Fingerprints

Fourteen- POV Johanna

"Jordan!" I screamed, at the top of my lungs. Well, tried to. The man's hand was roughly cupping my face around my mouth and my jaw. I stretched my arms out for Jordan, but we barely made contact. I saw two more men come out of the white SUV, and they all carelessly shoved me into the back seat after tying my hands behind my back with what felt like a zip tie.

        "Hanna!" I heard, muffled from outside. Two of the men got in the car fast, but one was being held up by Jordan. She was at the passenger side door, trying to rip it out of the man's grip.

        "Let her GO," she demanded, but I heard the desperation in her voice. She was really scared, probably more scared than me. 

        "Jordan!" I cried one last time, knowing if she didn't stop, they might have taken her, too. One of the big men, without warning reached back, and punched me right in the temple, giving me an instant migraine. I winced at the pain, already feeling it start to swell. Jordan and I made eye contact for one last time, and the look in her eyes told me that she was going to find a way to me. And she was going to see me again. But as soon as she gave me the reassuring look, the man elbowed her right in the mouth, and closed the door. I gasped, and swore at the men, and the one beside me in the seat glared at me.

        "What do you want?" I cried. No one answered, they just talked to themselves in a different language. I moved my wrists around, and the tie was tight, the sharp plastic cutting into my skin every time I moved my hands. I knew my actions wouldn't be the smartest, I was still quite drunk at the time, but my adrenaline had sobered me up quite a bit. My vision was slightly fuzzy, but I could see we were heading out of the town. Not having my seat belt on, I put my right foot on the center console of the car, and stepped on it, forcing myself in the front seats of the car. The car would have crashed, and I would be injured, but at least I would be safe from these awful people. I leaped on the driver, and he swerved pretty hard, but regained control quickly. Shit, I thought. The men swore loudly at me, and threw me in the back seat again, then put something across three of his fingers on his right hand, and punching me right in the cheekbone. Brass knuckles.

-

        I jolted awake in a random bed. Must've blacked out from the punch. I thought. At that point, my hands weren't tied behind my back anymore, but one was restrained to the metal headboard of the bed, and the other was free. It was very dim, the only light being from a skylight on the ceiling. It's morning? I raised my free hand to my cheek where I was punched, and immediately winced at the stinging pain radiating from the wound. I felt dried blood, and an imflamed lump. 

        "Where am I?" I whispered to myself, tears welling up in my eyes. And what have I done to deserve this? I sat up in the bed, holding my left hand close to the headboard since It was cuffed to it. The tears in my eyes ran down my face, stinging the wound recently made on my cheekbone. I was so terrified of what was going to happen, I was shaking, and my breathing was ragged. What are they going to do? Torture me? Kill me? Oh, god. Rape me? The thought of rape entered my mind, and I quickly looked down at my clothes. I was still wearing my capri black leggings and Harry's rose print tee shirt. I held the collar of the shirt between my thumb, and the side of my index finger, bringing it to my nose, and inhaling soflty. The smell of Harry made me wish we was there. Words can't descibe how much I missed him, and how much I wanted to see him burst through the door across from me. Another drop ran down my cheeks. 

        "Harry," I whispered, remembering our last encounter at the airport. Just then, the old, metal door squeaked open, and a man came in carrying a thin, small bag. My heart started racing, and I could feel the blood running though my body. He walked over to me, and tucked in his pants, was a gun. My mouth opened, and I let out a pained, scared breath.

        "Who are you?" I whispered.

        "Don't worry about that," he said in a thick, unatractive accent. He took the bag from underneath his arm and unzipped it, taking a needle out. It was filled with an odd, colored liquid. I knew what he was going to do with it, and I was terrified. I didn't know what this liquid was, and I didn't know if it was going to kill me or not.

        "What is that?" I asked, panicked, knees to my chest. He hung his head to the side, glaring at me. I sniffed, and looked innocently up into this foreign man's eyes- my kidnapper.

        "Don't fucking worry about it. Any more questions, Princess?" I looked down, and shook my head softly. My long hair was braided messily to the side, but I didn't braid it. Someone there must have. Probably for some disgusting fucked up reason. The man tapped the needle, and walked over to the side of the coverless bed.

        "Don't make this difficult," he said. I glanced from his eyes to the gun in his belt, and did nothing. He forcefully grabbed my right arm, pulling it towards him. Should I fight, or just let him do what he wants? I saw the gun again, and decided to cooperate, though the fear I was feeling at that moment was almost too much to handle. He wrapped a rag around my arm, and tied it, pulling it tight with his teeth. Then, he found a vein and injected the unknown liquid into my body. It felt warm through my veins, and almost instantly, I felt tired. What was that? I kept thinking over and over. The man left the room without another word to me, and I lied down on the matress, hand still cuffed to the metal loops in the headboard. While laying down for a few minutes, I became extremely dizzy, and tired. My mouth started to get extremely dry, and I could barely keep my eyes open. My fast, panicked breathing turning into slow, long breaths in and out of my nose. All of my body systems felt to slow down, and I didn't know how many more effects the substance I was injected with had. What did they give me? What did they give me?