'Kidnapped'

[AUTHORS NOTE: Hey guys, so I've started on the third chapter of 'Shy Smiles', sorry about the huge delay, I've had some writers block ^^". I'm going to try and finish it soon, meanwhile enjoy the one shot story I had to write for English (WARNING: Some violence)]

 

“Squeak, squeak, squeak” It was all I could hear as I walked the five blocks from school.  I’d stayed back from school, striving to finish my project for the next day. If I didn’t finish I was in a lot of trouble, I’d already had the due date extended. Twice.

I was wearing new shoes, which were the source of the squeaking. The shoes were a gift from my late mother; she claimed the blue on the shoes complimented my eyes. Not that complimenting my eyes would do anything, considering they are always covered by my messy brown hair.

I heard a car behind me and stepped off the road. A white van pulled up beside me and a man rolled down the window.

“Want a lift?” The man asked.

Of course I knew better than to accept a lift from a stranger in a white van.

“No I’m fine thanks.” I replied sharply, picking up the pace.

“Aw, come on, don’t hurt my feelings.”

“No!”

I walked faster, it was an almost jog, but he followed me at the same speed in that stupid white van of his. I began to jog and still he followed. I was soon running even began to sprint, but still he followed me picking up speed whenever I did.

He violently turned in front of me, cutting of my path. I stopped nearly running into the side of the van.

The man got out, his large build blocking most of my view. In his left hand was a crowbar and in his right a large sack. As I neared I smelt him, he stank just like rotting fish and decay.

I screamed and tried to run in the opposite direction, but he grabbed me from behind. I saw his shadow, arm raised about to hit me with the crowbar.

He hit me on the arm, I squealed. Screwing up my eyes I fell to the ground. I refused to let him see me cry. Crying isn’t something 14 year old boys do. I didn’t want to seem weaker than he must think I am.

The man stepped around to the front of me, kicking me in the stomach he laughed. I groaned. Steel toed boots. As I leaned forward I felt the itchy fabric of the sack fall over my head. I panicked almost making a move to get away, but thought better of it after the stab of pain from my stomach. I couldn’t move.

I felt his hand hoist me up and then tip me to the side. I grunted curling into a ball. The road was no soft surface and the rocks scattered around made it no better. I figured he was tying up the bag and was proved right when he picked me up again and I didn’t fall out. Opening my eyes I heard the noise of the vans side door sliding open. Roughly he threw me into the back causing me to close my eyes again. I landed on the arm he hit, which was now throbbing with pain.

I heard him step into the van, I was curious for a moment but soon found out what he was doing. He hit me again, hard too. I gasped the pain was intense, I couldn’t help but to let a few tears slip. After a moment he began to laugh, hitting me with the crowbar and kicking me wherever his feet could reach. 

Eventually the pain was too great and I began to black out. His laughter playing in my head like some kind of sick lullaby.

“Serves you right, Peeta” Were the last words I heard as I became totally unconscious.