Prologue
As I sit here, in this dusty old factory outside LA I wonder how it happened to me.
How did I end up with a gag in my mouth tied to a chair?
Why did I have to be that girl who ended up being kidnapped by a psycho?
I stare at my cell phone which he had kindly removed from my back pocket and put just out of my reach. I look around me at the boxes and tables and chairs and other old junk. I stare at my bare feet and my ripped up jeans. I stare at the ceiling and the lone oil lamp next to me.
Again, I think about knocking over the lamp; lighting this place on fire. Killing me. But I don’t.
I still don't know what made him pick me. I think about it for a while until I’m almost asleep. Suddenly the door is busted open and in it's place, He is standing.
Looking right at me.
YOU ARE READING
The Funny Things That Happen
AléatoireLies. Stories you tell yourself and others to protect something, or someone. Secrets. Things you keep to protect yourself. Regret. The feeling you get when you put the two together. Sixteen year old Sam Greenland never imagined what...
