Enduring Endearment

Chapter 1

"D...Duncan?"
I state in a groggy state of mind, thinking that name would never be associated with me again. I blink my eyes a few times to make sure I wasn't seeing things, in awe of the man who was towering over me.
"Princess?"
The now revealed voice calls back, looking just as shocked as I did.
Shit.
_______________________________
Dear PDA,                           September 14th, 2018
     Another day, another early morning of working my ass off at Hunter Davidson's LLC. Seriously, did those Attorneys pick the group of lawyers I must work with out of a hat? What a bunch of idiots. I'm going to keep to myself today, as always, and focus on more important things like Content Marketing. The two words that have been driving me absolutely insane for about two months now. Of course I'll be able to make it happen, if the two fools I'm working with don't get in the way. I'll write tomorrow, have to be there early so my ... agh...partners...don't get there first.
Signing off,
Courtney Satella

    I put my PDA down and check the time, an hour and a half until I have to be at the law firm. "Perfect timing Courtney" I say, applauding myself for my brilliant time managing skills. I hum to myself as I get dressed for the day. I put on my black tights, slipping a black pencil skirt over it. I place the skirt slightly above my waist, and proceed to put on my white, button down shirt, looking in the mirror to make sure I tuck it in evenly. I pair this ensemble with a black blazer, and a pair of black heels that make me look about four inches taller. This is what I like to call a person's typical lawyer attire, except I pull it off better than most. I sit by my vanity, examining myself in the mirror as I brush my chestnut hair and apply a little makeup for the day. As I do this, my mind drifts off to a place I never thought I'd acknowledge again, the cast of Total Drama. I practically shudder at the thought, "weird" I mumble to myself. As the thought overwhelms me, I remember when we had to sing about the dream jobs we wanted before we died, as we thought we were going to die in the process of it. If I was a lawyer then I so would of sued Chris McLean's ass for that. Anyway, I wonder if those people ended up pursuing their dream jobs. Considering I was already one step ahead of them as a CIT, everyone knew I was going to as soon as I got off that stupid island anyway. The thought soon vanishes as I finish putting on my makeup and glance at the time again. I get up from my chair, and pick up my bag containing endless files and electronics as I head off to the law firm. The clicking sound of my black heels echo as I step out of the house and on to the driveway. I get in my car and put my bag in the passengers seat, beginning to drive to the place I go every day. Well, maybe six out of the seven days in the week...still I go there a lot! After twenty minutes or so, I park my car at approximately 5:50 a.m, 10 minutes before I have to be there. I smile confidently because of this achievement and step out of my car, hearing my heels click again as I step onto the parking lot. I look up and my eyes widen instantaneously. The view was so intense and unreal that I rubbed my perfectly done up eyes to see if I was dreaming. To my surprise, I was not. A few figures dressed in completely black, begin to walk toward me. I quickly scan the figures, not being able to identify any of them due to their disguises. My heart suddenly begins to pound out of my chest, and I backup, catching myself leaning against my car as if it was going to save me. I use my last possible resort and scream as loud as I can. "Calm down pretty girl, this will only hurt a little" a deep voice says, as he grabs my wrists and forcibly injects a substance that I don't recognize into my arm. I wince from the pain. All my thoughts go haywire, but what I did manage to get straight was, I'm definitely going to die. They proceed to shove me in a human sized body bag, enabling me to see the outside world. I attempt to kick myself out of it, in hopes that maybe the durable black bag would break. I hear a car door open from across the parking lot. For a split second, I thought I was going to be rescued. To my luck, I hear a sadistic chuckle coming from the location instead. The unknown voice states, "Good work gang". My eyebrows raise in response to the voice. What the hell, why does that voice sound so familiar? I question to myself but know there was no time to analyze such a thing. After realizing there was no escape, I felt an emotion I never thought I'd endure, helplessness. I go to my last resort and scream as loud as I can, and that's the last I can remember.