Nimrah

Gone

---------------------------------------------Chapter 3----------------------------------------------

I woke up bound in the backseat of a car. A piece of cloth had been stuffed in my mouth. But the real shock came when I looked around and saw Chase unconscious beside me. I shut my eyes, pretending to still be asleep whilst I thought generally when someone kidnaps you, they remain conscious… What is this?

One time when I was smaller the entire class was working on some maths problems that I did not understand. In my head I was virtually yelling at the teacher to notice I was confused and to come and help. But I was still rather reserved at that point and didn’t want to draw attention to myself by sticking up my hand. So I continued in my angry thoughts. And suddenly the teacher looked at me and said, “I can hear you Nimrah, there’s no need to shout. I’ll help you in a moment.” The rest of the hushed buzz that drifted through the class fell away and one girl in the front row said, “She never said anything.” I’m not sure who would’ve looked more shocked, the teacher who suddenly thought she was hearing things, or me, for thinking something at someone and them hearing it… But whatever happened back then, tied up in the back of this car, I decided I was going to try it again.

I focused my attention on the black hair boy beside me and in my head I yelled his name.

He groaned slightly. Had he really heard me? Or was it just good timing? I had to check so I tried again. Once more he groaned, loudly.

“Oi, shut up! You’ll wake her,” a voice from the front seat growled. Chase moaned again.

“I said SHUT UP!”

‘Chase? Are you okay?’

Chase turned and looked at me in surprise, his green eyes locked onto my blue eyes.

“You…”

“Shut up!”

‘You can hear me?’ I waited for him to nod before continuing, ‘Are you okay?’

Thoughts flashed through Chase’s head, ‘how the hell does she expect me to reply?’

I almost smiled before remembering I wasn’t meant to be moving, after all, front seat guy still thought I was asleep. ‘I heard that.’

He looked at me and I opened my eye just enough to see him making an ‘o’ with his mouth. Then his expression darkened, ‘Oh. Why do you care? I got you into this situation.’

I really don’t know why I cared, but for some reason I did, ‘Was it intentional?’

He was biting his lip, a deep set frown on his forehead, ‘Uh… well yes and no. Yes you were meant to come with me to this guy. No, you weren’t meant to be tied up in the back of a car. Yes, I did mean to knock you out if you didn’t come easily. No, I wasn’t meant to also be knocked out.’

So this situation was his fault but not his intention. Should I be mad? Probably, he did kind of tranquilize me after all. So why do I only feel concern?

‘Well, untie me then,’ I thought.

‘I can’t. He’ll know if I try and if I do he’ll knock me out again.’

‘How?’

‘Don’t worry, but it does hurt so I’d rather not!’

Despite wanting to be free I could understand his point. But I felt as though he somehow owed me now, thanks to, you know, having gotten me in this situation in the first place. So I replied sarcastically, ‘So you’re not okay.’