Kidnapped.

"Holy...", was the only word that was able to escape my mouth as we locked our eyes onto the oncoming car. The impact surged me forward as I shut my eyes in fear. I heard the piercing sound of shattering glass, and felt a sharp pain spread over my face, arms, and chest. Strong pulses of red flashed in my eyes, and then everything went black.

A friendly and comforting voice cradled me as I was anxious to know what was going on.

"Awake?", an almost musical voice asked me. It sounded like a boy.

"Uhuh.", I said as my eyes came into focus.

"You've been unconscious for three days.", the boy explained, a smile lingering around the edges of his lips.

He has light brown hair that sweeps across his face and eyes, and dark brown eyes that seem to weaken me. His body is fit, slim. A scar twines around his left arm.

"Three days?", I questioned rhetorically; sitting up. I don't know where I am. This place where I am does not look familiar at all, and neither does the boy.

"Where am I?" I ask the boy, while my curiousity unvoluntarily leaks out.

I looked down at myself. My arms are cut, and my right leg and left arm both seem to hurt badly. Blood has splattered over my clothes. I tear the sheet off of my slim body, and see that my torso and legs are all cut too. They almost look...stabbed. What could have happened?

The boy reaches toward me in a blur. His lips are moving, but I don't hear any words; as the world seems completely silent. I can only hear my heart pounding in my ears; slowly gaining speed. Faster. Faster.

"Skyler?", the boy asks me in a concerned tone. His warm hand touches my shoulder. "Skyler?" As he starts shaking me, my arm emits a piercing sensation, like a sharp pinch. I grab my arm in pain as reality came back to me.

"How do you know my name?!", I yell at the boy in sheer terror, while cradling my arm. Now this is worse. The boy knows me. My name. Possibly everything about me. The fear almost swallowed me whole. Before it could, a small whimper escaped my mouth.

"Please.", I pleaded. I tried to ask more of him, but each time I tried, a small whining from my uncontrollable and oncoming urge to cry escaped instead. "Please."

Suddenly, my sobbing became uncontrollable. I wrapped my arms around my body, in hopes that my constant shaking would stop. I snatched the bloody sheet from where I'd roughly tossed it, and spread it over my legs and torso, suddenly feeling self conscious; as I was wearing short shorts and a skimpy spaghetti strapped shirt.

I backed myself against the wall, cramming my legs against my body. I dropped my head onto my knees, and wrapped my arms around myself, crying into the sheet.

The next look I gave him must have been terrified; as he was a monster to me. He must have known everything about me, and I had no knowledge of him whatsoever.

His face transformed into a mask, as he was obviously hurt by my expression. Maybe I was prejudice. A wave of sorrow suddenly hit me, and I tried to loosen up. To show him that I didn't think that of him, but I couldn't. Because truly, I did.

"What do you need?", the boy asked. His voice suddenly sounded concerned, like he cared. I took a foolish step into his trap; or so I thought.

"I-I want to know.", I stuttered.

"What do you want to know?", he asked me, while brushing a piece of  his beautiful brown hair out of his eyes. 

"What happened to me? To make me like this?", I asked, while pointing to myself to show him what I meant. "Why am I hurt?" 

"You honestly don't remember?", the boy sat up anxiously, twiddling his thumbs in a rythmic pattern. His expression was sorry, but hidden. It was hard to tell specifically how he felt, but I sensed a hint of envy. 

"Not at all."

"You got into a car crash, you and your sister, Brooke.", he explained. 

"Was she alright?", I asked hopefully. I held my hands in fists with anxiety. My sister meant everything in the world to me; as we were not just sisters, but best friends. We'd done everything together since I was born, so her well-being was a very important thing in my life.

"I honestly don't know.", he shrugged simply.

"Why not?", I angrily questioned him. My anxiety of knowing had not recovered, but grown much worse.

"It's kind of hard to explain.", he told me with an uncomfortable smile.

~Well, this was a story that just popped in my head and I truly think that it will turn out brilliantly. This is the first story I have that I actually have full plan for...tell me what you think! Love, xlovexme~