Save Me

Chapter 1

I own the plot line, my characters (excluding one direction and it's songs, names, and affiliates). Please don't sue me :)

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SAVE ME

CHAPTER 1

I gather my blonde hair into a ponytail at the crown of my head. I push a thin black headband onto my hair, tie my sneakers, and then I walk out of my college dorm room. Smelling the crisp October air, I stretch my legs and my arms. I step out of the driveway and start jogging. My 1.5-mile route takes me up quite a few hills, but on a Monday morning, I need something to wake myself up. As I run out of my dorm block, I pass about 3 other complexes of about twenty-five dorm blocks each. I go to a massive university in England, for Photography. I turn around, and pass the teachers' block of houses on the other side of the road. Three steps off that property, I am suddenly on the ground, blinded. A large hand cups my mouth and I struggle to breath. My hands and legs are tied up and I am shoved through a small door. A car door slams shut and I hear an engine rev up as we start to move.

That was 3 weeks ago. Since then, I've been stuck in a car, constantly moving. There is a man with me; Bill Covack. Everyday, he video chats my parents and demands a ransom of three million dollars. My parents don't have that kind of money. From what I have overheard from the video chats, they have started a charity, in my name. It is all over London, and they've earnt half of my ransom. I am hungry, I am tired, but I know the money will come. Hopefully.

"Come." Mr. Covack gestures with one hand and grabs the back of my t-shirt and drags me in front of a backdrop. Behind me is a view of a ratty old basement. A green light flashes on in front of me, and the computer lights up. My dad and my mom run into the cameras view and tears roll down my moms face. "We have the money." My dad states, looking directly at Mr. Covack.

"How? When? Who?" I would jump up and down, but my legs were still tied together. My dad didn't ask any questions, but instead looks at Mr. Covack and says, "We meet at Kings Cross Station, the west entrance. I bring the money, you bring Keira. Tomorrow, 4 p.m."

After a long pause, Mr. Covack says "Deal."

M

I didn't sleep at all that night. Thoughts swirled around my head. Who payed the ransom? Why? I don't have rich parents, I'm never going to be able to find a cure for cancer, I won't stop the apocalypse. The only good thing I'll ever do is take care of my futures kids and family, and take photos. That's not inspiring, or motivational, or helpful to the world at all! I'm almost done with my college degree (photography is a two year course-I'm twenty years old). I soon realise that I look a mess. My mother is going to go crazy. My usually shiny, blonde, straight hair is probably tangled, greasy, and super frizzy. I mean, she'll be happy to see me, at first, but then it will turn into an endless critique. I can imagine her complaining over how I need a shower, the state of my hair, how I'm going to be behind in school and everything that is possibly wrong about me. How she wishes I could've been a model, in front of the camera not behind it. How she wishes I could've been a singer, or a dancer, or an actress. How she wishes she'd gotten a prettier daughter, a better daughter. Anyone but me. I have to face her disappointment everywhere I turn. I chose to live in London and pay my own room and board instead of living with my parents, or specifically, my mother.

When I finally managed to sleep, my dreams were full of troubled and outrageous scenarios that could happen tomorrow.

I wake up the next day in pain. My wrists are sore from the handcuffs, my back hurts from 3 weeks of mattress-less sleeping, and I just want to get home. I want to be able to go home, pick up my camera, and take photos. Maybe some nature shots, and I want to take photos of beautiful things. Anger bubbles inside of me as I start to realise that my dad is just going to take me a let Mr. Covack go. He can't do that! A few minutes of irrational thoughts later, I allow rationality into my head. Obviously, my dad's not just going to allow my kidnapper to have freedom. He'll probably show up late, and bring police with him. He'll barge into Kings Cross as an army, a convoy of men with guns to take my kidnapper away. Then, we wouldn't have to pay ransom, and I could go back to uni without a care on my mind, other than graduating.

4 o'clock comes slowly. It feels like it's going to be weeks until I will be back in my parents arms. At around 3:30 that afternoon, Mr. Covack exits the cab of the truck and jumps into the back. I greet him with a cheery "Hello, Bill. Nice day out, isn't it?"

"I'm going through some rules. We will be at Kings Cross in ten minutes. You will follow all of these. If there is a transgression, the ransom is raised. Rule one: No talking until I am out of the building. Rule two: As soon as you exit the truck, you stay by my side until I have the money and we meet your father. Rule three: If you attempt to run away, you will be shot instantly. Is this clear? The rules start as soon as you exit the truck." He glances to me, waiting for my nod of agreement. I quickly shake my head up and down, indicating that I am ready. My hands go into my pockets. Although they are empty, the feeling of denim to my bare hands is a welcome, familiar and comfortable sentiment. It reminds me of the days I've spent walking back and forth from the park and classes with my roommate, Claire.

My hands, especially as the fall opens up to a chillier winter, always go in my pockets. I do wear gloves, but only in the dead of the winter. In fact, winter is Claire and my favourite season. We love going shopping for cute hat, glove and scarf sets. I have a baby pink set that matches perfectly with my pale skin and light blonde hair. Claire's favourite set is one that matches perfectly with her copper hair-it's dark blue, with purple stripes. The most random thoughts come to me in the ten minutes of wait before arriving at Kings Cross. Mainly, I think about my roommate and best friend. I miss her a lot, as we are hardly ever separated for longer than a week over vacation.

The truck slows considerably. I feel the cab turn, presumably into a parking lot, and stops. The engine shuts off, and the door to the cab opens. Heavy footsteps make their way to the back of the truck. It must be the driver, I think to myself. Mr. Covack is only 80 kilos or so-considerably small for an older man. Taking a guess, I'd say this man is about 150 kilograms. The doors open and I walk to the bright light. Well, if you can call it walking. It's more like I stumbled, tripped and crawled out the door. I never have been the most graceful person. I right myself and stand up, all 170 centimetres of me. My eyes slowly adjust to the light. I want to exclaim and cry out about how good it feels to be outside, but I catch myself, remembering the rules. No talking. No running (BOOM-dead Keira) and no leaving Bill's side. This will be fun.

Bill threads his arm through mine, and we enter the building. He is wearing dark sunglasses, and I see his hair has changed colours from this morning. I take in these changes, and quickly jot them down in my head to remember for later. I glance at the horizon, and see two familiar figures. My dad and mom and stand underneath the WEST ENTRANCE sign. My dad cradles a briefcase in his arms, looking around for anyone suspicious. Bill goes up and taps him on the shoulder. He turns around, and yells, "NOW!"

Dozens of black clothed agents surround me, and when I open my eyes again, I'm reclining in a comfortable seat in a van with tinted windows. I have no idea where my parents or Bill is. Am I with good guys or bad guys?

AUTHORS NOTE:

thanks for reading! xoxo -H