The Trials

Strange Eleven Part 1

Naperville Illinois. A nice suburban town right next to the famous Windy City, Chicago Illinois. It was a bustling area, filled with joy and laughter. The people always had something to look forward to, and a day never went by dull. The chilly cold air during days sent a shiver down your spine, and the thump of your foot hitting the pavement was satisfying. Naperville was a great city; nothing too suspicious, but that changed with five unsuspecting teenagers.

Tula Terrington, daughter of the mayor, was rushing downtown and through the streets with a warm cup of coffee in her hand. After exiting the cozy, homey clothing store. Finale 4, she had noticed the time, claiming that she was late for a meeting with her father. She swirled, and ran around the citizens, and kept on running. Past all of the stores, bakeries, and designer industries. She wrapped the green coat tighter around her. The white shirt she had thrown on was not helping with the freezing weather, which was still decreasing.

She took a few more turns left, and right. Dashing down a few more blocks before spotting the big, white house. Her father had never wanted a mansion so when he won the election for mayor he decided to stay in a nice, smaller house. The walls were chipped around the edges, and the windows were cracked here and there. Overall it wasn't a bad residence. Tula walked up the rock path, pulled out a bronze key from her leather purse, and unlocked the front door. She was instantly greet by the smell of fresh baked cookies, surprising her since her father never baked at this time of day. Turning to the left archway, Tula entered the kitchen and saw her butler, Aiden, standing at the clear marble island. He stood stoic, his face expressionless and bare. She set the coffee down onto the tabletop.

"Is there something wrong, Aiden," she asked.

"Not at all, miss," he replied simply. "Although, a note came in concerning you." He reached a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. Tula grabbed it with her tiny fingers, the pink nails contrasting against the colorless package.

"Is it from father?" she questioned, slitting open the envelope with a flick of her wrist. Her hand grasped the letter, and unfolded it.

"It did not say," he explained. She looked at the paper.

Dear Tula,

We have heard of the past misunderstandings with your father, and have come to a deal. At this moment we have your father incapacitated, and unable to leave. If you wish to see the last bit of your family again I suggest that you come to Marie's Donut shop at exactly 11 pm. No earlier, no less. And do not tell anyone else of this barter, or your dearest dad will not be in one piece once you come to get him. We hope to see you there.

With deepest hope,

Anonymous.

Her eyes widened with every word. Her heart was beating irregularly fast. The mayor was kidnapped, and only she could stop it. Tula's mind was in turmoil; contact the authorities for help and risk her dad being hurt, or endanger herself to rescue him and not drag anybody else into her mess. She ran a hand through her thick brown hair.

"Is something the matter, Ms. Tula?" Aiden said slightly alarmed. The butler didn't do much except for cook, and clean. but he was always there for the young teen when Mr. Terrington wasn't around. He was the father figure she needed at desperate times so seeing her on the verge of tears hurt his heart.

"It's okay, Aiden." Tula felt her hands shaking, and knew she was about to fall into a nervous breakdown. "I-I'll just be in my room." She swiveled on her feet, and fled the scene. Across the hall she ran up the gleaming, wooden stairs and slammed the door behind her once inside the bedroom. The royal purple canopy dressed bed was sat in the middle, and a bay window was placed on the wall next to it. The cream walls felt more comforting, and made her feel secure, but the few pictures she had of her father brought out the awaiting tears. They slid down her cheeks, wetting them, as she flung herself onto the plush covers of her bed. The girl's small plump lips trembled, and her breathing came in short gasps. Even if her father didn't spend the most time with her she still loved him, and the thought of him being in pain just made the girl worry- the tears rolled down even faster.

The forgotten crumpled piece of paper in her hand suddenly made a tiny slash in her palm. Quickly wiping away the rest of the mess on her face she looked back down at the threat note. Thinking over, the request was simple enough, the only problem was why they wanted her downtown. In a donut shop for that matter. Tula might have a lot of things handed to her, but she worked hard for her knowledge. Being a homeschool student meant she set her own hours, and her own courses. With a simple computer, online classes, and notebook and pencils she set to work everyday. Sometimes even the weekends. She knew the school plans would pay off, but at that moment she felt very unsure about her decision. The logical choice that schools always seemed to say was to tell a parental guide, or otherwise known as the authority. They would handle the problem, but the note specifically said not speak of this to anyone.

Groaning she dropped her face back into the plush pillow, thinking of drowning in her worries. After a few seconds she made a move to the tiny cupboard in the left hand corner. Pulling open the door Tula slipped out a sleek, black violin case. Music was a thing to pull her away from the stress of everyday life. She started playing at four, even though her chubby little baby hands couldn't do too much glory. When she had the spare time, Tula would play the instrument for hours. One look at it and she knew she was destined to use it.

Positioning the violin under her chin, and stringing the bow over it she thought of the song. Amazing Grace was a classic. So with her determination, relaxed tension, and fast muscles, she played.

At 10:42 she finally left the safety of her home. Before leaving she had wrapped herself in a brown leather jacket, a blue shirt, and black jeans. The low cut ankle boots on her feet were shockingly warm, and were easy to walk in. Her straight brown hair had been laced into a tight ponytail, two strands of hair framing the sides of her face. Looking both ways on the street, Tula raced across the road, and through the neighborhood.

An eerie silence lay in wake, and the only sound was the click of her boots on the sidewalk. The girl felt her cheeks redden at the dropping temperatures, and hugged her arms close to her. Her hand slid out her phone and checked the time. 10:55. With only a few minutes to spare, she picked up her pace, halfway to the donut shop. Downtown Naperville was normally a local point for many people to travel to, but at this time of night there seemed to be only her walking the streets.

10:59. Standing outside the door, Tula's waiting for the next seconds to pass so the hands will hit eleven and twelve. Her eyes are frantically scanning the area, making sure that no one was going to sneak up on her. She looked down. It was time. Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door, and stepped into the cafe, a small bell sounding into the room. A couple steps in she was having her doubts. Given a bit more time she probably would have left, but as fast as the thought came she heard the door slam behind her making her visibly jump. Cast into darkness apart from the moonlight falling through the windows, Tula started to panic. No hesitation, she jumped to the door and put all her weight on the oak. It wouldn't budge. Tula was trapped inside Marie's donut shop.