Marge Peters is a 15 year old who's life was turned upside down in just one winter evening. When she was walking home from a bakery one fateful she was kidnaped by a masked man. The only thing that was left in the alley was her purse, phone, and a b...
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Hiiiiiiii!!!!!! So I just wanted to first explain something really quick, the first picture above is NOT Marge, it is simply the coat she wears. The boots are also the ones she wears, I was thinking of something a bit different where the jacket had more puff balls and was less sweater like but I think this is the closest thing that I could find sooooooooooo, sorry. Anyways, here's the first chapter, hope you enjoy!!!!!!!! Also I am going to attempt to make each chapter at least 1000 words long, but that means I can only update maybe once a week? Sorry!! Anyways enjoy!!!!!
I am bouncing around the city street trying to catch the white puffy flakes on my quickly drying tongue. The few people who are on the street stare and laugh at the girl in the white coat with a bag from her favorite bakery. They watch the girl who is jumping around the sidewalk, her head back, mouth open, and her black boots with the puff balls leaving foot prints in the thin layer of white snow. I chuckle slightly as I wonder what runs through these strangers minds when they see me, the five year old stuck in a sixteen year olds body. I can see my breath coming out in light, whispy puffs of... Um... Something? I laugh again and continue my jubilant walk home. As I am buoyantly bouncing down the cold streets I trip on a raised area in the sidewalk and fall into an alley. My baked goods slide on the icy ground as I heave a thankful sigh. I am so glad that I had the lady at the bakery wrap them. I try standing but slip when I try getting up from my crouched position, I am constantly being very clumsy, just ask any of my friends... or anyone who knows me or has ever seen me, at all. I try a second time, this attempt with my arms stretched out as if I were balancing on a balance beam. I wobble a little when trying to stand at first but didn't slip again, luckily because I am pretty sure my knees are all bruised. I carefully stumble over to my bag and to collect everything that fell out.
While checking the area for pastries gone rogue, I hear heavy boots crunching the snow. I look to my left and see a hooded man with tight jeans tucked into black combat boots. I wonder if he is cold since he is wearing such light clothes and I, the one in a heavy jacket, am freezing. My parents have always taught me to be kind and give back so I take off my mittens and then start on my scarf. "Sir, are you cold?" I ask as I reach my mittens and scarf out to the man. He keeps on walking towards me. I am getting a little freaked out by the mans quiet nature, maybe he's shy?
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
I set my bag down and pull on my mittens and sling my scarf on my neck but then take it off and put it back in the bag, thinking it might be better so it didn't get dirty or ripped. "Who- who are you?" I query, I couldn't take my eyes off him, scared he was injured or sick.
"Well, my name is Marcus, but you are going to call me Sir from now on, Marge Peters." At this point I am beginning to panic, how on Earth does he know my name? He is getting closer by the second. That's when I notice him pulling something long from behind his back. Contrary to the freezing weather, I am beginning to sweat. I start to think that this guy is not looking for my help.
"Okay Sir, what can I do you for?" I'm struggling to keep my voice steady.
He smirks, like he thinks its funny. I, however, find not one single part of this conversation even the least bit funny.
"I want you to come with me. And, if you come willingly, then you won't get hurt. But if you don't listen than things might get a little... difficult." My eyes widen at the realization, this Marcus dude is trying to kidnap me, I don't want to be kidnaped! Who wants to be kidnaped? I slowly begin to back up. But I am shaking all over, partly from the shivering cold but mostly from the fear of what is going on, so I don't make it three steps before stumbling a bit, but I keep going. "Aww, come on now. Don't make this difficult. I don't want to stain the white snow red. And it would be an awful shame to ruin that pretty little face of yours." I nearly trip from the shock.
I have reached the end of the alleyway, I am stuck between a busy restaurant and an abandoned warehouse, there are quite a few of them around town, and in the suburbs. My hands instinctively shoot up, I have seen people who are about to be arrested or shot in movies put up there hands in defense.
"P-please, I don't want trouble. Just, um, oh my purse is in that bag, my mom always makes me carry extra money for emergencies," I point to the bakery bag. He laughs. His laugh is like ice, it is deep and unfriendly. I wince, this man is really starting to give me the creeps.
"I don't want your money, or your baked goods, either. I want you to come on a little drive with me," he is continuously getting closer, so much so that I can smell his cologne. The smell is so pungent that it nearly makes me gag.
''Okay, okay. I-I'll come with you, just please, don't hurt me," I am tearing up. This man is standing uncomfortably close.
He cracks a cruel smile. "Sorry honey, but you had your chance." With that he raised his hand, revealing a metal baton, like the kind you see a police man with in movies. (If you can't tell already, I'm really into movies.) I am paralyzed with fear. "This might hurt," he brings the baton down hard on my head.
That is when everything in my life became totally black.
