The Shy Girl Has a Gun

The Shy Girl Has a Gun...Chapter 3

My eyes began to flutter open as I awoke from the deepest sleep I think I’ve ever had in my life. I automatically assumed that I was just in my bedroom, in my own house and in my comfortable surroundings, so when I looked around and saw the unfamiliar room, it was quite a surprise I can tell you that.

I shot up on the bed, scanning my eyes around the room. It was like a prison cell. The thin rock hard mattress I was currently on was on top of some sort of shelf coming off the stone walls. The entire room was grey, including the tiny metal side table and chair in the corner which was the only furnishings the room had.

The events of last night came rushing back to me as I took in my current surroundings, and I forgot how to breathe. Oh my god, I’ve been kidnapped. That hot boy from last night chased me, kidnapped me, drugged me and locked me in a cell. I was going to die. They were going to put me in a room and ask me if I ‘want to play a little game’ and tell me that living or dying is my choice.

Well, it clearly wasn’t right now as I’m being held hostage! If it was my choice I would be at home right now with ice cream watching Superbad, but instead I’m here!

My panicking rant in my head was quickly cut short as the metal door of my shoebox cell opened, making a loud clanging noise. I automatically jumped and pushed myself towards to wall so my back was pressing against it and away from the boy who just walked into the room. I looked at him, my eyes obviously glistening in fear.

It was the boy who kidnapped me.

“Morning princess.” He greeted me with a smile. I remained pressed up against the wall, not moving a muscle. He walked over to the bed, and I found myself pressing up against the wall so much I actually thought I was going to dent my spine from it. I flinched slightly as he raised his hand, thinking he was going to hit me or pull my hair or something. Instead, he held out his hand which was holding a plate with two pieces of toast on it.

I stared at the plate in disbelief, then back up at him. He was still smiling down at me. He looked way to friendly to be a kidnapper.

“I haven’t poisoned it, you’ve been out for a while and we’ve got a long day ahead. You better eat something.” He told me, pushing the plate towards me. I wearingly took it from him, never taking my eyes off him. “No thanks?” he asked, smirking slightly. I had to stop myself from flipping him off, realising that its probably best not to enrage the crazy kidnapper.

“Thanks.” I said quietly.

He grinned and walked over to the metal chair, pulling it out and plonking himself on it with a relieved sort of sigh. “If you don’t eat that toast, my feelings will be hurt. I made it myself.”

He was still grinning at me, and I looked at him like he was a freak. He had just abducted me, and now he was joking and grinning?

“Where the hell am I?” I finally snapped, flinging the plate of toast next to me on the mattress than can be mistaken for a pavement slab.

“You’re at The Agency sweetheart.” He told me simply, and I look at him confused. I gesture for him with my hand to carry on as I still had no idea what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t, so I spoke again.

“Agency? What like prostitution?” I asked, my stomach knotting in disgust at the thought of being sold for sex. “Are you a pimp?” I gasp, putting all the pieces together in my head.

He burst out laughing, leaning back against the chair and putting a fist to his mouth to muffle his laughter. I knew this should probably tell me he wasn’t a pimp and he had no intention of selling me for a snickers bar and a can of coke, but to be honest I was so confused the idea still is flashing through my mind.