Snatched

Capítulo Uno : "Welcome To Utah".

Note: I purposely wrote the chapters in this manner to go with the story. So, please stop telling me it sounds robotic and doesn't flow normally. I am aware given I purposely intended for it to be written this way.

Do you know those days when you wake up and just know you’re going to have a shitty day?

Well, that’s how this dreadful day started.

I kid you not when I say the heavens agreed with me. The weather was a pain in my behind as rain poured heavily down on the LA streets.  I could hear thunder in the distance and, quite frankly, I’m not a huge fan. It scares the absolute heebie jeebies out of me.

To top it all off Mother Nature decided to gift me the ever so wonderful sign that I was not pregnant.

Of course, though, the only action I get is from my Captain America action figure. I have no shame in admitting that.

Yet, that couldn’t even cheer me up without personally draining Steve Rogers with my DNA. That man can rock anything, but I doubt even he can sale the fuck out of it.

 I always wondered why guys couldn’t be the ones to be graced with the beautiful scenery of a red waterfall. Now, I would have to throw away my favorite pajama bottoms with Thor’s hammer all over it. If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m a bit of a comic geek.

I throw my feet over my bed and stretch myself out. I turn to see my bed dealt with some damage as well. Great, now I have to wash those as well. I crumble my sheets together and set them by my door before heading into my restroom.

I strip myself of my clothes and hop into the shower. Once I am done and changed into fresh clothes, I head downstairs.

Usually, I would be heading to school by now, but thank Asgard I’m an official high school graduate since yesterday evening.  Yes, I am officially done with that hell hole. I would have rather been in Svartalfheim than anywhere near breathing distance of that wretched building that imprisoned me for four years. Don’t get me wrong, I  still managed to rank No. 8 out of 579 students in my class. That, however, did not mean I enjoyed going there.

I felt like a lost soul. I no longer had a set routine or any purpose for the rest of the day. Is this how hobos felt? If so, I sympathize them fully.

I hop in my car en route towards the clearing a couple of miles from my home.  My fellow students whom I loved fully – excuse me while I snort – had been turning it up since last night as a last fiesta despite the weather. Idiots.  

You best believe I had my camera and an extra set of batteries ready to record their absurdities. I feel no guilt. I’m pretty sure I can ring up a blockbuster better than Project X with the amount of  embarrassing clips I have gathered over the course of my high school years.

As I approach the setting, cars begin to block the road. I’d say there is about a good half mile cluttering the road; I now know this is where I must park.

I stop behind another Jeep and set my car into the parking. I grab my bag from the passenger seat and step out onto the gravel.

 I can already see the red cups littered on the ground. Is it so hard to fucking throw your trash away? You lazy pieces of poo. You are destroying the planet we live on, my dear friends.

I pick up the stray pieces of trash as I walk the 880 meters to the center of the field.  

I stop at some point as I reach under a car to reach an empty bag of chips. I struggle to reach it, so I set the cups aside and fully throw myself on the ground. What can I say other than I like to get down and dirty?