Restricted | A Kidnapped Novel

Restricted | Chapter One

     I always thought of myself as someone who wouldn't pity myself or think, "why me?" in a tough situation. I always that that I would be the one to work through it. The one to tough it out and end up smiling in the end. I thought all of this, but I was wrong. So terribly wrong.

     My name is Terra Vertch. I'm a nineteen year old brat who still hasn't found a good college to go to. At least that's what my family says. However, I like to think of myself as a very smart individual who knows how to free load long enough to save the most money possible. And currently, I'm working to get that money I said I wanted to save.

     "A quarter pound burger, and a large order of fries, correct? Is that all for you today, sir?" It's true. I'm a nineteen year old woman who is stuck at a job at McDonalds. But not because I want to. Most certainly not. It was just the easiest thing to do all through high school. No major effort like walking dogs or babysitting. Though, I have done plenty of that. 

     "Terra, I can take over for you." I glance at my watch before letting my coworker take my place. Exhausted, I head to the back to have my lunch break. What's so great about my work place is that the employees have a whole empty staff room to themselves when they're on break. It almost makes up for the shame I have to endure while wearing the uniform.

     Eager to eat, I slip into the room, and take out my lunch from one of the many assigned lockers on the wall. My dream is to no longer have my name upon one of these lockers anymore. I sit down, and start eating my mom-made sandwich slowly.

     "After this last shift, you're done, right?" This bubbly question comes from none other than cheerful Tomo, who's sitting right across from me. She's happily bouncing up and down, kicking her legs back and forth underneath the long wooden table. Ah, the life of being sixteen. Tomo's green eyes look up at me questioningly when I hesitate to answer. That is her only character flaw. She is highly impatient.

     "Oh, yeah! I can't wait for it to be over. I have the weekend off this time around." I laughed nervously, not trying to give away my uncomfortableness whenever Im alone with her.

     "Aw, lucky! I have the weekend shifts. The boss is only picking on me. And why only me? I'm the one she works the hardest . . ." Through Tomo's rant, I tune her out part way, nodding when she looks expectantly, sighing, when she shakes her small head. This is it. This is what I hate. She's complaining about the most trivial thing. Of course, I would hate to get the weekend shift too, but it doesn't do any good complaining about it. But that's just the type of person Tomo is. She likes to complain. And so do a lot of other people. It's just annoying. And that's the thing I hate the most about people. ". . .don't you think so too? The boss is really annoying." Tomo finishes, pouting. Her short red hair falls into her face, and she sweeps it back, deciding to tie it up.

     "Oh, come on. What do you think the boss would say if she heard that?" I sigh, wishing I could be as young and naive as she's being. But Tomo doesn't know or care about what I'm thinking. She just sits back in her chair, twisting her hair with a stubborn look on her face. I want to tell her that that's not attractive at all, but she'd probably get furious at me. The absolute last thing I need is a mad Tomo shouting my brains out. She's already melting them with all her complaining. With a huff, she gets up.

     "Whatever," she mutters, packing up her things, and setting it in her locker. When she heads out of the staff room, I wave a little with no acknowledgement. Well, I can finally eat in peace now. I nibble off more of my sandwhich, and relish the wonderful Capri Sun I had managed to buy from my brother. Call me pathetic, but I really hate coffee, and my parents won't get me juices because I have complimentary coffee at work. I have no choice but to bribe my stingy, twelve year old brother. How I wish I could con him like I did when he was younger. The two of us really don't get along at all.

     When I finish, I pack up, and head to the grillers. The way my job works is in a rotation. If you want to stay on, and be a good employee, you have to know everything from handling the costumers, to not burning the food. None of it is really easy, yet it's not hard. I'm better at making the oil stained food, than standing up for hours and greeting whoever comes in with a smile. Such is the life of a former NEET.

     A few hours pass, and after transitionining all over the workplace, I finally have freedom. And today's the day I get paid. It's the best day of a shortened week. I head over to my boss's office to collect my pay. I knock on the door before ending, and am greeted with a kind smile from my lovely employer. She's the perfect example of a proper lady. With wavvy, raven black hair, and lips perfectly adorned with red gloss, she's the perfect image of Snow White. Of course, I'm not interested in frivilous things like makeup. They wouldn't do anything to enhance me. I just love the way it looks on my boss, Miss Flace.

     "Nice work out there today, Terra. Are you here to collect you week's pay?" I nod, not bothering to hide my eagerness. Miss Flace laughs, getting her checkbook from the drawer in her brown desk. The room is nicely furnished with an African theme streaming across the walls. The floor is wooden, and the African design also takes its hold there. The shelves are decorated with many African animals. I once asked about all the objects in the room. A big mistake, because Miss Flace will spend the whole day talking to you about her journeys in that country.

     "Here you are. Have a nice rest of the day," she says, finishing up and handing me the check. I smile, and tell her good bye, and then head to the staff room to gather my things, then the bathrooms to change. Yes, my branch is still raising enough money to get changing rooms. Another pitiful thing to add to the score.

     On the walk home, I stop by the library. Living in a small town has its advantages. Everything is close by, and good for people who don't have cars. I check out a few books to keep myself preoccupied for the weekend, then head the rest of the way to my parent's place. The scenery in Florida is amazing, but despite its peaceful appearance, I have to be cautious. Lot's of people target girls like me, walking alone by themselves. Or so I'm told. Like that would ever happen to me. I'm practically flat chested, and my hair's that dirty olive brown that looks like I've just rolled around in some mud. Don't even talk about my fashion tastes. Jeans and T-shirts are practically all the rage with me. That, and the fact that they're cheap.

     "Welcome home, Nessy." I clench my teeth, and set my stuff by the stairs. I then run to the game room and kind of tackle my younger brother, who seems like he's already fifteen. It's a running gag with him to call me the lochness monster. I don't know why, but he looks at my hair whenever he says it, and that deserves the death penalty.

     "Just you try saying that again, you Tsundra Brat," I replied, struggling to get him into either an arm lock or a neck lock. Even though I'm the oldest, I'm terribly weak, aside from my kicks. My pullup total comes to about zero. So it's easy for my brother to pull a reverse pin on me.

     "My name is Castiel, Nessy," he says with a frown. He absolutely hates what I'm referrencing to when I called him Tsundra Brat. I don't blame him. I forced him to watch the entire series, and that has left the poor boy scarred for life. I don't think he'll ever like another girl again.

     "And my name's, Terra, Brat," I retort. Castiel and I instantly stop struggling with each other once our mother walks in. We scramble to get as far away from each other as possible. Though, it's too late to hide our little argument.

     "Terra, Castiel! Are you two fighting again?! Brothers and sister should get along. Especially since you're all each other has," Mother says, making me question the logic of the world. That black haired creature in the corner with the game controller in his hands is a demon. He's the last person I want to get along with. Everything in my genes tells me this. And my mom expects me to get along with him? There's just a time when you ask for too much.

     "Ah, you won't catch us fighting again," I say with the cheesiest smile I can manage. She sighs, and glances from me, to Castiel, then back to me.

     "A mother can only hope. . ." she says, departing to her room. I assume Father's still working, so I proceed to mine. In the comfort of my soft bed and blue walls, I feel like life isn't all that bad. I still have a chest full of stuffed animals, and a messy dresser, but it just gives me happy memories of being younger. There isn't anything so bad that could make me forget all this. There isn't anything so bad that would make me start complaining like Tomo. I'm perfectly content as I am. Who knew I was about to be proven wrong in exactly three days' time. . .