One Direction - Trapped *Newly Rewritten*

Chapter One - Where It All Began

The wind in my hair; the snow falling down on the sidewalks, creating a wonderland of white. Winter, is obviously here. It happened on a Friday. The school bell rang as normal at exactly three pm, signaling the end of another school day, and the beginning of the weekend. I got pushed and shoved, like normal, as I made my way out of the building through the herd of other anxious school children, desperate to catch their buses on time to make it home. I, on the other hand, took the 'not so normal' method of getting home - walking. I walked, every single day. I walked to school from my house. Then, when school let out, I would walk to the studio in which I danced at every single day of the week. Once dance let out, I would then walk back home, which was an even longer walk. If weather conditions were bad, I had no one to really lean on since I had no friends and all of our neighbors hate my mother because of her bad attitude and her addiction to alcohol. So, unfortunately, since the neighbors look at my mom bad, they look at me the exact same way - which shouldn't be because I obviously did nothing wrong; I'm just her child.

My father died when I was little. It's still a tough subject to talk about, even to this very day. He was just as bad as my mother, except he smoked. When he was alive my mother never dared to lay a finger near even the slightest wine glass, claiming they were 'toxic' and 'mind ruining'. However, once the incident occurred, which resulted in my father's passing, my mother's outlook on that completely changed, using the substance which puts you in a drunken state, drank it all day and night as though it was the only thing in the house. That was her way of coping with the passing of her husband, drinking away the pain; which, in reality, only made life even more of a living Hell. She wasn't the worst parent in the world, but obviously is not in the running for 'World's Best Mom'.

Everyday, she would scream my name from down on the couch to wake me up at the crack of dawn and would make me run out on my own with a stack of money to buy her more alcohol and drugs. She would keep time to see how long I was gone, making sure it was around the same time everyday so she would know I wasn't out screwing around, and she would check to make sure I didn't spend any of the money she gave me on myself, claiming it to be 'her' money and that if I wanted my own money I would have to earn it myself. So, I obviously never got to go out and get new clothes or anything. Having friends over.....never really happened. My mother wanted me all to herself, so unless I was required to go somewhere - like school, I never really got out. I practically begged my mother to allow me to sign up for dance. She said no at first, but when I showed her I had the money to pay for it, thanks to all of the dollars I found lying on the ground as I was doing my daily run for my mother every morning, I was finally able to get out of the house and do stuff other than going and buying drugs. Granted, my life still sucks today, but at least then, my world began to get a little bit brighter - not much, because I still had to come straight home after dance. I couldn't drive, and my mother refused to pick me up, so I had to walk, which I didn't mind; it gave me good exercise. 

I walked up to the edge of a sidewalk and stopped, checking to make sure no cars were coming so I could safely cross the street and walk to dance class. I hesitate stepping out when I see a dark minivan with tinted windows pull out into the street. Should I wait or should I just cross and risk getting run over? I stepped partially out into the street and stopped in case the van planned on speeding through and ignoring my existence. The van pulled up and slowly stopped at the stop sign, and that's when I proceeded to cross the street. Continuing to walk, I notice the van turning right, exactly the way I was going. They pull over as I pretend to bend over and tie my Vans. I sneakily peeped behind me to see what the mystery vehicle behind me was up to, but, because of the tinted windows, I had no such luck finding out whether or not the person or people inside were watching me. A few moments passed until I stood up again and continued walking. To wonder whether or not the van was following me, I purposefully dropped my phone on the sidewalk and pretended I didn't notice until a few seconds later. When I went back to get it, I noticed the van hadn't moved, or, if it did, it didn't move far enough to notice that it had actually moved. 

Taking the normal shortcut that I always took to get to dance required cutting through a narrow abandoned alleyway that never had much lighting. I got about a quarter of the way through the alley before I notice it becoming even darker than it was a second ago. Turning around, I noticed a black van blocking the entrance. That can't possibly be the same van that stopped to let me cross the road..... Could it? Suddenly, a horrid stench filled my nostrils as a cloth was put to my mouth. The hand held it to my mouth as I was being backed up against the brick wall. My world was slowly closing in on me as the sound of whispering and rushed footsteps filled my ears. Before my body finally collapses under the drug, I catch one last familiar whiff - cigarettes..... They're raiding my bag!

"Is she out yet?" A thick Irish voice asks as I begin to feel my legs becoming weak.

"Just about," a strong, yet low British accent replies, and then my body drops to the ground at his feet, "now she is."