Kidnapped by Vampires? But it's My Time of the Month!

1- Kidnapped

Title: Kidnapped by Vampires? But it's My Time of the Month!

All the songs that are posted with each part relatively or totally reflect what I feel is happening in it. So take a listen! You might even find some new music that you'll start to like!

(AN- This book was started in 2010 and has since been edited as my maturity has increased in my writing. I feel like this book will always be the evidence that I have grown as I feel Lilly changes with me throughout the story. Though it may start out stereotypical, as it progresses it is anything but. I really love stories that deviate from a regular storyline so I decided to write one when I was a junior in highschool. Hope you enjoy! I'm also going to school to be a teacher so I apologize for the delay in updates.)

-----------------------L

"I'm coming!" I yell down at my mother for the sixtieth time.

Gah, I mean you'd think she'd get it after awhile.

"If you don't hurry Lilly, I'm leaving without you and you'll have to walk to school!" My mom yells back.

Yeah, whatever Mom. Yes, I'm 17 (almost 18) and still don't have a car. Apparently after you've failed the driver's test five times you have to wait 6 months. My life right now sucks. I'm currently trying to find a job and my boyfriend just broke up with me for an "older woman." She's 18. Just because she's old enough to legally buy cigarettes and tattoo her body, doesn't mean she's any better than me right? Anyway, back to the whole school thing. I was just putting on my flip flops when I heard something that made my blood run cold. The car engine.

My eyes widen. She wouldn't.

The next thing I know I'm running across the front lawn looking at the tail end of my mom's car as it goes down to the end of the street and then turns out of sight.

Wow. She really did.

The hot Oklahoma sun has already started to take its toll on my pale skin. There is a clear sheen of sweat on my forehead and the clothes I had put on only moments before have started sticking to me.

I really do have to walk.

So I get out my phone, put in my earphones, and start the trek up to my school.

I wonder if this is Department of Human Services worthy.

(One hundred feet later)

"I.........can't..........breathe," I pant as I stumble down the street. "Yes, my mom is definitely getting a visit from DHS."

During this time, I was so wrapped up in my own breathing problems I had not heard the car driving on the road next to me come to a stop. I look over to see an old Monte Carlo idling beside where I have stopped to "rest," AKA, "die." The driver rolls the window down but I still can't see inside due to the glare of the sun in my eyes.

"Do you need a lift?" A deep voice cuts through the thick air. The weight of it causes me to pause then tense up in apprehension.

Due to my current status of "dying from heat exhaustion," I say the first thing that comes to my mind. I reply in a shaky voice, "The only thing you'll be lifting is my fist from your face."

I am answered with a moment of tense silence but then I recieve a reply.

"Its 112 degrees and the middle of August, it's not safe to be walking around in this heat." The voice says with a hint of amusement. Or maybe I'm not thinking straight because the sun is killing me as we speak.

"I realize that, but there is no way in hell I am getting in that car with you," I reply back with as much strength as I can muster.

Suddenly, and at the most inopportune time, my pelvis starts doing something no girl ever wants to be reminded of. Cramping.

"Ah, shoot," I squeak out. My knees hit the ground and I roll over onto my side feeling like someone has just impaled me.

Ever since this "curse" has begun, I've always been plagued by horrible, gut-wrenching cramps that often cause me to be sick to my stomach. They're so bad that prescription pain medicine is my only option. Oh and I might also be having a heat stroke. So while I'm having a little "me time" on the sidewalk, I didn't realize the potential sex offender/axe murderer/male who has no clue of a women's needs, has gotten out of the car.

"Are you okay?" The guy asks, sounding alarmed.

"No, I'm not freaking okay," I say through gritted teeth, "and don't you dare touch me!" I barely get out just before the pain climaxes and I clench my fists in the dried grass growing up out of the cracks in the pavement.

Soft hands brush my face and instantly my mind goes dark.