Kidnapped

Distractions

Two days past without a word from anybody from the outside. Denim Guy was a no show, which at first was a relief. Then we realized that we actually needed him for things. Food and water for example. Once we heard the door open over our heads and then close again. At first we were to afraid to move, but as minutes past and we heard nothing, James slowly walked up the stairs to check. He found two bottles of water.

A while later the bottles were laying thrown on the floor, empty. I was sitting on the floor with my back against the bed and James was laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. It had been a great relief to drink the water and it seemed to satisfy our empty stomachs as well. At least for a while.

"What is the first thing you will do when you get out?"

It was the first thing he ever asked me about my self. The first question that indicated that he wanted to get to know me. He looked at me with that sad almost-smile I had seen so many times on TV and in all the movies.

"I´m going to call my brother", I said without hesitation. "He must be wondering why I haven´t called him for so long ..." I got lost in my own thoughts for a while before I asked him. "How about you? What´s the first thing you´re gonna do?" 

He was quiet for a while before he replied. "I´m gonna brush my teeth."

Before I could stop myself I burst out laughing. The tension from the last couple of days just came up to the surface as I laughed out loud for the first time in, what seemed like for ever. James started laughing to and pretty soon we were both gasping for breath, tears rushing down our cheeks. I still don´t know why it was so funny. I think it was that the whole situation was just so absurd and his comment was so ridiculous.

"Where are you from?" he asked me after a while, when we both could breath again. "I can´t place your accent.

He was laying on his side now, facing me, with his head resting in his hand. His hair had fallen down over those green eyes of his, making him look so young and innocent.

"I´m from Sweden", I answered him. "I moved to LA just a few weeks ago, to live with my aunt for a while. I´m supposed to get back to Sweden in a month or so, when school starts again."

"How old are you?"

I just stared at him for a while and then gave him a secretive smile. "Have no one ever told you that you shouldn´t ask a woman about her age?" I asked and made him chuckle. He rolled his eyes and sat up next to me, with his back against the bed.

"How about I tell you my age first then", he asked with a flirty look in his eyes. I swear, I could get lost in those eyes. I remember saying once that I liked blue eyes the most. I take that back. I like green eyes.

"I already know how old you are", I told him before I could stop myself. He raised an eyebrow in surprise with a smug expression. Damn, my stupid mouth! 

"Really? How old am I then?"

"You´re thirty seven", I answered him, blushing. "My friend Matilda has been obsessed with you, ever since she saw True Love."

He raised an eyebrow again and smiled. "Aha ... well, when we get out of here, right after I´ve brushed my teeth of course, remind me to pay your friend Matilda a visit. I too happen to like True Love. It paid for my beach house. Now, tell me how old you are. Don´t think you can talk yourself out of it."

Annoyed I rolled my eyes at him and sighed. "Fine! I´m almost seventeen."

"That wasn´t so hard was it?" he asked me with laughter in his voice while I just glared at him. "What do you study in school?"

"What is this? A job interview?" I laughed and twitched as my bruised ribs were objecting. James´s eyes suddenly looked worried as he watched my face. Then he smiled weakly and turned serious.

"I´m just trying to get to know you ... since we don´t know how long we´re going to stay here."

The hunger was the worst. I thought the pain had been bad, but it subsided as the hunger took over completely. It took away all our energy and for the rest of that day, we just sat there feeling sorry for ourselves. Pretty soon we where thirsty again as well. For a while there I actually longed for Denim Guy to come down and save us.

I was so scared. I started to believe that they had decided to just leave us there, until we starved to death. James tried to comfort me with kind words once in a while, but as time went by, he spoke less and less. I felt like crying. Just like I had when I was little, in my moms lap. God, how I longed for her warm arms.

I don´t think either of us were awake when the door opened and someone came down to us. A big hand gently shook my shoulder and I slowly opened my eyes, still half sleeping. It was a young guy in his mid twenties, all skin and bones. He had almost red hair and kind, blue eyes.

"Hey wake up", he whispered to us and James opened his eyes too. James was right away by my side with a protective arm around my shoulder. I found myself leaning closer to him.

"Hey, I´m just bringing you guys some food, all right? Relax. Don´t eat to much to fast, take it slow. Enjoy."

And with that he left us, leaving a basket of bread, fruit and two bottles of water behind. For a while we just sat there, staring at the basket. Then I slowly crawled towards it and grabbed a piece of bread in my hand. I don´t think I´ve ever tasted something as good. How long had it been since I last ate? Soon James sat next to me, chewing down his own piece of bread.

We did as the guy had told us and ate carefully. My stomach growled and told me to eat it all, but I didn´t know when they would give us food again. We had to save and be careful.

After a while we could hear how the door above our heads flew open and how somebody ran down towards us. Before we knew what had happened, Denim Guy was standing before us with a hateful expression on his face. Fear closed my throat making it impossible for me to breath. He took one step towards me and grabbed my hair, pulling me up to my feet. Then he hit me, with his fist, in my face. I fell to the ground but he just pulled me up again and hit me once again.

I was vaguely aware of that James screamed somewhere in the background. As Denim Guy finally let go of my hair I fell to the ground, and watched from there how he hit James, hard, across the face. Then when he was down, he kicked him several times in his side and in his stomach. I tried to reach for him, tried to stand up, but I just couldn´t do it.

Eventualy he was gone and it was just me and James alone again. Both of us were laying on the floor. I could feel the taste of blood in my mouth and I spit some of it out. I cried as I slowly crawled towards James. He wasn´t moving.

I was so scared that he was dead. I was so scared of being left alone. I needed him.

He was laying with his face turned from me so I turned him over. The left part of his face were beginning to swell up again and his lip was cracked. He seemed to be unconsious so I pulled up his head in my lap and stroked the hair out of his face. Then I pulled up his shirt to examine the bruises and swellings from the kicks. They looked scary, but not as bad as my own had looked just a few days earlier.

I cried so much that night. If it was night, it could just as well have been day. There was no way for us to know. James didn´t wake up but I checked his breathing and heartbeat regularly to make sure he was fine. After a couple of hours I pulled the blanket down from the bed and covered him with it.

I wondered what I had done to deserve such a fate. I promised myself, and whichever God was listening, to do better. I would try harder to do good, just if he let me and James survive.