Is this Rare?

Chapter 11

"Just put the knife down." Jenn says calmly but firmly. There's no shaky sound in her voice at all. I mean, seriously. If I were in Jennifer shoes, well, I be burst out in tears and practically on my knees begging and all. Man, I might even have not been able to speak or move at all.

Anyways, whoever the kidnapper was replies to Jenn with a stark, "Why??"

"We don't want any trouble. Honestly, we don't! We're just girls on a vacation." Jennifer tries to convince the girl, who still has the cold smooth knife pressed against my throat, nearly blocking my oxygen and cutting into my pale skin.

"Why are you here then??" The strange girl presses on.

Jenn changes the subject, possibly trying another tactic from one of the crime shows she watches, "We knocked on your door earlier. Did you hear--?"

"Of course, I heard it! What do you think I am? Stupid?" She rudely cuts off Jennifer. Then, after she finishes, I begin to tremble. Not violently. Well, not yet anyway. But, just slightly. I can feel my shoulders shake and a tremor is starting to buzz through my fingers as some adrenaline kicks in. I try to focus on slowing my breathing, keeping my eyes open and not giving in to my fear. The terrified part of me want to pass out and wake up when this is all over, but I can't give in, I can't. Jennifer is trying so hard, I can tell. While I slow my breathing, I keep listening to the conversation between Jenn and the girl who is holding me captive: for no apparent reason, that is.

"Well then, why didn't you answer us?" Jennifer continues questioning her.

"I don't open the door to strangers!" She nearly shouts at Jenn, "Did you're mother teach you anything as a child? Or did you just blow it off like most kids? Or maybe you just don't think before you act: that can get you in a whole lot of trouble missy."

Jenn tries yet another angle by asking, "Well, do you know anyone else around here? I am sure not to many people come by here, you know? If you don't open up for strangers, then who would you open up for? Does someone else live here with you?"

The girl, who seems very fed up with Jennifer, as well as her comments and questions, threatens, "You had better keep your mouth shut or your pretty little friend here? Well, she might decide to stop breathing. All the nice ones die in horror movies. Don't they?" Then she tightens her grip around one of my shoulders, as does her hold on the knife handle. I wince at her tight grip. She continues, "Yeah, I heard you're little conversation. You're right: all the nice ones do die and that's why I'm still alive. That's the reason your friend is going to die!"

After I hear those few words, I begin crying, silently though because I just don't think I would be wise for me to let this girl know, I am afraid. Terrified, in fact. Tears make their way down my makeup covered face and dripped onto the floor with a plopping sound. Choking sounds escape my mouth, it's the only way I can breath for the facts that I have a knife pressing into my neck and I'm sobbing now. Still trying to be quiet and not afraid. I keep telling myself, "You're not afraid. Everything is ok. You are not allowed to be afraid. No fear. No fear. Not afraid." But, deep down, I know I'm lying to myself. I am terrified. I am afraid. I am full of fear: from my toes to my head. What if I do die? I will leave all my friends behind. I would never have had the chance to experience what love feels like! And, what about the rest of my life? What about my future? What about a family one day? And, I haven't even started college yet! What about--?

My eyes have closed. Darkness. I hear the sound of my blood pounding though my veins. My heart beating fast than ever before. The faint sound of conversation. Then, it's fading away.  All of it. The sounds. The colors. Even the darkness. It's fading. I'm losing conciseness. Everything has a fuzzy quality to it. 

Finally, I gain control of my breathing. Next, I just focus on blocking out the rest of their conversation. After about five minutes of just focusing on the inside of my eyelids and the sound of my even breathing, I feel her grip lighten. She stands me on my feet and roughly shoves my towards Jennifer. I hug on to Jennifer for two reasons. One, because I'm so overwhelmed, this is honestly way to much for me to handle and experience in one day, let alone less than an hour. And two, I can't necessarily hold up my own weight, at the moment. Jenn helps me to the wall, I lean on it while Jenn goes to talk to the girl.

She slides her back down the wall and sits on the floor.

Eventually, I hear her say, "My name is Andrea."