Taken

Part four

 “Laura, Laura. Over here Laura.” A newspaper reporter shouted at me.

“No, Laura. Over here.” Another responded. I was surrounded by them, trying to get to my dad’s car.

I was right, it was better for me to have given up at the mall instead of carried on running with Oliver. Although I had spent nearly a week being interviewed by different police officers, being asked different questions, I was finally released. The police had said I should try my best to carry on with my life the best I could and should get back into my old routine as soon as possible. I was happy when I walked out the police station with my dad. He was still as I remembered. Tall, thin and smart with short brown hair. Although his grey hairs were starting to show. I had missed him a lot and couldn’t wait to get back into my old routine. But I wasn’t let off that lightly.

I was the talk of the town. Everyone in my neighbourhood knew about my disappearance and at first, thought my dad was the main suspect. He had been taken in and questioned many times since my disappearance. But only I knew the full truth. I was beginning to miss Oliver. It’s hard to believe, but I didn’t want to tell the police about who had kidnapped me.

I was suddenly pushed hard into the back of my dad’s car. He had been hiding me in his jacket while we weaved in and out of the big crowds to try and find his car. My dad had made it clear that I wasn’t ready to give interviews to reporters yet after my first go. They had tried to put words in my head and make it seem worse than it actually was. The truth is, I quite enjoyed being with Oliver.

There was a lot of small talk between me and my dad in the car, so I was happy when we finally pulled up at my house. Nothing had really changed since I had gone. The house was still a dusty grey on the outside, with the grass in need of a good trim. The inside was just as bad. My dad liked simple things, so most of the walls were dull coloured which looks just as out of place as the furniture. My family were never really any good with matching things. So the living room was a whole array of wacky colours.                

I walked up to my bedroom, finding it exactly how I had left it the morning I was taken. My bed was still a mess and the contents of my wardrobe was emptied onto my floor after attempting to find something to wear that morning. It was just like I had never left.

It brought back so many memories of that day. I hadn’t known Oliver that well before then. He had just been a blur in my life, like a painting I never properly looked at. But now I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Sure, it was hard trying not to mention his name in interviews and a part of me felt like it was missing. Gone.

After the day I had, all I wanted to do was shut my eyes and have some me time. I tiptoed around the heap of clothes on the floor and crawled into bed. Little did I know that this was just the start of it all. 

I awoke to a beeping sound, still expecting Oliver to come over and switch off whatever was disturbing my sleep. But he never came. I dragged myself out of bed and downstairs, joining my dad in the kitchen for some breakfast. Since I had come back, I hadn’t really spoken to my dad much. Just the odd small talk about the day or weather. After the first couple of weeks of being back, I had started getting back into my old routine. Although I didn’t have to go back to school yet.

I had been advised to go and see someone and talk about what had happened. So of course, my dad was making me go there twice a week. I insisted I didn’t need it but three weeks into it, and I wasn’t minding the sessions. I just sat staring at the woman for most of the hour, sometimes doodling, and sometimes thinking of Oliver.

My story had soon spread globally. I was recognised everywhere and known as ‘the one that got away’ and everyone I walked past in the street would start whispering to each other. My life was becoming like a soap opera and I was turning into a celebrity. Everyone wanted to know where I was and what I was doing. I even got a phone call one day from a local magazine. They wanted me to write my story and sell it to them.

I was hating all this attention. Going from a quiet, shy girl into a well-known woman was horrible. It made me feel bad knowing that I was now only known for what had happened to me. I don’t know why I keep getting all the attention when there were real sufferers out there that are going unnoticed.

The days started to drag on. I seemed to be doing a different interview each day and everything started becoming too repetitive. I had finally finished my interview with ‘The Sun’ early so decided to catch up on some much needed sleep back at home.

All I know is that I need to find Oliver. He’ll know how to make everything right again, he always does. Oliver knows better than to come and see me, while everyone is still out there looking for him. So I guess there’s only one solution. I’ll start packing in the morning. I know it’s not the best solution, but it’s the only thing that I can think of right now. What’s the worst that could happen...

Oliver’s POV:

The car made a screech as I sped round the corner a little too fast. I’d had to take that guys car. He just left it unlocked, I was doing him a favour really. But now I had to find her, and fast. All I know is that it’s been 6 weeks and I’m missing Laura like crazy. I know I shouldn’t go back, but I really want to. I hate not seeing her, not waking up to her next to me. I don’t know how long I can go on like this.

I’ve never really been that good with directions, so driving from the coast of Italy back to England was going to be a challenge. I mean, I can’t ask for directions because people would recognize me. If I get pulled over I’m in deep shit. I haven’t even though what I’m going to do when I run out of petrol. I can’t survive by stealing people’s cars.

All I can really do is drive and hope I’m going in the right direction. This is one journey I never thought I’d be on. I just want to check that Laura is save and well. She won’t come looking for me because it’s too risky. And right after she’s just got back too. No. It’s best if I go to her.

So I guess this is my crazy plan. I don’t know what to expect really. There will be too many people looking out for her now. I can’t just take her. Unless she willingly comes with me. But even then I’ll get caught. But she’s worth it, right?