Getting Back to Friday

Chapter 6

Kasper's POV

"Hey, kid. Wake up." a voice whispered as it's hand patted my cheek. I groaned and peeled my eyelids apart, looking up at the dark figure of a man. It had taken me two and a half hours to fall asleep, and just when I did, this asshole woke me up again. My vision was too blurred from drowsiness to capture any distinct features of the person, but I knew it was that other kid. The need to know his name prodded at me like a kid with a stick would to an ant hill. I took a deep, shaky breath, hoping to get a grip on the little shocks of anxiety I felt boiling inside of me.

"You need to eat." the man handed me a granola bar. I stared at it, curious on what he did to it to want to offer it to me. I was resentful towards accepting it, but my stomach was resentful towards me being resentful towards it. I needed food.

I sat up, peeling my cheek off of the cold concrete floor. How long had I really been asleep for my cheek to have stuck to the ground?

The man edged the granola bar towards me one more time, and I accepted it into my shaky pale hands. Slowly peeling off the wrapper, I nibbled at the edge of it and listened as his silky voice spoke.

"You need to hear the rules for being here, okay?" I did not nod or acknowledge him in any way, but he continued anyways, "There are only four, but you need to listen closely and remember them, alright?"

This time I nodded. He stood up from his kneeling position beside me and pulled out a small folded up sheet of paper from his pocket and began reading it aloud. How professional, I thought.

"Rule number one, you are not allowed to be loud. That one is pretty straight forward."

Thank you for the clarification.

"Rule number two, you may- um, only use the potty- um, twice a day."

The potty? What am I, five?

"Rule number three, you are not allowed to fight back. Tell her that the consequences may vary. Oh wait, what?"

Tell her that consequences may vary? I don't think you were supposed to read that part out loud, dumbass.

"And rule number four, don't ever tell anybody about what we do to you in here."

I don't keep promises.

I blinked my eyes, feeling them well up with tears. My mind hung over the fact that he said twice a day when speaking about using the restroom. Did that mean that I would be here for a long time? My heart pounded against my chest with frustration. He shoved the paper back in his pocket and clapped his hands together once. "So, you understand that?"

"...yes." I whispered. My hoarse and weakened voice seemed to have taken him back, and he stood still for a second.

"Right, um, okay. Thank you- I mean, um..." He was clueless on what to say. His voice made him sound like he was in his late twenties, but he acted like a frightened ten-year-old child. What right did he have to be frightened? He was the one who took me! He drugged me, tied me up, hurt my dog. I don't even know what happened to Friday. A tear slipped through my eyes at the thought of my beautiful friend, lying motionless, probably dead, in some ditch somewhere where they abandoned the body to get rid of the evidence. Would they have even hid the body? Would they show it the respect it deserved and burried it? I had to ask... I just had to.

The man turned to leave the dark room, and before he made it out, I whispered, "Thank you."

He almost tripped, his feet stopped so fast. They made a loud squeak across the floor that echoed through the room. He did not turn to face me, but just called over his shoulder, "What did you say?"

I shifted my weight. "Thank you," I stammered, "for the granola bar. I was very hungry and it helped."

I wanted to be nice to the kid. Maybe if I was nice and respectful, I could earn his trust, and play him like a Nintendo game until I managed to get the hell out of here. It made me sick, having to be nice to this pathetic and sickly bastard, but I just had to do it. I had to get out. I had to get back to Dad, and Graham, and the others.

I had to get back to Friday.

He was quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. I curled my lips back in my teeth, hoping that he wouldn't lash out for some weird reason or see through my kindness act. He spun on his heels and leaned up against the wall by the door across from me. "What is your name, kid?"

What a stupidly-random question.

I hesitated before answering. "Kasper. And yours? I know your buddy out there is named Carter." I didn't know if it was an intelligent decision to make, mentioning that I knew his friend's name, but I wasn't thinking at the time and spoke before what I was saying processed in my head. I sunk back deep against the wall, hoping that he wouldn't lose his cool, which he seemed to have a good handle on.

"Don't tell Carter I told you this, but you can call me Chandler. I am not saying whether or not that is my real name, but it is what you can call me." I nodded. I cold feel his eyes scanning me up and down, head to toe. "I forgot to bring you a drink, are you thirsty?"

Why was he being so nice to me? He had to have a plan or something vial and deadly in mind. Or did he already seem to trust me? If that was the case, then this escape was going to be a lot easier than I thought. "Yes please." I groaned.

"I will be right back." He left the door open as he left, but I could hear that he only walked a few steps before the sound of a fridge opened. The kitchen had to be right next door and he was not worried that I would try to escape. Chandler seemed very care free about this all, and I wondered if he had ever done something like this before. Letting out a deep shaky breath, I closed my eyes and listened to the footsteps marching around outside the door.

"Here," he spoke suddenly, and I opened my eyes. He was face to face with me, and I jumped, startled. "I hope you like sweet tea. It is all we've got."

I accepted the drink and took a few mild gulps until there was only a quarter of the cup filled. The savoury taste soothed my aching throat and I licked my lips with happiness. "We are going to be leaving in an hour. We need to get out of here. You should be asleep by then."

I dropped the glass out of my hand and its contents spilled all over the floor. "What do you mean, "I should be asleep?'"

He pat my shoulder and picked up the plastic cup, ignoring the puddle of beverage that he stomped in. "I slipped something in your drink. Sorry, Kassidy, but I had to do it. It should be in effect in a few minutes. Sleep tight."

"It's Kasper!" I barked in protest. He sighed and shook his head, not looking at me anymore. Was that a sign of remorse?

"Kasper, sorry." Leaving the room, I could hear him singing quietly to himself.

"Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop... when the wind blows, the cradle will rock..."