Chapter VIII: The War

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(ANGEL^>)

This chapter is for all of my supporters and sticking to me like glue even when I disappeared. I will try to update more consistently.

-hikori

Chapter VIII- The War Begins~

For about two days, I stayed captive in this room. I wouldn't lie and say that those two days were hell, but it was nothing like the comfort of being in your own home. It was intermediately boredom.

I mean, yes the room was a great deal in size, and a great deal of highly expensive furniture, but it just wasn't home. It was like wearing the same outfit everyday. And soon, it would get old, and worn out, and just won't be as fascinating as before. That's exactly what being in this room felt like.

I sighed, bawling my fist and positioning it to hold up my cheek. All I ever did was stare out this stupid window and hope for an earthquake or something. If it were to be an earthquake, I thought the first day when I was captive here, the building would collapse and I would be free of all the restrictions and trigger happy Italians.

If it were to be that everyone just left the premises for at least twenty minutes so that I could escape, I would be away from here and going home. But, that was the problem.

These people never left their posts and if they did their asses would have to suffer the consequences. I actually had started a tab book on all of the patrollers guarding my room to be exact.

There were at least 8 of them and of the eight were Bobby and Vito. I hadn't saw Chase since our whole ordeal blew up so I hadn't really payed much attention to his whereabouts.

There were at least five hour posts for each of the patrollers, once the first guards five hours were up, someone would come and take his post and when his time was up some other bozo would come and take his post, and so on so forth. 

It was like the surveillance would never divide and always keep multiplying. Those big jerks made escaping a hell of a fight, and there was just no way I would be able to fight them.

" All I know is that this whole prisoner thing needs to kill over already." I sighed, massaging my head with my two hands and taking in slow breaths.

As I sat in the chair at the end of the bed, I began to wonder about my phone. I mean, I hadn't seen that thing since I was brought here and it was honestly starting to bug the hell out of me. Did they pat me down when I was in the car? Did they take it when I was knocked me out? Did I leave it home? I just didn't know where it was.

" Damn!" I cursed, frustrated with my loss of memory. I jumped up from the chair and began pacing the space between the bed an chair. I went along side the bed and ended up at the side of the chair, where I turned around and began walking back along the side of the bed then the side of the chair.

I was actually becoming nervous with the circumstances. I popped my thumb into my mouth and began to nibble on my nail, my left arm curved under my chest as a way to cross my arm while I nibbled on my thumb.

For about a week now I was stuck here. No one would notice me missing except my hellbent landlord that would notice I didn't pay rent. He would raise all hell for his money and maybe when he sees that I'm not home and that I'm not answering my phone he'll think that something is wrong. So then he would have to call the police. Yes, and then I would be out of here and they would all be arrested and-

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