Okay, so maybe her strategy had been risky, but she liked to live life on the edge. Can you blame her though? A boring life just wasn't what she wanted. Of course, you have to step back and look at the big picture, her life wasn't that boring, it was actually pretty exciting. Kissing boys behind the lockers, ditching class, detention, anything and everything a rebel like her could ever want. But the suspension slips and the parent scoldings weren't enough for her rebellious attitude. She wanted to live the life that would bring her the most satisfaction, live the life she was meant to live.
Unfortunately, her turbulent life style had now gotten the best of her.
The trunk wasn't that uncomfortable. There was enough room for her to move her body an inch or so in a few directions. Of course, she had cut herself loose from the tight cord that had bound her hands and feet, she could bet he didn't see that coming. Despite what most might think, she was anything but a dumb blonde, in fact, she was quite resourceful.
She might have been resourceful, but she was no genius, escaping from the automobile would take an immense amount of luck. She had kicked and pushed, but the trunk remained closed.
After an exhausting few hours, the car had started up, and began to move. She was thrown around for about twenty minutes until she had snuggled herself in the back corner, where she only experienced little tumult.
The car just kept going, only stopping for what she assumed were stoplights. Now all she could do was wait. It was too bad she was an impatient person, otherwise she might have done something rational, like call the police or an adult, or anyone for that matter. But no, her little flip phone remained tucked in her boot, just as she remained tucked in her corner. All she wanted right now was to get to the end of this endless trip so she could find out its purpose. All she needed was the purpose, then she could use her pointless phone.
But the car kept on going.
and going.
and going.
Her eyelids became heavy, her breaths became slow, her adrenaline left her body.
And then she left the real world in favor of her own mind.
The sudden click of a lock brought her back to reality.
The darkness surrounding her brought back the memories of being kidnapped in shoved in this awful place, memories she wanted to shove away once more.
Then suddenly, there was light. A bright, overpowering light. It took her a few moments to realize that it was the yellowish glow of a flashlight.
Before she could even think, hands were grabbing at her, and she was thrown to the ground by her masked kidnappers. The ground was cold, and the air was crisp, but it was the most refreshing feeling she had ever felt.
It all happened so fast, she couldn't even comprehend. One second she was being tossed around like a doll, and then she was lying on the hard ground, her breath creating little clouds above her as the car she had called home for the past hours drove away.
She had no idea where she was, for all she knew she could be half way across the country, miles from home. So she did the most analytical thing she could think of, she got up, and she walked around.
From where she was at, she could see a small river that ran through the incredibly tiny town, and a dusty, abandoned street. Multiple ancient buildings lined the sidewalk, looking as if they were about to collapse. Among the buildings, there was an old library whose lights were still shining. She mentally shot herself multiple times.
Of all the places to be open at this hour...
Holding back the urge to scout around further, she made her way to the crumbling building. The closer she got, the more her instincts started going to work. The building looked at least a century old and was built out of deep red bricks. A sign hung above the entryway, teetering ever so slightly. The sign read: Black Brook Library. She mentally went through of all the places she'd ever been, but "Black Brook" didn't ring a bell.
Here goes nothing, she thought. The glass doors were cool against her palms, and despite appearances, the door swung gracefully on its hinges. Warm air blasted her face as she stepped inside, a sudden relief, she hadn't even realized how cold she was. The little bell that hung in the doorway made a cheerful tinkling noise as the door swung closed, but deep inside the sound made her sick.
"Hello?" She called out, her voice raw and cracked from her time in the trunk of that horrid machine. When no answer came, she took matters into her own hands and sifted through the vast library, calling out every once and a while. Each shelf and every book was coated in a fine layer of dust, it was as if the place had been abandoned, but fresh flowers lay in every vase and not a cobweb in sight. She came to the conclusion that the library wasn't the most popular place in this minuscule town, but it was definitely loved by someone.
She slumped into one of the ugly, floral-designed sofas and let out a long sigh. This was pointless, it was time to do something productive. Her hand slid into her black boot, fingers grasping the small phone, but she paused at the sharp sound of a creaking floorboard. Holding her breath, she slowly turned her head in the direction of the sound.
Her curly mop of red hair shook violently, her hands trembled, she looked about eighteen or so, and her green eyes were haunting. She clutched a large maroon book to her denim dress, as if it would protect her from the horrendous sight that lay before her.
Before the poor girl could even blink, the blonde was already jumping off the couch and running to the door. Her hands once again pressed against the cool glass, but this time the hinges didn't swing, they didn't even budge. Instead, she was thrown to the ground by her own momentum.
"I've read more mystery novels than you can count, did you really think I wouldn't lock the door?" The red head asked.
She moaned, pain spreading through out her body. "I'm sorry I didn't take you as the intelligent type, Ginger." She grumbled.
"It's Paige, for your information." Paige said, offering her hand.
Ignoring the gesture, she stood up on her own, using the glass door for support.
"I suppose you might be able to tell me where I might be at." She asked.
"Black Brook." She said, "Black Brook, New York."
"Wait, hold up. New York?" She definitely was going to have a hard time getting back to Springfield.
Paige nodded, and she noticed that the ginger was biting her lip. She got nervous easily, she could tell, she did the same thing.
"Tell me one thing," She said, interrupting her thoughts, "What's your name?"
"C.C.," She said, "My name is C.C."
