“Let me go back to sleep!” I moaned, my hands going through the motions of shoving my head back under my pillow. All my hands grasped was the concrete ground. Suddenly, I was aware of my aching back and the pains in my neck. Was this a sidewalk? It sure felt like one. I opened my eyes, and everything came flooding back to me. My dad the head of the secret service, the Russian President’s disappearance, my kidnapping as leverage… Stupid Russia… Maybe I was still dreaming. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t be happening.
I looked up and nearly jumped out of my skin. Why was a strange man in white standing over me???
“Come wiz me,” he said in an unfamiliar Russian accent, dragging me up into a sitting position. I pinched myself. No no no no, I thought, freaking out. Calm and collected on the outside, I lay down again, willing myself to fall back asleep and wake up from this terrible dream. The second my eyes closed, I felt a sharp pain in my side. My eyes shot back open for barely a moment before I realized what had happened. There was an arrow in my side, and the strange man held a box in his hands marked ‘tranquilizers.’ The world went black.
My eyes were open. I knew they were, but all I saw was gray. As far as I could see, only gray. My other senses were dull. I couldn’t smell anything distinctive, my thinking was slowed, and all I could hear was muffled voices of Russian men.
“Ve must get ze information out of ze girl. Her fazer is ze head of ze secret service. She must know something.”
“Ah, but ve must remember she is but a child. Vould she know about ze plans of ze United States?”
“Trust me, she knows. Vat vill ve use to get ze information out of her?”
“Ze spiky pillow?”
“Ze spikey pillow.”
What was a spiky pillow? Whatever it was, it did not sound good.
“Ah, ze girl is vaking. Bring her to ze spiky pillow.”
Slowly, my senses returned to me. By now I was thinking well enough to be worried. If a spiky pillow was what it sounded like, I should be more than worried. I should be afraid.
“Ze spiky pillow is exactly what it sounds like, child,” the second man spoke, dragging me onto my feet by my handcuffs.
“Tell us ze information before I put ze spiky pillow under your head. I would gladly vatch you bleed to death. Ze vild dogs vould love ze extra brains.”
“I don’t know anything, I swear!” I shouted, afraid for my life.
“Ah, zats vat you say,” the man cackled. “Enjoy your last moments.”
