Kidnapped

Chapter 1

Chelsea's POV

No one has found me. No one has ever heard my screams. His wife has no idea that there's a teenage girl right under her feet. My family has no clue that their beloved daughter rots in a 7 by 7 room. They don't even know that I get tortured in Mark Kolson's basement day after day.

I stopped screaming for help years ago. I learned not to the hard way, and I have scars to prove it. Five years of being cramped in this little room. I have a mattress that takes up most of the room. A plaid red and black blanket and a pillow stained with blood lays on my "bed". The Choices We Make rests on top of it. I know that book forwards and backwards. I read it about four times a week. Multiply that by 260 (how many weeks I've been down here-give or take a few), I've read it approximately 1,040 times. I don't have much else to do down here....

On the other side of the mattress is a small pile of clothes. I wash them in the shower and hang them on the sink to dry. I guess I'm lucky to have a bathroom attached to the room. It's big enough to fit a very tiny, moldy, shower, a toilet, and a sink. Next to the sink, there's a basket filled with all toiletries. I think Mark makes sure I don't dye because he enjoys torturing me. But if the going gets tough I wouldn't be surprised if he kills me. He had threatened it before. Heck, I've been close to death a couple of times by now.

I was currently laying on my bed singing quietly to myself. I don't mean to be conceited, but I have a decent voice. It's nothing spectacular, but I don't sound terrible. Ive always loved to sing, but I've gotten increasingly better sense I've been kidnapped. I try to look on the bright side of things. I find it really important. It seems like once you fall into the black hole of depression it takes every last ounce of you to get out. I can't afford to take that risk.

The trap door on the top of my ceiling opened. My stomach turned. There's only three reasons that Mark would come down here; to 1. give me food, 2. abuse me in any way, or 3. kill me. I'm really hoping for reason number one.

My heart rate slowed when he didn't throw down the latter. Instead, Mark dropped down an orange, a water bottle, and two pieces of bread. I quickly scurried and picked it up. My stomach growling at the sight do food.

"What do you say!?" Mark's menacing voice boomed.

"Thank you," I spit out.

"Watch your tone." And with that he slammed the trap door shut. I know I was being risky with my attitude but sometimes I just can't help it.

I unpeeled the orange and closed my eyes as the juice coated my taste buds. I was lucky to get as much food as I did. Thank you, God, for keeping me alive. I put this situation in Your hands and I will never loose faith.

Andrew's POV

The purr of my truck came to a stop as I turned off the ignition. I closed my eyes and leaned against the steering wheel. Please help me, Father, and may You guide me through my life. Especially in these hours of darkness, I said a quick prayer before I opened my door and took the walkway to my uncle's house. I don't like him at all. He's just...weird and creepy. And now I have to live with him.

I knocked on the door and Aunt Jane opened the door. She was okay, but she wasn't my favorite person. She's way too peppy. "Andrew, darling, hello! Come in! Come in!" She ushered my inside. I took a look around and shuddered. Something just didn't feel right. "Sit down, my dear!" I took a seat on the couch. This doesn't feel like home.

"Tell me, how-"

Uncle Mark cut her off, "Shut up Jane. Now listen, boy, here are some rules you need to obey. You're only allowed in your room, the kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Don't snoop around anywhere in this house. This is my house, you just have to live in it. And stay out if my way," Mark ticked the rules off on his fingers.

Wow, I feel welcomed.

"Go grab your things," Uncle Mark yelled. My parents never talked like that. Not unless I was in trouble.

After grabbing my things, Uncle Mark practically threw me into my room. It was on the first floor, which I liked because that meant I had a whole floor to myself. "We're leaving. Remember the rules," he growled before stalking out of he house with a slam of the door.

Anger rose in me and I punched the wall. "I wish I could take everything back," I whispered.

After I composed myself, I unpacked my things. Settling on my bed I grabbed my guitar feeling alive as my fingers strummed the strings. Playing the chords of one of my favorite songs, I started singing.

"The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight. Maybe it can stop tomorrow for stealing all my time. I am here still waiting though I have my doubts..." I sung my heart out meaning every word. "I'm falling apart, barely breathing. With a broken heart that's still beating. In the pain, there is healing. In Your name, I find healing. So I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm barely holding on to You." I'm holding on to You.

~A/N~
THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE NEW AND REVISED VERSION OF KIDNAPPED IS UPDATED!!!! I'm so excited!!!! I really hope you all read it!!!! I decided I'd put it up today (at 11:59 pm) as my birthday present to you, so happy my birthday! 🎉 😝 HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND I HOPE YOU lOVE THE NEW VERSION! I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!