Amelia Alert

Chapter 1: Taken

"Thanks, Mr. Esposito, this is great. I really don't want to have to take Econ next year. I mean, I wouldn't even have the room for it in my schedule," I say to my counselor as he hands me my schedule for the next school year.

"No problem, Amelia," he says with a small smile.

 I smile back and walk out of his office. Two girls give me nasty looks as I go. I groan, majority of the girls at this school have a gross crush on Mr. Esposito and snap at every other girl who even looks at him. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less about anything that doesn't concern getting the hell out of high school as soon as possible. I just want to get out of this town, really.

 I walk out of the main office, putting my earphones in and humming along to Nightingale by Demi Lovato.

“Can you be my Nightingale? Sing to me I know you're there. You could be my sanity, bring me peace, sing me to sleep. Say you'll be my Nightingale.”

 The words sound in my ear as I walk along the pavement. Hm. How odd is it that I am just now realizing that I have never been in love? Not once. Sure, I’ve had a number of relationships, but never have I spoken those words: I love you. I suppose that I was just not meant for that kind of stuff. Love and whatnot.

Whoa. How easily just walking can get you reviewing big parts of your life.

“Hey, Amelia!” shouts a familiar (and frightening) voice.

I stop and turn to see none other than my ex-best friend, Sarah, “Hi?”

She looks me over and gives a scoff, “You’ll be alone all your life with a wardrobe like that. I, on the other hand, even got Mr. Esposito to give me a smile,” she winks.

I roll my eyes, “Good for you, Sarah.” Good for you for being a slut.

“Yeah, well I-“ she stops talking and her mouth drops and her eyes widen.

I raise an eyebrow. Odd. She doesn’t usually shut up for this long.

“Sarah?” I question.

 That’s when I hear it. A click. Small and quick. I turn and see a man in a mask, his hand holding a gun to my head.

“Get in the car. Quietly and quickly,” he says huskily.

 A scream is caught in my throat. I can barely speak. But I still manage two words.

“Sarah, run.”

 I hear footsteps retreating quickly and the man in the mask holds the gun above my head, towards who I can only assume is Sarah. I take the opportunity to kick him in the crotch and grab his gun in a hasty motion. I hit him on the back of the neck with the butt of the gun and he falls to the floor. He lay there unconscious and I try to determine what the hell to do next. Only my thoughts are interrupted.

“Ragazza stupida! Salire in vettura!” shouts another man, getting out of the car.

 I gasp at him and then lift the gun so it’s pointing at him. This counts as self-defense right? He looks at the gun, just blinking. Then he bursts out laughing. His loud cackling makes me cringe.

“N-not exactly the reaction I was expecting, but fine. Okay, fine then. Alright,” I say.

I close my eyes and whisper, “I’m sorry,” before pulling the trigger.

 Instead of a loud bang, there’s a small click. I open my eyes to see the man beginning to laugh again.

“What the..?” I say, examining the gun.

 It feels like it’s loaded. Why won’t it shoot?

“The safety. The safety is on, stupid girl,” says the man with a foreign accent.