Rules to being kidnapped. . .ps.I recommend you don't try it!

Rules to Being Kidnapped. . .ps. I recommend you don't try it! (14)

                      Alright how do I start this? Let me just begin by telling you all that I was not going to come back to Wattpad. Unfortunately I felt like this was something I had moved on from in my life. So a few months after I posted the last chapter I decided that I would stop coming on and posting. Over the next few months I came back on and attempted to write the next chapter but nothing was really coming to my mind. And now here we are. Some might be asking why I decided to come back. Well just today I was sitting on my laptop web surfing when I came across Wattpad again by accident (call it fate perhaps). After a long argument with myself about if I should log on or not, I did and started reading all your comments and messages. So anyone who has sent me a post, comment or message is to thank here. Because if I hadn’t seen so many people posting things like. “When is the next chapter, I am dying of suspense!” and “Please come and post soon you inspire me to write.” I felt like if I didn’t return my conscious would physically die. So here I am, returned, ready to write a new chapter even if it kills me.

There are a few things I would like to address before we begin though.

First, 100 thousand reads. It blew my mind. I actually though that I would cry, because for me that is a huge accomplishment. You don’t know how much this means to me. So thank you to anyone who has ever read this.

Second, these chapters are going to be written differently. Over this past year my writing style has defiantly shifted a bit. In my opinion I am a much better writer. Some people will like it, some will not but I will do my best to keep it moderately the same.

And lastly, I have finally come up with a compelling reason as to why Gwen got kidnapped. This being said, I feel like now that I have the main plot formed, I will keep these chapters up.

So I have a goal for myself. Every Tuesday I will make a new chapter. When I get back into the habit of it all, I will post twice a week as well.

Now without anymore prolong, here is the next chapter to Rules to being Kidnapped.

                There was nothing overly impressive about the apartment. Usual, I guessed for a woman living on minimum wage. This was exactly what I supposed Willow was. The small foyer was crowded by an overload of shoes of all shapes. “Are you the only one who lives here?” I found myself asking, only to find Willow had comfortably left me in the doorway. Off somewhere in the house, there was a muffled “yes,” And the noise of clanking kitchen utensils. “Would you like a cup of tea?” Willow asked from down the hall.

“Sure.” I called back, gazing at a worn out picture frame holding an even older photo behind the glass that sat on a ebony table placed underneath an elaborate wall mirror. My appearance was anything to be welcoming into such a neat home.

                The bags under my eyes were a dark shade, almost purple kind of color. Golden strands of my hair were sticking together, a result of the thick rain and sweat that had been clinging to my body the past few hours. Nothing as grimy as the clothes on my skin had ever been worn in my entire life. And I figured, at this moment, that I could never fulfil my dream of going on Survivor.

                Perhaps my intuition was off today. There was no huge sign that there was anything wrong with Willow. Maybe too nice, but besides that point I was sure she could never raise a weapon at me. Or work for crazed psychopathic kidnappers. My thoughts were only confirmed when Willow returned to the hall I had not moved from (out of common courtesy) carrying a wooden tray with a teapot and cheap china decorated in flowers and small orange butterflies. “Come and sit down.”

                The two females took sides opposite of each other in the smallish living room. I sat on a loveseat while she worked on finding her cordless phone. When she did manage to locate its place, it was strangely not working. “Battery must be dead.” She assumed. I assumed the worst.

                “Sorry, I should be going now. I’m sure I could just use the phone at a police station or something.” And rose, intent on getting from this unusual place as fast as I could. Willow rose with me.

                “Oh no, just wait a bit. I put it on the charger, it should be fully charged in about thirty minutes. Enjoy your tea. I could give you some clothes if you want.” Oh how tempting that sounded. But I’m not stupid, I thought to myself. You can’t trick me again. “You are soaking Gwen. That evening rain was not kind to you.”

                Oh how stupid she was, truly. “It’s Amber.” For it was the only name I had given to her. The pair stood silent for a moment, no winning grin was creased into my face, for a gut retching feeling replaced any smug feeling I might have had. “Point one for me.” And Willow sprung at the opportunity.

                The blade wasn’t large. A switchblade, hidden inside her jean pocket. Though I would not try to get in-between the knife and the door. Suicide was not my objective. But to say this all in one sentence, I was utterly fucked. “I’m sorry Gwen, just please sit down nicely.” I wondered what she would do if I screamed. I wondered if anyone would even hear me. In the end, I decided to sit down and wait for whatever fate would bring to me.

                That ‘evening’ rain had washed away any fight I had. And if offered, I might have taken this crazed woman’s clean clothes, perhaps a shower. After the names had been thrown out, no such thing was offered.  “Thank you.” Willow said, returning to her own seat and placing the knife on her lap. She wouldn’t have to use it, I quite enjoyed my skin on my body, and my blood in my veins.

                “Can I ask you why you are keeping me here?” I asked, though the answer was known by both her and I.

                “When I saw you on the street I knew who you were. You know, Ayden has been searching for you all day. I am surprised you managed to slip from his grasp.” There was an urging feeling that these two were closer than business partners. Or…kidnapping partners I supposed. “He was not happy when he phoned.”

                As if that answered my question, I though angrily to myself. “Why did he take me? Why bring me all the way to London and not kill me? Not ask for ransom?” as far as I knew, all the pair of boys had done to me was leave me locked in rooms. No physical harm had really come to me. Not yet, I supposed.

                At this, Willow looked quite surprised. “You mean they haven’t said anything to you yet? Well he always never was direct about anything. He took you because he is trying to protect you.”

Well there it is. Is he good or bad? Or maybe both? :)

Thanks for the read! xoxo Chelephant