Rebellious

7. You Have Got To Be Kidding Me

The first thing I noticed when I started to come round from unconsciousness was the pain.

The second was the smell. It smelt stale and musty in here, where ever here was. I couldn't hear anything but I wouldn't be surprised if there was a marching band playing in here, I'm so out of it.

My head felt like I decided to run it over with a fricken ice-cream truck.

I wouldn't mind an ice-cream now though...

There was a blaring pain in the back of my head. After collecting my thoughts from my foggy memory, I realise that must be where the super from the street hit me. Speaking of which, what happened after that? Where am I? Do I really want to open my eyes and see what situation I'm in?

Ah, screw it. May as well get it over with.

My body was slumped back over something, presumably a chair. I shifted my body, intending to sit up, stand, anything but I found myself being restrained. What the...?

Letting out a grunt from the effort, I slowly opened my eyelids to see what lay beyond... and came up blank. Seriously, a blindfold?!

I feel like I'm in some crappy hostage movie.

It hits me suddenly. What the hell am I rambling about! I've just been kidnapped and bound, brought to somewhere I don't know by a super. I don't know what will happen to me and the only thought I can muster is about a movie?! I've lost it, officially lost it! If I ever get out of this, they're gonna cart me off to a mental institu-

My internal scolding was cut short at the sound of something shifting in the room. I still and listened intently, straining my ears to pick up on any other sounds. Listening for a minute, I heard extremely light footsteps. If there were any other noise in the room I wouldn't have heard, but, with the silence that is only ever experienced when you visit an empty graveyard, you could hear the slight tap of a pair feet hitting the ground.

My panic spiked and heartbeat picked up.

Craaaaap! I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna- nope! Not today. I cannot lose my composure now of all times. I need to stay calm and think of a way to get out of this situation. Alright, time to make up a set of guidelines for a hostage situation.

Rule 1: Don't let them know your scared. Be confident, even if you have to fake it.

Straightening my back as best I could, I sat upright in the chair. My hands were tied behind the back of the chair by my wrists. Wiggling them about, I stretched my fingers uncomfortably and they came in contact with the polished wood of the chair and then my restraints. Rope.

Ridiculously thick rope.

I wanted so badly to groan right now. Apparently, when kidnapping a five foot six chick with the barely-there-strength to open a pickle jar, it is necessary to tie her to an uncomfortable wooden chair with enough rope to pin a fricken dinosaur down with. Because you just never know these days.

Remember kids, gotta play it safe when kidnapping someone. Wink.

Rolling my eyes behind the material of the blindfold, I sat still with a huff. Waiting patiently like a good little captive for whoever was watching me, I soon learned that the dude was going to just sit there and creep on me.

"Look, mate. If you're just going about knocking people out and scaring the absolute shite out of them, you're doing great! Hah hah. See, I'm laughing. Great joke. Now let me go." I sarcastically remark. I'm waiting for him to flip and slap me or something, but nothing happens. He just keeps quiet.

Oh. Dear. God.

He's as dense as a brick.

Irritated at this imbecile, who happens to be worse at this whole sha-bang than I am, I continue. "Please, if you have a reason, any at all, I'd be happy if you shared it with me. Did I insult your family? Skip you in the McDonalds line?" He still didn't reply. I wonder if he knows what humor is. "Knock, knock."