Adorably Abducted ✧ Sparklington/SyndiSparklez

m̴͍̪̬͓̙̯̲̯̋̒̍͐͊̐͛͛̽͜͝ͅͅîṅ̸͚͕̰̟̠͛͛͌͆̿̓̎̿̄̓̿̓̇d over matter

"Jordan?" Ingrid whispered to me, as a guard pushed my wheelchair close to the table.

I barley heard her. I felt so numb, so drained.

Sitting here, I was completely protected, and yet, I can still feel those b̶̢̩̮͖̫̩͖̱̝̦̣̣̭͎̌̌̆ͅļ̷̨̜͓̙͓̰͑̍̏̐͂̂͆͝ű̵̧̧̝̜̰͇͙̫̰̞̬̼̺͉̑͛̿͋͗͌͠ͅȇ̵̢͇̈́͋̐̊̂͗͑̑̀͐͘͘͜͠͝ eyes staring at me. I can still feel that ş̷̛̖̲̻̺̿̓̾̽͊̔̂̈́͝͠͝m̷̛̹̤̜͗̍́͋͌̈́̊̈́̔̔͂̓͝͠í̴̦͓̣̝̦̥̤̹̬̻̥͂͋̎̒̕͘r̸̭̙̻̗̮̱͠k̶͉̻̼͠ slapping me across the face.

"Jordan," Ingrid repeated. "Do you need a break?"

Why would I need a break, when I felt nothing? I was supposed to be overwhelmed, I was supposed to be crying.

But I feel none of that.

I feel ņ̴̡͉̺̱̝̣̠̥͎͆́̉̈́͒͗͐̿̒͝ͅờ̵̢̮̱̗̇̋̈́̀̃͝͠ţ̷̛̹̞͚̟̝̠̗̭̱͙̝̖̜̫̏̔̍̋̀̀̿͒̊̇͐̉̌ḥ̷͓͆i̶̡̡̻̻̹̟̗͍̗͎̱̱͖̺͐n̵̛̛̺̰̦͕̣̲̟̣̲̿́̓͑̾̓̐͒̄͘͜͝͠ģ̸̖̫̹̬̝̣͕̝̩̏͂͆̽̈́̊̕̕ͅ.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah..."

"Ms. Mulaney, your evidence please," the judge's voice boomed.

Keeping my gaze locked on the table in front of me, I zoned out anything and everything that was going on. Ingrid left her chair beside me, walking away.

I missed the warmth of her body next to mine. She kept me safe. She acted as a barrier between James and I, and when she left it was like that wall of protection was torn down.

Why did J̷̻͉̗̞̆̀̐͋̽̋̎̋̃̇̈̑̕a̷͎͑́͌̆ḿ̸͕͈̖̬̠̞̝̙͌̇̾͐̀͂e̸̹̤͎͆̾̋͐̄̂̿̈́̀͛͒̎͝s̴͓̖̼̲̓͋̿̚ͅ keep staring at me?

H̸̭̮̮̩̽e̶̛͔͎̲͈̱͆̄͂̉͗̅̂̎͝ should hate me.

But ḧ̶̢̯͉́̃é̵̡̤̙̦̺͍̻̦̤̳̹̭͊́̋̃'̴̡̣̪̘͇̣̘̗͕͎͍̋̈́̓̎̅͗̊̍̅̑̓͘͜s̷̡̙̳̊̀͋̈́̈̈́̓͘ still after me.

H̴̠̳̟͛̒̌̐͆͂͗̂̉͛͝é̵̢̠̩̟̮͙̥̭͈̔̈̈́͊͝͝ͅ'̷̨̡̛̯͚͈͉̪̯̰̳̝͋͊̄̈́͊̈́̍̓́̀̚͝͝ͅš̴͕̖̜̋̈́͊͆̽̄̃̈́͘̕ still alive.

H̴̠̳̟͛̒̌̐͆͂͗̂̉͛͝é̵̢̠̩̟̮͙̥̭͈̔̈̈́͊͝͝ͅ'̷̨̡̛̯͚͈͉̪̯̰̳̝͋͊̄̈́͊̈́̍̓́̀̚͝͝ͅš̴͕̖̜̋̈́͊͆̽̄̃̈́͘̕ still here.

In this room.

