Hostage

7: Memories

"Aubrey! Get down here right now!"

"Coming!" I wake up in a quick rush, running to the bathroom to get ready for the school dance. I had forgotten about it — as usual. I quickly undress and put on my floor-length blue sparkly dress and white heels. Then I quickly put on my makeup: blush, simple blue eyeshadow, mascara, and an eyebrow brush to get them the right shape.

Slowly, I begin to walk down the stairs. I'm feeling a bit nervous, but I'm mostly excited to get on the dance floor and show off a few moves I've been learning.

When I reach the bottom, my date, a boy named Andrew Davies, isn't downstairs, and my parents look very confused.

"What are you wearing?" Mom asks me.

"The dress for the dance," I reply calmly. "It's today, isn't it?"

"No," my brother Jakob replies. "It's tomorrow. You needed to come down here because we want to give you something."

I slowly walk forwards, unsure about what's going to happen.

Mom and Dad are each holding a slip of paper in their hands. I reach out and take both of them. They're both tickets to a Billie Eilish concert; I've been wanting to go to one for two years! And it's later on today!

"What?" I cry out. "Are you serious? I'm going?"

Dad chuckles. "You're going! Go up and change out of that dress. If you really want to impress her, try to dress like her from one of her music videos. Maybe do the 'When the Party's Over' outfit. We leave in fifteen minutes.

I rush upstairs and tear off the dress. I begin to dig into my closet and find white pants and a white T-shirt. I put those on, quickly put on a blue wig, and begin painting black from my eyes to down my neck. I smile at myself; I look fantastic. 

Suddenly, my stomach knots up. I rush to the bathroom and begin throwing up. Then I start to cry because I know I can't attend the concert. Mom rushes in, takes off the wig, and holds my hair back as I continue to empty my stomach.

"Jeremy?" Mom calls. "Come up here please!"

Dad rushes up and sees me. "Oh, gosh. Are you serious? Can we get refunds?"

Mom nods but glares at  him. "Now's not the right time, Jeremy. Drive over there and explain the situation; we need a refund. Okay?"

He nods and leaves the house.

I'm sent to bed, crying myself to sleep and dream of what the concert could possibly be like.

                                                                                       * * *

Pitch-black. Flashes of white everywhere. Everyone's dancing around, including me. Gunshots ring out. People begin to duck. I think it's part of the show; I continue to dance. Someone from behind me holds me still, and another points a gun at my forehead. There's a bang and a flash and everything goes silent.