Kidnapped.

Chapter two.

I was sitting in the front seat silently sobbing (as if there is any way to do that) and I would look in the side rear-view and wonder if this was the last time I would ever see my hometown? Was he going to kill Beatrice and I? Would I ever get to see Matt again? Will I ever see my family again? What was going to happen? I was not making the situation any better by thinking of "worse case scenarios", Beatrice and I had to get out, alive. I gripped the door handle and turned around to look at Beatrice who was looking at the car ceiling, tears streaming down her face, I cleared my throat gaining her attention long enough to signal to my hand, and I nodded my head, meaning to roll out of the car. Bea put her fingers around the handle and I opened my door and tried to jump, but once again my seatbelt was restricting me. Our kidnapper immediately slammed on the breaks and pulled over to the shoulder of the road, if he wasn't pissed before, he sure as hell was now.

He got out of the car and I told Beatrice to run. She did not. Our kidnapper slammed her door shut and walked to my door, yanking it open. I looked straight ahead and gulped.

"Let me be clear with you right now," our kidnapper began to talk and I couldn't help but notice a small accent that if I wasn't scared of dying, I would have accused it of being fake, "your friend here tried to run first, and now you. I'm not happy with this, obviously!" He spoke, throwing his hands, "people know damn well that you are gone now, and I can't take you back or let you go. You saw my face and I need new dolls. You are mine." He said, slamming my door shut. He pulled back onto the road and I was almost hoping a car would ram us and give an escape chance, nothing happened. He decided to turn on the radio, and John Denver's "county roads" began playing through the speakers of the car. The tears began to pour from my eyes again, would these country roads ever take me home again?

We turned onto a dirt, dusty road and I began to look around at my new 'environment', and noticed it looked oddly familiar. I knew this place. I'd been here with my aunt Joe a couple summers back for some time away from Mt. Washington. I squirmed in my seat, the seatbelt was cutting into my neck, and Beatrice was asleep. It was dark and I wanted nothing more than to grab the steering wheel and end it, us, or him. He came to an abrupt stop, and got out. I tried jerking my seatbelt with everything I had inside of me, and it was no use. He got back inside the car and began driving North again.

"Nature calls." He spoke, and I was utterly disgusted.

I wanted to cry, scream, kick, punch and curse, but why? It would not help my situation, I was almost sure nothing would at this point. I was praying for Bea to wake up, and I was praying that someone would come find us. Anyone. I began to think again and I found myself asking some questions that I had ever right possible to know the answer to. Did anyone see him grab Beatrice from the parking lot? How long would it take for Bea's family to realize something was wrong and we would not be coming back? When would they contact my family? Did anyone tell Matt and Jake? Would I ever see Matt again? Would Beatrice ever see Jake again? Why did he kidnap us? If and when we make it back, I hope Jameson shoves those damn chicken nuggets up his ass.

We came to a stop again, and he shut the car off. He ever so rudely woke Beatrice up, and by her horrified expression she had realized this was not some nightmare she had the chance to wake up from. This was our own hell and we were living it.

"I will take you one at a time. Do not run, do not hide. One of you will be stuck with me, and if either one of you decide to go for a jog away from me, I will not hesitate at all to kill the other. You both need each other. I will take the one in the back first. I mean what I said."

"She has a name; her name is Beatrice. Call her as she is." I said.

"As you wish." He said, getting out of the driver seat and taking Beatrice inside.

I would not run, because just like he said, I need Beatrice and she needs me in this situation. He would kill her, and do the same to me if he ever found me, which he probably would within a matter of minutes. It's dark and my phone was almost dead. I decided to save the battery for a rainy day, and I decided to call now was not the time.

He returned for me, and the seatbelt was once again a struggle. He reached around in this right front pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, and sliced the belt in half. I went without struggle because I knew that he would kill me on spot. We walked into a small house, that I was familiar with. This was my aunt Joe's vacation home. I would not dare let him know that I knew where we were. I began to fill with small hope that Beatrice and I would make it out alive. Not one of us, but both of us. He threw me in a room with Beatrice, and I couldn't help but cry as I hit the ground. I think this is what wanting to die feels like. I looked around and that small hope returned.

"Bea, I think I know where we are." I began to say.

She lunged at me and put her hand over my mouth, pointing to a small, yet noticeable speaker in the top corner of the room. "Do not say anything yet." She begged.

I settled in the one of the corners of the room and brought my knees to my chest. Beatrice was sobbing in the corner and I wanted to comfort her, but I don't know how because I am literally in the same situation. I felt claustrophobic and I wanted to scream, but that would not help the situation at all. Beatrice turned on her phone and had some service, but not for long before our kidnapper barged in and grabbed it from her hand, smashing it against the wall. I cringed at the sound, knowing that we were a lost cause.

"If you have a phone I suggest you give it to me right now." He spat in my face.

"My boyfriend never gave it back to me." I said, looking him in the eyes.

He began to walk out the door and turned and looked at Beatrice and I, smiling. I wanted to tell him he's disgusting, that he's never going to get away with this, and that perhaps someone was looking for us at this very second, but I knew myself only one of those three things could be true, but as for which one, I was unsure.

"Please, please just let us go!" Beatrice cried.

"But my dear, what would be the fun in that?" He said, closing the door.

I found a small, wooden pencil in the floor and began to make a tally chart on the wall behind me. It was beyond inevitable that we would be here, for a long time.