Richard Allen
Normally at this time, 17 year old Richard Allen would be home. Instead, a former peer had a bone to pick with him.
Grant Williams; baseball player, lady magnet, and a six foot tall giant.
Richard Allen; quiet, small, seemingly unattractive, and skinny.
Grant had tied Richard to a metal chair for his own amusement and left him in the
baseball locker room before practice started. Richard heard the Coach giving the Pep Talk, marking the end of practice.
Richard listened as he heard Grant's voice from outside the door. He nervously tapped his feet, the only thing not bound by duct tape and chains.
"Coach told me to let you guys know not to go in there. He said there was a rat problem or something." Richard could hear Grant just outside the door.
It made Richard sick to think that the students on the baseball team were thick enough to believe that; they were so idiotic to listen to anything Grant said.
Richard waited for the door to burst open and for his best friend Garret Williams to come and save him, like he always did. Garret was Grant's twin brother, but was the exact opposite of him. Garret was smart, well-educated, and quiet. He was a closed book with many pages and a heavy lock on it.
He heard the squeak of the locker room door and Grant strode in, looking around for anyone who may have snuck past him.
"Hear that, Allen, half the baseball team thinks you're a rat." Grant laughed rather loudly. His face suddenly straightened, getting serious. "So what's it gonna be?" Grant questioned, circling his target. Richard knew what Grant wanted. He wanted Richard to tell him who was going to win the upcoming baseball game. When Richard refused to answer, Grant glared at him.
"Come on, twerp. I know you know. Garret told me."
Richard's stance faltered. Garret told?
He was silent.
When he refused to answer, Grant leaned down to be eye-level with Richard. Grant jabbed a finger in Richard's chest.
"Listen, Wichard." Grant said in a baby voice. "Garret told me everything." He paused and looked around he vacant locker room, "I know you can see things about the future, you little freak." He snickered. "I also know that nobody's supposed to know. So, unless you want the entire school to find out tomorrow morning, you best tell me who's gonna win."
Richard looked up with a defiant smirk. "As threatening as that sounds- note my sarcasm- I think I'll take my chances." Richard sharpened his eyes into a glare.
Richard would never admit his pain at the moment. For example, the duct tape was cutting off his circulation, the strain that threatened tears, or even the fact that the baseball locker room smelled of sweat and rubber which made Richard only feel worse. Knots pitted in his stomach as fear set in. His hands were tied behind him, which pulled at his shoulders. He rocked back and forth in his chair, attempting to break free.
Grant grabbed the back of the metal chair, still facing the dark-haired teen, to keep him still. He continued to glare at Richard.
"Struggling won't work, Allen." He said, bluntly. Richard looked up with a piercing glare that would send someone running.
