The Game

Part 1

I don't remember how I got here. I stumble around in the semi-dark. Where the fuck am I?  If it wasn't for the light from a small window somewhere, I would've crashed into some fucking dresser. Running my hand along the wall, I flick the lights on. God, this room is tiny as hell. Where the fuck is Stanley? Who dares give me a tiny-ass twin bed? Who do these dickwads think they are? I mean, at least it had a bathroom. The door led to a small hallway, but it wouldn't open. My only question about the locked door (LMFAO I'm a little too used to them.) was why the FUCK was there a goddamn CATFLAP at the bottom of the door? Well, that answers my question. What the fuck is going on? Where the hell are my parents? "At least y'all assholes have a good taste in food. I fucking love waffles." I (like a goddamn ant) look through the flap. It's tiny as hell, so looking through wasn't that helpful. But it did let me know I wasn't the only one here. Fucking perverts. Crouching down by the catflap of the door across from me, was some grown-ass adult. After the fucking weird-ass lady left, I got a glimpse through the flap of the door. The kid across was definitely my age. He was clearly crying. Okay, what in the ACTUAL HELL IS HAPPENING?! 

"Don't let him catch you looking. Trust me," this random-ass kid mouths. Him? What? The boy flipped his slot closed. Jesus fucking Christ. I saw this asswipe's fancy black loafers in front of my little food flap. Glamorous. So he can afford Gucci dress shoes for men, but all I get is Eggo's heated-up-in-a-toaster waffles for breakfast? This bitch has professionally painted nails and he was ruining his manicure by trying to claw my damn eyes out. God, I need a nap. At least this bed is comfy. 

Where the actual hell is my fucking bear. I am going to lose it. My room may be small, but at least it's nice. It even has a clock, to taunt me with time passed while I'm locked up by some weirdo, again. Awesome. I even get a closet. Wow. And MY clothes. How the fuck do they have MY GODDAMN CLOTHES. MY FUCKING BEAR. THEY HAVE STANLEY. "Stanley, oh my god, what did they do to you? Your face is smushed! I swear I will rain hell-fire on these bitches. It felt like days before something finally changed. A little note. What a wonderful present. 

"Sorry to tell you, but that boy you saw?  Good luck finding him. He was... entertaining. Wow! I buried the lead! In 72 hours exactly, your door will open. 20 minutes before that, a package will be slipped into your room. You are to wear everything given to you in it. If you do not follow these instructions, well, your mom may end up missing both eyes. Stay safe. Good luck." 

Oh god. That boy. They killed him. They fucking killed him. The note fluttered out of my hands to the ground "Shit. Shit, shit, shit." "Derek," the note read, "I wish I could've met you."  It was written in is his blood. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't breathe. The room is spinning. Why is this happening? I haven't had a panic attacking years. 

I didn't sleep. I only ate the food that was prepackaged, sealed. They couldn't get me that way, I think. I hope. I don't even remember those 72 hours. It's like I didn't breathe once the whole time. I have no clue what I did. Cried, probably. Screamed, is what my soar throat tells me. My hands were bruised. I might've punched the door. I don't remember those days at all. The only thing that brought me back was that stupid fucking flap opening, and a brown parcel being shoved inside. It held a pair of dark blue, almost black, jeans. There was a red shirt with some sort of crest on it. It wasn't one I recognized. While I was unfolding the jeans, a note fluttered to the ground. 

"You have exactly 20 minutes before someone is sent to fetch you. They will slide a blindfold through the flap. You are to put it in. As you can see, I have no issue with removing any problems I have. With that said, behave."

What the hell is wrong with this man. Killing people? Blindfolding minors? What this some sort of trafficking ring, but they made you dress in a prep school uniform? What the actual fuck is going on? I got dressed rather quickly, and then I sat. Staring at that damn clock, hardly breathing. When 19 minutes had passed, the blindfold had been shoved through the slot. I couldn't move. I just looked at it. Shaking. A knock hit the door, sharp, loud. I had to hurry. After I couldn't see, I knocked on the window of the door. Air from the hallway hit me like a shotgun blast. A pair of hands grabbed me and dragged me down a never-ending hallway. Normally, I could count and remember the turns, but my mind was fuzzy. Like someone had wrapped a thick scarf around it and pulled. I couldn't think. 

There was a sound of a large door opening, and I was shoved into some room. The door closed, and someone ripped my blindfold off.