Life As We Know It » jb

Chapter 8

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Brittany’s POV

I was awoken by a surprise slap across my face.

“Wake up, you son of a bitch.”

I yawned.

“Or should I say daughter of a bitch” she snickered at her own pathetic excuse of a joke.

“Good morning to you too, Miranda” I said with a fake smile, “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby, you know, considering I have the nice, soft, extremely comfortable mattress” she laughed, “How about yourself?”

“Oh, you know, pretty well considering I’m still in the chair you idiots have refused to untie me from for God knows how long” I glared at her.

“Well that’s lovely” she smiled at me.

She walked over to the little kitchen area of wherever the hell I was being held.

The only thing I knew about this place is that it’s huge, the smell of salt water is highly evident, and you could sometimes hear a sound such as waves hitting a rocky area.

So I basically came to the conclusion that I was probably in some kind of warehouse or something along or near the beach.

I really think of that as a good observation considering the overwhelming chaffing and pain I have on my wrists and ankles from the stupid ropes preventing me from escaping.

“Hey Miranda” I called and watched her turn to me, “Isn’t it weird that I’m being restrained when you’re the psycho?”

In an instant Miranda was in front of with a sharp knife pressed to my cheek.

“Listen here, little girl” she pressed the knife harder in my cheek, making me wince, “Let’s get this straightened out. I may be crazy but it’s only because of my one true love; Justin Drew Bieber. If it wasn’t for him being blinded by your wicked mother’s pretty, model looking self, Justin would be with me. We’d be living in a big house in the hills of some Caribbean Island with 15 children; 5 adopted and 10 our own.”

I scoffed.

The day my father had 15 children would be the day ever single McDonalds in the world closed down.

Basically never.

“Like that’ll ever happen” I mumbled.

However, I quickly regretted opening my mouth as Miranda delivered an extremely painful slap across my face and then back again.

“Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” she said pointing the knife in my face, pure anger in her words.

I lifted my head up, looking her straight in her eyes, mentally shooting daggers at her.

She lifted her hand up once more behind her head before I closed my eyes, waiting for the slap to come.

I opened my eyes after a minute of the hit not coming.

In front of me was Miranda looking down at the knife in her hand and then her eyes coming back up to meet mine.

She did this twice more before the realization hit me.

Is she really thinking of killing me?

My suspicion was confirmed when she pushed the rope holding my wrist farther up my arm. She then put the knife she was holding to my wrist.