The door made a sound like a bell as I walked into my local bank.
I looked around the store and got my credit card. The bank is really small, but it does its purpose.
"Name?" The lady at cash register asked as I walked up to her section.
"Yes." I replied.
I gave her my card as I waited for her.
"Thanks." I said. Just as I began to walk out, a few men walked in the store with black hoods on.
I stumbled back a bit, because they pushed passed me. No manners.
One of them, quite skinny but really tall pulled out a gun on the lady that just checked me out. I tried to run out quietly, but a black, bulky man who was watching the door pushed me back inside.
We were the only ones in the bank and this is a quiet, yet harsh neighborhood.
I backed up slowly, trying to hide, but he gripped me up and held me. I stared to cry, scared that I could possibly get hurt.
"Shut the fuck up!" The one with the gun yelled, and pointed it to me. I stopped crying and widened my eyes at the gun.
"And you, hurry the hell up, or I'll pull this trigger on you and get the money myself." some guy yelled to the lady.
This is not surprising to me, because there is a lot of violence here, but it never happened to me.
She handed him the money with fear in her eyes. He shot her anyways, in the chest. There was no question that she would die. The slimmer guy who had just shot her, turned around and took his hoody off, walking towards me.
"Nigga, fuck you doing?" He asked the guy holding me.
"We can't let her go, you know she's gone run to the feds" The man had a deep voice.
I looked at the other guy, who did not speak. They all looked around 20 something, but the guy holding me looked 30.
Uncountable tears fell from my eyes, but I kept quiet, not wanting to get hurt.
"Put her in the back seats, hurry up before we get caught niggas!"
I felt my heart fall into my stomach. back seats?
They dragged me out into the car and tied me up in the back seat of of there dark red van.
Just as they started up the car and drove off, they started talking.
"Man, I ain't the type to kidnap and shit." The one in the passenger seat said.
"Ain't no turning back now, thank your nigga Dom." The driver said, referring to the bulky guy.
There was a silence. It seamed like we were driving forever, or maybe it was just me, being too scared to function.
I heard someone sigh. "What's your name, ma?" He asked.
I ignored.
"Are you fucking deaf? What is your name!" The driver yelled.
"Chill out man." the quieter one mumbled.
"Isabella." I mumbled with tears drowning my eyes.
"Aight, I'm Chris, and this is Drew." the quiet one said, he pointed to the driver, aka the one with the gun. "He's Dom." He pointed to the bulky guy.
"Why you telling that bitch our names?" Drew mumbled, but I could clearly hear him.
"Ain't yo momma teach you not to call a female a bitch?" Chris said. That made Drew mad. Didn't his mama teach him not to kidnap people?
