Tatyana

Chapter 3

Hey guys! So it's been a loooong while since I last updated my story, but here it is! Don't forget to vote and comment! O:<

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Tatyana slowly opened her eyes and immediately felt groggy. She struggled to get up and groaned in the process, making a muffled sound. Her mouth was gagged with an old sock. The first thought that came to her mind was Ew! A dirty sock?! How disgusting.

Then, her head snapped to attention as she realized what had happened. She'd been kidnapped. She tried to move her arms and legs, but they were tied together, bound very tightly. She felt scared. What if no one comes looking for me? What if they don’t even care? What if by the time the police arrive, my kidnapper will have killed me by stabbing me repeatedly over and over and ripping – Calm down, Tatyana, she told herself. Think through this. Why would someone want to kidnap me?

She tried to think of possible reasons. Did the homeless guy on the street kidnap me because I didn’t give him money and almost spilled my hot tea over him? One side of her mind said Come on Taty; get real, while the other side said who knows? People do crazy things. Instead of trying to think of reasons why someone would want to kidnap her, she decided to just get a sense of where she was.

She looked around the room and was shocked by what she saw. The room was dark, but only because the light wasn’t on. It wasn’t a normal place to put your victims. The room was huge and rectangular. The walls were covered with newspaper clippings but she couldn’t make out what they were of. The bed wasn’t made and the sheets were strewn all over the floor. She realized that she was in one corner of the room. In the other corner, there was a huge desk and a small, bright light.

Tatyana took in the fact that that she couldn’t just sit in the corner doing nothing. She had to try to find help some way while she had the chance. First, she flipped her bangs out of her face because they were ticking her off. Then, she made a vain attempt at trying to get up. She fell hard on the floor, landing on her bum. For a fancy room, the floor was dusty, hard and dirty. Couldn't her kidnapper at least afford to carpet his floors?

Now that she was sitting properly (as properly as you could sit while you were tied up) she half slid and half crawled, making her way to the desk. It was an agonizingly slow process. She tilted her head up and looked to see sharpies and markers lying on the desk, uncapped, a huge pile of them, covering a paper. There seemed to be a drawing on it from what she could make out because the sharpies had bled through the paper.

She lifted her arms up and tried to pull the paper out but to no avail. The tips of her fingers grasped onto the paper and she pulled at it, but it wouldn't budge. Her fingers slid off the paper. She tried and tried again, and eventually the paper came flying down.

She turned it over and gasped. It was a drawing of her. It was a very good one too, she had to admit. It was right on. From her frizzy bangs right down to the birthmark under her right eye. It was absolutely perfect. She tried to remember if she ever felt like she was being stalked or watched, but she couldn’t. She never felt like that before. But... did she have a stalker? She gulped. Stalkers did scary things…

While she was trying to come up with an idea of how she could protect herself if something happened, she heard voices coming closer and closer to her. Frantically, she scrambled to get back to the original position that she was in, halfway across the room. She made it just in time as the door opened…