His face was cold and hard, not like the face I remembered from my childhood. It was almost as if he was there, yet he wasn't. His face was cold and hard, like ice. "Dad?" I asked. There was no answer and no recognition in his eyes. "If you don't struggle, you won't be killed. If you do, you're dead." my dad said in a monotonous voice. I stayed still and kept my mouth closed. "Was he here to help me or was he here to kill me?" I thought.
Soon after, he zipped my bag back up. I was glad I didn't have to look up into his face anymore. I was worried about my mom and Kile. Wait, what if my mom is just like my dad? What if they aren't even my parents? What if Kile is helping them? What if I'm all alone? I had to stop worrying. "Everything's going to be okay," I thought.
I thought wrong.
I was put down and my bag was unzipped. I was looking into the face of the leader of the Spartans. "Well what do we have here?" he asked in a gravelly voice. I tried to look around and behind him I saw my father. I looked at him with pleading eyes and all I got back was a stone cold look. Futilely, I tried to break free but a knife was held at my throat in return. "This will go one inch deeper into your throat every time you move." he said. I stopped struggling.
I watched the other people. I saw a woman bringing out two other struggling sbags. I wondered who they were. The lady unzipped the first bag. I saw Kile's face. "Don't struggle, don't struggle," I thought. Then I saw my dad unzipping the other bag. It was my mother's face. My father reached down and helped her up. He untied her bindings and took off her gag. "Nice acting, honey." I heard him say.
YOU ARE READING
Haze
Teen FictionWhen Spencer wakes up with a stranger above her bed, she didn't know what to expect. Her life turns upside down as she meets new people and loses them too. She may even fall in love along the way.