In my dreams.

In my m̴͍̪̬͓̙̯̲̯̋̒̍͐͊̐͛͛̽͜͝ͅͅi̵͕̻̥̺̤̤̣̣͚̺͛̊̏͛̃̆͑͂͑͛͌̎͗͜͝ṅ̸͚͕̰̟̠͛͛͌͆̿̓̎̿̄̓̿̓̇ḑ̴̦͇̭̟̝͈͉͓̳̗̬̄͆̑̎͌̈̄̾̐̈́͋͐͗.

"Look at this man," Ingrid's voice raised, as she pointed to a screen. "This man made this video, not to ruin Mr. Hayes' career. He made this video to save his life. This video was a cry for help."

My vision lifted from the table, staring at the projection on the screen. It was my face. This was my video. The video.

"Mr. Maron was found with infected cut wounds on his arms and legs, a burn on his chest, and he was highly malnourished. Do you blame him for seeking help?"

I could feel my face heat up, as everyone simultaneously turned their attention to me.

Ingrid quietly hit the play button, causing everyone in the room to fall silent.

"H-Help me... James is going to kill me."

A strong fire began to burn in my chest. I sounded weak and helpless. I looked so sickly. I was practically a living corpse.

"I don't know where I am, but it's in the middle of nowhere. Just send help,"

I swallowed the gathering saliva in my throat. I knew what words were coming next... I said them. I just didn't realized it sounded or looked like this.

"Please..."

A warm tear strolled down the side of my cheek. I tried to stay strong, but I knew what was coming.

"T-Tom. I love you, so much..."

The tears wouldn't stop now. There's no way to stop them.

"I love you..."

Taking in a shaky breath, an ugly gasp for breath escaped my lips.

I wrapped my arms around myself, in an attempt to calm my cries. Nothing worked.

Why did I deserve this? Why did I deserve the abuse, the sleepless nights, the empty stomach?

What did I do wrong?

"Is it because I was finally happy?" I whispered to the ground. "Is that it? Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"That's all your honor," Ingrid said, returning over to our table. She sat down beside me, her face still stone cold.

"Thirty minute recess, so the jury can make their final decision," the judge announced, banging his gavel.

The shuffle of feet filled the room as everyone filled out.

"Jordan... We can leave now," Ingrid quietly whispered. She stood from her chair, grabbing the handles behind me. "You ready to leave?"

I nodded, giving up any attempt to wipe the tears off my face. There were too many. If I took a breath in, I'd drown.

Ingrid remained silent as she wheeled me towards the aisle.

I looked up from my seat, meeting the same b̶̢̩̮͖̫̩͖̱̝̦̣̣̭͎̌̌̆ͅļ̷̨̜͓̙͓̰͑̍̏̐͂̂͆͝ű̵̧̧̝̜̰͇͙̫̰̞̬̼̺͉̑͛̿͋͗͌͠ͅȇ̵̢͇̈́͋̐̊̂͗͑̑̀͐͘͘͜͠͝ eyes I've already seen today.

"After you," ḧ̶̢̯͉́̃e mumbled, gesturing for us to go forward.

The ş̷̛̖̲̻̺̿̓̾̽͊̔̂̈́͝͠͝m̷̛̹̤̜͗̍́͋͌̈́̊̈́̔̔͂̓͝͠í̴̦͓̣̝̦̥̤̹̬̻̥͂͋̎̒̕͘r̸̭̙̻̗̮̱͠k remained.

Don't let him know he gets to you.

t̷̰̙̜̜̭̭̫̫͖̗͖̞̼̲͓̒̓͐́̌͊͛͒̑̀̄͘̚͝ọ̶̢͉̭̠͖̘̥̬̼͓̼̊̈̓́̑̚͠ǭ̵̝͈̯̟̯̦͙͚͔̩͉͐̊͋͑̓͗̍̀̇̕͜͜ ̸̨̧̤͉̱͓̱̗̰͂̽̒̅͋̔͂͒̒̈l̵̩̣̹̯̘̲͎͖͂͆a̴̗̳̜̻̟̜̺̻̺̪̙͑̏͆̔̒̆̚̚͜t̴̢̧̼̜̻̞̗̬̞̤͈̪͖̝́͘ę̶̬̘͋̈́̿̍͒̅