Kidnap One Shots

Sadie- School

I walk back to my class from the office. Looking down at my new schedule, I smile to myself. I have the same classes, but my eighth period elective changed from Performing Arts to Pottery. I walk with a confidant stride, my side bangs moving in front of my face. I tuck it behind my ear for the third time in the last minute.

I see my language class and hope that she's giving us time to read our books. I'm reading my favorite story of all time right now, but I never seem to find the right time to read it.

Looking inside the classroom, I find that the teacher is randomly pairing students up. Being the social butterfly I am, I try to hide and hope she doesn't notice me. I hate being paired up or even when the teacher has us pick groups. I'm always that one student who has to wait for a group of three to be broken up so I have a partner. Then that one person who's my partner ends up hating me because they're not with their best friends.

The worst times are when the teacher tells me to join a group because I was gone or something. Then I'm intruding on a group of best friends and they end up either forcing me to do the work or ignoring me completely. I prefer the latter.

I'm not going to ditch, so hopefully I'm not noticed until the groupings are done. I see that the teacher, Ms. Jackson, is almost finished. I just pray that she does not notice me right when she's done. Then that nightmare of joining a group will become true.

She glances over at me and I fake a smile. However, the second she looks away, I groan. Why do teachers pair students up? Don't they understand that some students have social anxiety? Apparently not, because every single teacher expects all students to be friends with each other.

She continues to group students up and she knows I'm here now. I wait for my dreaded name to be called and the students ignore my presence. I try to hide in the shadows as most of them don't even know my name, let alone know I exist.

I'm yanked back by a strong force. This force pushes an arm in front of my elbow and pulls my own arm behind my back while pressing my head to the side against a gun tip. The other arm is also pressing my arm behind my back and it's holding this gun. "Don't say a word." A shallow, crisp voice creeps into my eardrum and I shudder at the coldness in his voice.

"Where did Sadie go?" I hear Ms. Jackson call out. The man drags my body around a corner in a split second and I comply to keep myself alive. If I make a noise right now, this school would be put in lockdown from the gunshot inflicted into my head. I could stop him from hurting another student, but then I'd be dead. "Sadie?" Ms. Jackson calls into the hallway. His hand moves from my head and presses onto my mouth. The callous on his hand indicates that he's at least in his thirties.

The gun pushes into me even harder, forcing my head to lay against my shoulder. I try to keep my breathing even, and I can smell the rusty aroma waft off his hand into my nostrils. Ms. Jackson's heels step back into class and her class erupts into noise. The groups must be starting. I wish I was forced to join a group now.

I'm sorry for being so selfish, just please let me go into that class. I won't tell anyone this happened, just please let me go. Please.

Since my class is placed by the doors outside, the man drags me outside and a single tear falls down my cheek as I blink. Once we're outside and he sees no one near, I whimper, pleading him to let me go. His grip only tightens on my hand and he cocks his gun. "I said no noise." He whispers, that rigid voice sending shivers down my entire body. He walks me towards the parking lot and he sees a student in view.

His hands fall to his sides in a second. "You say anything and I kill him." He threatens, looking natural and expertly hiding his gun behind his back. We walk right next to the student and I try telling him with my eyes to help me.

"Excuse me." The boy says, not noticing anything wrong with me. Maybe he's acting. Maybe he's pretending not to notice my pleading eyes that are begging for help.

"Excuse us." The man says naturally, his fake voice sounding normal and kind. I don't say anything, knowing that if I do, my voice will crack and I'll break my calm posture. As soon as the high schooler is out of sight, the man reassumes his position of holding the gun to my head and keeping me silenced.

I see him walking quickly to a certain car and I realize that it's by the big Forrest we have behind our school. I see another student parking their car close to us and the man lets go instantly again. He opens the passenger door for me and I get in as if I'm his daughter. Walking around, he watches the student dutifully and I take this chance. It's now or never.

I get out and I sprint into the Forrest, my adrenaline pushing me quicker than I've run before. Tears flow down my cheeks forming a river, and I can hear his heavy footsteps causing earthquakes in the ground. Animals scurry away from me in hopes of not being killed and I'm in the same shoes. I make multiple turns, hoping I can trick him.

Sneaking a look behind me, I notice him farther away. He's coming after me though, and he's gaining speed. I'm praying that he doesn't catch me. Everything happens in a blur and I know the chance of me getting away isn't very much. I look forward; I need to hope that the small chance of me getting out of here is going to happen.

All in an instant. One fallen tree branch has destroyed me. My foot hits the branch and contorts over so that my entire body slams against the ground. I know this is it, but I've got to keep trying. I try to get back up, but my foot is broken. A muffled grunt of pain slips out and I drag myself to a nearby tree. I pull my body up with the tree for support and begin limping away.

A push is enforced against my back and I fall down, my head hitting something hard enough to knock me out. "I know this Forrest like the back of my hand." is the last think I hear.

I wake up with nothing to see. I try to move my hands to take the blindfold away, but they're tied tightly behind my back. His truck bumps around, moving me around the back. He must have a canopy on this thing. I taste dry blood on my mouth and try crawling into a corner for better support.

Then I feel it, agony striking my right foot. I let out a muffled scream and I begin sobbing. Tears shove their way through the blindfold and compete against each other down my cheeks. The realization of my situation hits me like a brick wall and my choked sobs echoes throughout the bed of his truck.

I scream in sorrow. I'm a good person. Why is this happening to me? I take precautions when I walk home, making sure I'm always with a friend. When I work, I'm always just kind enough to customers, never leading them on. I'm a friendly person. I always say please and thank you and I don't try to judge people.

The worst part is, no one at school is even going to notice me being gone. They'll just assume that I'm ditching. The soonest moment of someone registering I'm missing is when I don't go home tonight.

After roughly a half hour, the truck screeches to a halt and I am thrown across the back. I scooch myself backwards with one foot into a corner. I hear the back open and sunlight seeps through the blindfold.

"No! Please don't hurt me! Let me go, please! Please, please, please. Just let me go home." I beg, my words coming out choked and dry in my sobs. I feel a hand grab my arm and I'm heaved out of the bed of the truck. Once I'm out, he places my feet on the ground, causing a searing pain to drive up my right leg. I let out a scream and the man smacks my head with his gun, knocking me out yet again.

When I wake up, I'm in a small filthy room by myself. My hands are untied, the blindfold gone, and my foot has a bandage around it. A bag of ice is placed on it. My hand reaches up to my lip and I trace the dried blood up to my forehead where the rock hit it originally. There's a small skylight, emitting sunlight into the almost empty room. Other than me, lies only a twin bed in the corner with a metal door one would see in a mental hospital.

I close my eyes and bang my head against the wall, another tear falling down my cheek. My hands cover my face and I silently cry into the scratched hands.