My Kidnappers

Chapter 4 - I Don't Bite, Princess

   To say I was bored, tired, scared and completely and utterly confused would be the understatement of the century. I was beyond all of those things, and most importantly; I was pissed. I mean, what right do these people -- if I can even refer to them as people -- have to kidnap me? Stuffing me in a cellar was one thing, but watching me sleep and perving on me was an entirely different story. I don't give a flying crap if they're almost spitting images of young Brad Pitt, they were soul less monsters.

I was going on day three in this small room. My hair was dripping with grease -- so much I'm almost positive you could cook burgers with a side of fries on it. Also, I'm pretty sure my face was pale and puffy from the amount of crying and begging I'd been doing. I hadn't tried to escape because we all know last time didn't work out so well, plus the fact my wrists had become impossible to use without an excruciating pain shooting up my arm and hand. 

The only thing I wanted was to get out of this wretched place. Sadly, i wasn'tso fortunate.

Why can't my kidnappers be nice vampires? Why can't they be like Edward Cullen, or Stefan Salvatore? Hell, I'd take a Damon over them anyday. At least he'd kill me instead of keeping me hostage for no reason.

Sadly, life wasn't a teen drama. It was life, and life was hell at the moment.

It was hard to find anything nice to say about these -- whatever they are. All I know is the fact they're blood sucking delusional physchopathic assholes who kidnapped me without a reason -- nor a shit -- to give. And here I was, the worm hanging on the hook, just waiting for the fish to gobble me up.

The most sleep I'd gotten since I'd been trapped in this room -- 3 days to be exact -- was when I was first thrown in here. Since then, I'd been too scared of being perved on to even shut my eyes.  

My eyes wandered over the fairly small room, it was slightly cramped considering the bed was half as big as it. The rest of the room was accompanied by dark oak wood furniture that contrasted from the beige colored walls, giving it a old -- yet elegant -- theme. The lampshades had a dark coffee shade to them which matched the comforter on the four-poster bed I was currently sitting on. I was in the lap of luxury, yet I felt like I was in a jail cell.

Oh, and to top it off, my bladder was on the verge of exploding.

My eyes locked their gaze on the bedroom door and I hoped that it would magically open. But unfortunately I wasn't a magical person, therefor the wooden door stood firm in it's place. So instead, I crossed my right leg over my left and rocked back and forth in hopes the urge would vanish.

After several long minutes of holding it, I realized it wasn't going away any time soon. Swinging my legs off of the bed, I placed my feet flat on the ground, and pushed off the bed with the bottom of my forearms. I gulped as I advanced towards the door, stopping in front of it. I inhaled a deep breath and lifted my elbows to the door -- ignoring the pain shooting throughmy wrists-- and I started banging them against it, attempting to get my kidnappers attention. 

"For fucks sake," a disgruntled voice finally sounded from outside the door, and beforeIcould comprehend what was happening, the door clicked and flung open, which caused me to stumble a few steps back. After Igregained my balance, my eyes met with annoyed ones.

I pulled my shoulders back, straightening my posture. "I have to urinate." I informed him, trying not to burst into tears at the cold glare he was giving me. A mop of messy brown hair sat on topof his head and his eyes were gazedover, indicating he had be sleeping.

Let's just say if life were a cartoon -- smoke would be coming out of his ears. "All of that," he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. "Because you had to fucking piss?"