The Kidnapped Love

Introduction

     As I stood there, holding my cup of freshly brewed coffee, I heard a knock on the door. First, it started as a calm knock, but soon grew to be angrier. The knocker seemed to be irritated. My cup of coffee dropped and fell to the cold, kitchen tiles. My heart stopped. Within an instant, the door slammed open and a man with a scar across his eye crept in. He was tall, muscular, and very scary. His eyes were the color of green grass on the warmest summer day. His head was shaved with tattoos covering every part of it, all above his scar. For some reason, his disgusting mark seemed to be familiar to me though. A thought of death crossed my mind. Was this the future in store for me?

     I ran to the garage trying to escape, but it was too late. There was no time left on my life. His quick attempt to pursue me was a success. His cold, clammy hands grabbed my arm. When I tried to pull away, he threatened me with a kitchen knife that I mistakenly left on the countertop. What a stupid mistake I made, but a mistake as simple as that was not going to save my life. Nothing could.

     I heard the garage door open and close. Then I heard the clicking of high heels from one's foot to the ground. The smell of cigarette smoke turned my stomach. The door that lead to the garage quickly slammed open and a woman, probably in her late thirties, walked in. She was wearing a red dress with a fox fur coat. The man that was holding my arm was quick to greet her presence with an abnormal welcome; a welcome that I didn't understand. A kiss was given to her.

     As their lips locked, I tried once again to escape his grasp. This time I managed to undo my arm from his hand and run to the door. When I opened the door, two men in tuxedos, stood at guard blocking me from my get away. The man, this time, grabbed my hair and pulled me close to him. He held the knife to my neck. I started to tremble with fear. Death was the only thought I had running through my head. With astonishment though, he removed the knife from my neck and released my hair. He grabbed my arm once again.

     It was then easy to see that instant death was not his intentions for me yet. The woman looked at me, laughed, and walked to the door. The man followed behind her with his hand still attached to my bicep. When we walked through the garage door, the two men standing there moved out of the woman's way and followed behind the man and me. The woman opened the garage door and parked next to the driveway was a Ford Expedition. The car was black with dark black tinted windows. It reminded me of an escorting car provided for a president.

     The two men sped up their marching pace, so they could open the car door for the woman. The woman slid in the car seat, then the man and I followed. The two men slammed the door shut and walked back to my home.

     I was sitting in the car surrounded by people, people I have never seen before. The man's scar being so familiar to me gave me chills that went down my back and flowed throughout my entire body. The tattoos all around him are so recognizable, almost as if they have been planted within my mind. My thoughts were interrupted by the instantaneous stop of the car. The woman had her hand out the window while she smoked her cigarette, yelling at the driver to stop being such an idiotic imbecile.

     Not a single word was said between the passengers of the car and me until the man holding my arm finally told me where we were going. "Airport", he said. My heart skipped a beat as he said that single word. Who would have thought the word airport would have so much meaning in one's life? His voice caught me off guard. It didn't seem to match his facial features and body type. It sounded like a young boy's voice as he slowly hit manhood. I pondered in deep thought about where his voice sounded so familiar. I felt as if I knew this man my entire life though he has only spoken one word. I couldn't think of anything besides thoughts about déjà vu.

     The car's driver slammed on the breaks once again and that spoiled woman continued to yell at the poor guy and say he's nothing but a worthless ass. She did crack a little joke though by asking him if he had gotten his license to drive at a supermarket. That little joke she told though only eased the tension within the car for a short period of time. It soon grew quiet and suspicious again.

     The car came to a final stop. The driver and man in the front seat turned around and said, "We're here." I wanted to ask "where is here" but I thought it would be best if I kept my mouth shut. The man sitting in the passenger seat opened his door and climbed out of the car. He first opened the door for the woman, then for the man and me. I took a deep breath of relief from the smoke that surrounded me in the car. I was forced to turn around away from the car, and when I saw the first glimpse of my location; it was no surprise to me. "The airport", I said under my breath so no one could hear me. The man tugged on my arm giving me the signal that it was time to go. I know it seems almost unimaginable to cooperate with these people, but what choice did I have? They were obviously trained, and they were much stronger and bigger than I was. I decided not to put up a fight again. The man led me to the airport with the woman in front and the man in the passenger door behind us all. When we reached the doors, they automatically opened. The woman, of course, was first to go through the doors and so on.

     We reached the ticket counter and stopped. The man that was driving rushed in the doors and ran to the counter. Apparently, he was the one to buy the tickets. When he was finished with his purchase, he came back and handed us our tickets. Instead of him handing my ticket to me, he handed it to the man that was still holding my bicep. Every single little action I made seemed to be expected and every response seemed to be planned.

     We walked to the right of the ticket counter towards security. The oddest thing happened. The police didn't make anyone in the group go through the security check. Only I was made to take off my shoes and put my jewelry in a box. Only I was made to walk trough a detector. I grew angry with the police. I had no clue as to why my kidnappers weren't checked. My life could have been saved but of course that was not my intended fate.

     On the other side of the detector, the man with the car waited for my presence. He once again grabbed my arm. We took the elevators upstairs to our designated area. I sat down with the man on one side of me and the driver on the other. We were sitting there shoulder to shoulder. I looked at the driver and noticed a mole behind his ear. He was wearing a jazz hat with a tuxedo. I would consider the man to be very attractive but that mole was doubtful of his almost perfection.

     After waiting for about an hour, they finally called our flight number. I kept waiting for the name of the city that we would be arriving in, but nothing. We headed to the entrance of the plane. As we walked through the tunnel, the man holding my arm stopped for about five seconds. His face told me that he was scared. Was he scared of the plane? Or was it because of the altitude we were going to travel? He looked down at me and then he looked back up and continued.

     When we entered the plane, we found our seats. The woman and the man in the passenger seat got to be seated in first class. The man, driver, and me had to sit in a very, very lower class. After about ten minutes of waiting for the flight to take off, the pilot came on the speaker and greeted us. And then the seatbelt sign came on. The two men beside me and myself fastened our seatbelts and prepared for takeoff.

     I waited, and waited. After about four hours in the plane, I fell asleep. I wish I could say that when I fell asleep, I woke up and I was back at home, but when I woke up, I awakened to the man with the scar beside me. That very moment I doubted God. I doubted that happiness could exist. I doubted everything.