Worst Summer Ever... (Book 7 of Adopted by Jenna and Tyler Joseph)

7. Samantha

My head hurts. Why does my head hurt? And why is it so dark? And cramped? I'm curled up somewhere. I can't see anything and I can't really hear anything. Every now and then there's a bumping feeling and I get jostled around but I have no idea where I am.

I'd gone into my dressing room to start getting ready for the event and then everything went dark. Maybe I'd had a seizure? It must have been a bad one. I must have been completely unconscious. I tried opening my eyes. And realized they were open. The darkness was that total.

I tried to stretch out but my movements were restricted. I was curled up in what felt like a box?!  I'm in a box?! 

I started kicking and screaming, trying to get out. I felt around my tiny space, trying to stay calm and trying to find a way out. I felt around.

Okay. There's some sort of covering or something that I'm lying on. And I can feel an opening above me. God. It's like I'm in a very square coffin.

I don't have a lot of room to move but I can feel air, so I'm not going to suffocate.

Where the hell am I?!

I tried kicking up at the lid, but I didn't make any headway.

I sighed. Okay. Next?

I looked for my phone. Duh. I should have done that to begin with.

No phone. Shit.

I tried yelling again.

"Hello? Is anyone out there? Help!"

Suddenly, I was jolted as we stopped. I heard voices. Or just one voice? I wasn't sure. I was moving, I could tell.

Then I wasn't. I kicked the side of the box.

"Hey! If someone's out there let me out!" I screamed and kicked as hard as I could.

I was getting tired though. My adrenaline was running out and I was starting to get shaky. I hoped my blood sugar wasn't going low. Without my phone I couldn't tell.

I lay still trying to listen. I couldn't hear much. Wherever I was it was pretty quiet. Which meant I probably wasn't in the venue anymore. Because it had been loud and busy all day.

But where am I? Why am I here? And how did I get in here?

I was nervous and scared but I felt myself and I could tell I was otherwise fine. I hadn't even had a chance to change into my outfit for tonight. I was still in jeans and a hoodie.

I tried not to panic, but it was getting very hard to keep my cool. I kept kicking at the sides of whatever I was in. I couldn't lay flat and stretch out fully. It was not very comfortable.

I kept kicking the sides and calling out. But it was getting exhausting and I didn't want to wind up using whatever sugar stores I still had.

I wound up falling asleep because that's one of the way I deal.

"Wake up," a voice came through my haze. I opened my eyes. I recognized the voice. But, no. It couldn't be.

I opened my eyes.

"Mark?" I said.

"You mean Uncle Mark!" He said.

"No," I said.

He slapped me across the face.

"I said Uncle Mark!" He yelled at me.

"Fine, uncle Mark," I said.

He grabbed me under the arms and pulled me up.

"Get out," he said. I climbed out of the box I was in. I saw now that it was a crate used to transport equipment. Like cables, lights, speakers, stuff for concerts and shows like my event.

I looked around and saw we were in a motel room.

"Sit down," he said.

He looked kind of terrible.

"Mark?" I said. "What's going on? Why are you here? Why did you do this?"

"It's UNCLE Mark!" He said, slapping me again. I was scared but I was also really angry. "You ruined my life!"

"How did I ruin your life?"

Keep him talking Sam, I thought to myself.

"After I left the States without you, Carol divorced me. I lost my job and my work visa. I had to come back to America. But it's okay. Because you and I, you'll help me get back on my feet."

"I? How? Why? You lost. My parents won. Why couldn't you just leave me alone?!"

"Because those so-called parents of yours can't keep you safe! You're in the news all the time! Your car accident, your amputation, the shooting at your school, whatever happened in January that you were back in the news again. I can keep you safe. I'm your uncle. I'm your blood. You should have been sent to live with us."

"You didn't even know I existed!" I argued.

"They should have looked harder!"

"Uncle Mark. Please. Just take me home. I won't even say anything to anyone and you can just leave."

I was trying not to cry. I was scared though. It's been two, almost three years since I even had to think about Mark. And not only was he back, he fucking kidnapped me!

"What? Home? You are home, sweetie. Well, once things quiet down, we can settle somewhere."

I was moving closer to the phone in the room. I wasn't sure where we were, but I could still call Mom or Dad.

Mark must have noticed because he looked over at the phone and then pulled it out of the wall. Dammit.

"Can't have you trying to get in touch with those dangerous people," he said.

"They're my parents!" I said. "They're not dangerous!"

"From my perspective, with them, your birth father got you, you were in a terrible car accident, you lost a leg, your school got shot up and you took a bullet to the leg then something happened in January. They are doing a piss poor job of keeping you safe."

"Please, Mark," I said.

"Uncle Mark!" He yelled and slapped me, again. And he complained my family were the dangerous ones?