it, he helped me loose it. my father's debt turned all the things in my life around for the worst. I was fired from my job and my boyfriend dumped me. I lost my condo and my pride.

Now I slave away at stupid jobs like this to pay his debt. Ever since my dad passed away last year, all his debt was pushed on me. I was the only family the old man had, and I was the only one to push his debt on.

I still have to pay off $780,000 more but with every passing month it goes unpaid, there is more and more interest.

Well it could be worse, right? I could be homeless. All I should be worrying about right now is where to deliver these pizzas.

It looks like its Room 364 at the Hilton's Hotel a few blocks away. This should be easy. Within nine minutes I had arrived and was entering the elevator heading up to the third floor.

The doors opened and I began my search for room 364.

" 359... 360... 361... 362... 363--" I mumbled as a sudden loud banging noise caught my attention. It was coming from the door marked 374. It sounded like someone was arguing in a different language... Russian maybe.

I couldn't help but eavesdrop and listen to what was going on. As I put my ear on the door it flung open. I, being a super clumsy person of course, fell right into the room dropping the pizzas and making a fool of myself.

I quickly sat up and noticed I was surrounded by a bunch of menacing looking men with guns. The smell of cigar smoke and a slight hint of blood hung in the air. The very smell made me sick to my stomach. I looked to the door, about to make a run for it, when one of the men came up and slammed the door shut. A cold chill ran down my spine as I finally realized how dire my current situation was. These guys didn't look like the kind to forgive and forget.

Time seemed to slow down as I scanned my surroundings. my heart was beating so quickly it hurt. All around me were men of all types. One in particular looked to be unamused at it all, while the others seemed to be in bitter moods.

"You, woman! What were you doing outside our door?" asked one who looked to be the oldest and wisest of the bunch, his deep Russian accent echoed in the large hotel room.

"I-I... I was j-just delivering pizza to room 364." I stuttered as I pointed to the smashed pizza boxes on the ground. The intimidating guy looked at me, then back to the pizza boxes a few times proceeding to speak again.