Jazz rubbed her head as she slowly opened her eyes. The room was a baby blue and it was completely backwards from what she was used to waking up to. She slowly sat up as a pounding headache throbbed through what felt like every inch of her skull. Movement snapped her out of her confusion as Jazz looked to her left. Lying peacefully beside her was Chandra.
Oh this has GOT to be a bad dream. Jazz thought to herself. How the fuck did I end up here?
Swiftly and silently, Jazz slid out of the bed, grabbed her clothes that was sitting on a chair in the room, and walked out of the room shutting the door with care.
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Jazz stared at the clock in her dashboard desperately wishing that she could turn back the hands of time.
12:48 pm
Christina wasn’t the type to sleep in and she was also a chronic worrier. There was no way she was sleeping which meant no way for Jazz to sneak in unnoticed. Her phone died somewhere between the rendezvous in the bathroom and shot number 12. Once stopped at a red light, Jazz reached in the glove compartment for her car charger but found nothing. She completely forgot that Christina took her charger earlier in the week.
Maybe this is a good thing… I’ll just deal with it when I get in the house. Jazz thought to herself. She impatiently tapped on the steering wheel as she waited for the light to turn green. It would be at least a half hour until she got home. Her mind would race the entire ride.
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Christina frantically walked back and forth throughout the house. She picked things up and put them down for no reason at all. Her mind was racing and there was no way to slow it down. Her wife had been missing all night. It was damn near 1 o’clock and Jazz still hadn’t strolled in the house. This wasn’t like her. Christina’s thought went down south quick. She imagined Jazz in a ditch somewhere with her head banged up against a car window, blood spewing every which way. She shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts. She tried calling again. Maybe Jazz’s phone was on.
The phone went straight to voicemail. Although Jazz’s voice was soothing to hear, it was only a voicemail and Christina so desperately wanted to hear Jazz pick up. She just wanted to tell her she loved her. She just wanted Jazz to hold her again. This was too much to bear. Cop shows always said the first 48 hours of a missing person was critical. Christina was going to have to get the police involved eventually. She would have to offer a reward. She just wanted her wife back.
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Jazz pulled into her neighborhood and prepared herself for the loudest yelling in her ear, the hardest slap, or the longest hug. She knew Christina was worrying but she didn’t know which type of worrying she was in that house doing. Was she angry? Was she scared? Was she annoyed? Jazz took a deep breath, gathered her things and stepped out the car and locked the door.
Almost instantly, a hooded person with a ski mask came from behind a bush and covered Jazz’s head with a dark pillow case. They covered her mouth to stifle the screams and dragged her off into a limo. Once inside the limo, the person handcuffed Jazz’s hands behind her back and tied her feet together. They rifled through her pockets pulling her ID out of her wallet and throwing it out the window before speeding off down the street.
Christina heard the screeching tires and ran outside to find nothing. The street was empty. The birds chirped in the trees as Christina’s world slowly began to crumble. There at her feet was the ID of her best friend, her lover, her wife.
