Thieving Florida

chapter 20

Jessica Morgan Chase

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Where did this all go wrong?

Just a party. That's all that I wanted. I just wanted to celebrate my birthday like a normal teenager. Look where it got me.

In a house that is most likely in the middle of nowhere, locked up for who knows how long, starving and parched. No clue as when I would go home.

I've been here so long, I feel as if I imagined the entire encounter with the man who was keeping me locked up here. Screams and gunshots echo on the walls every once in a while, keeping me from crossing the edge of oblivion and insanity. Sometimes I think I hear foot steps, but no one else has come into the room I was being kept in.

I had shouted until my voice was hoarse for help. It was stupid, no one in this house would help me, at least if it was a gang who occupied it. They're probably laughing at me right now.

I made a noise that was supposed to be a giggle. It really is funny, how pathetic I must sound, shouting for anyone to help me. It's hopeless, I'm not going to get out of here for a long time.

The room I was in was dark, I could tell that even with my blindfold on.

Once again, just as I thought I was about to go insane, I heard shouting come from above me. I had concluded that I was in the basement of wherever I was.

The shouting didn't stop after a couple of minutes like it normally did. It kept going and going, I felt as if it was even getting closer.

Dead silence. The shouting had finally stopped.

Or so I thought.

A door, my door, noisily swung open.

"Get up," I heard an unfamiliar voice growel.

I didn't do anything. I was sure that I was hallucinating.

"Get up!"

I yelped. "I-I can't," I stuttered.

I heard a frustrated groan. "Untie her feet so she can get moving."

Shuffling, and then cold hands were placed on my feet. I wasn't wearing shoes, I realized that at some point when I was thrashing around and stubbed my toe on the wall. Thank god I still had my clothes on.

I felt blood circulate easier in my feet, and I let out an audible sigh of relief. It was short lived though, I was grabbed by the back of my shirt and pulled to my feet.

"Walk forward. Stop when we say. Turn when we say. Try anything funny and I'll slit your throat," someone growled in my ear, and I felt the cool metal of a knife touch my neck. I gulped.

"Yes sir," I mumbled. The knife was removed and soon I was moving my legs forward.

A flight of stairs and two right turns later, I was seated on an uncomfortable wooden chair.

"What do you know about Alexander Hendricks?" A deep voice asked.

"Not much," I mumbled.

"Speak up."

I took a deep breath. My throat felt incredibly scratchy. "Not much. I know that he's stolen things... that's pretty much it."

Silence.

"You don't know about the gang then?"

I shook my head no. It was still a shock to me.

"Well sadly, he's written himself a death wish because he was in a gang," I heard a voice I had only heard once before. My only other encounter with a human here.