Kill or Be Killed: A Story of Unnecessary Space

The Second Kidnapping

     I'm going to start off by letting you know that nobody knows my true identity. The only people on Earth that are an exception are my parents They know me better than I know me, which is why I've decided to start writing in this journal. I'm writing in order to help myself find out who I am. I've been forced to lie about who I am and where I'm from so many times that I've actually lost count. I live with my Grandma now, and she told me that writing could resolve the issue. If anything, at least it will help me focus on the present instead of dwelling in the past. She told me that keeping journal could help me realize my true potential and place the troubles of my earlier life behind me.

    Here's what she told me to write everyday in this journal: 'My name is Tamara Sophia Nguyen. I am the 16 year old daughter of Louis Scott Nguyen and Satomi Naoe. My mother, Satomi Naoe, changed her name to Camille after moving to France and changed her surname to Nguyen after marrying my father. They met while they were both living in France. I was eventually born under a French roof and given the name Tamara Sophia. I was named Tamara after my Croatian great-grandmother and Sophia after the Greek word for wisdom.

I was told by my grandmother that, no matter what, I couldn't lose sight of what is most important in life. When I asked what she meant by that she just looked at me mischeiviously with her dark blue eyes and said, "That is for you to decide on your own accord, my dear." She then left for the kitchen to continue making her famous dumplings for dinner. Now that I think of it, they're probably done by now, and, either way, I have to finish my homework tonight or my teachers will kill me.

                                                                  Signing off, Tamara-Sophia.

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I closed my journal and took a deep, pleasant breath. My lungs filled with the delicate aroma of my grandmother's most delicious meal. The best things in the world to eat after a stressful day are dumplings. Feeling satisfied with my journal entry, I slipped it into my desk drawer, looked over my messy room, and cracked my knuckles.

"Tamaraaaaaaa!" my grandmother sang out.

Finally!

"I'm coming, Grandma!"

As I walked outside of my bedroom I realized that something seemed off. I peered around the wall into the kitchen and the lights weren't on. The smell of dumplings became so strong that it even felt fake. Like someone had created an artificial dumpling perfume and sprayed it everywhere. I walked into the kitchen.
"Grandma? Where did you g-"
Creak
I audibly gasped and bit my lower lip to suppress a frightened squeak. Someone faintly swore at themselves immediately afterwards and I heard it. Turning back around the corner, I saw nothing, but called out anyway.

"Who are you? Come out from your hiding!" I attempted to sound confident, but my voice cracked.

When I realized what was going on, I quietly and quickly ran back to my room. Hurriedly, I packed my new journal and favorite book into my bag. I unlocked the trunk I had hidden under my bed and grabbed my emergency pack from it. It held all of the necessary items to help me survive including first aid and pain killers. I grasped my silver dagger from the bottom of the now empty compartment and threw on my coat and sneakers. I had little to no time left. It was happening again. They were coming for me again. I was lucky I had even any time to prepare at all. I jumped out of my 1 story ranch house and sprinted down the sidewalk. The running gave me time to gather my thoughts. This was what I was worried about since the beginning of all of this. Since the day I turned 13.

The second kidnapping.

I ran for my life, sweat dripping down my forehead and forming on my palms, The handle of my dagger began slipping out of my hand's grip, so I slipped the blade into its sheath I had connected to the inner part of my jacket. I continued to run until I got to the nearest gas station to my house. There I met up with my cousin, Kevin Nguyen. Judging by the look on his face he could tell what was going on. He nodded and placed a can of pepper spray in my hand. We both knew exactly what to do. I raced to the bathroom and took inventory.

My dagger, I thought, First aid, pepper spray, book, journal, pens, meds, necklace, and fake I.D. Great. I knew my time there was limited so I knocked twice on the bathroom wall and heard Kevin knock back. We made that plan up in case this sort of thing were to happen. Locking the door behind me, I jumped out of my second window of the day and continued running.

The sun was covered lightly by a thin blanket of clouds, so although it was bright outside it was still chilly and the ground was soft, cold, and frost-covered. The obviousness of winter nearing made me feel an unpleasant tug toward my gut. At the time November had just begun, and that meant there wasn't much time until November 11th. 11/11. My birthday, but also my Grandfather's death day. I shrugged the sorrow-filled thought to the back of my mind, and on I sprinted.

Night had fallen by the time I had forced myself to take a break. I was in an unfamiliar neighborhood and the streetlights shone on my like those of an interrogation room. Blinding me with their powerful questions. Squinting my eyes and looking at the sky, I attempted to observe the stars for comfort. That action was a mistake. A big mistake that I can never forgive myself for making. In the middle of the night in a dark, unknown neighborhood filled with apathetic and worn down hearts, I broke my promise to myself and to my family that I would not let this happen and that I would be stronger than before. I broke my promises, because there, it happened.

I was caught. Taken. Kidnapped. And this second time was not a failed attempt.

A hand grabbed my hair from out of the darkness and yanked me to the ground. I fell backwards and my head bashed the cement. Spots danced before my eyes and something hit me full force in the gut. I half heartedly cried out, but before I could do anything I drifted helplessly into the dark abyss of sleep.

End of first chapter

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Yo, I'm probably going to update Resting Marshes twice tomorrow or Tuesday to make up for today. I just wanted to put this story out there finally. My sinuses feel like a drainage pipe, so if I messed anything up it's probably because I'm shit today. Thanks for reading though!

Cya✨✨✨