I'm Afraid I'm Not Going To Make It

  I'm Afraid I'm Not Going to Make It

I make my way towards my house on the sidewalk away from the school after my three classes. A car pulls over to where I'm walking on the side of the road; it has tinted windows so I can't see inside. I don't think much of it and attempt to keep walking until I hear the doors opening.

Someone from the passenger seat gets out along with someone from the back. They come over to me as I try to run away.

All efforts to run fail, they grab my arms, putting a bag over my head, shoving me in the back. As we start to drive, I attempt to scream, resulting in a hit delivered to the side of my head. "SHUT UP!" a male voice beside me yells; I do as I'm told.

I should have seen this coming. I mean, why else would a car with tinted windows pull over to the side where I'm currently walking, they had the whole road, they could've pulled over somewhere else. I remember when I was a little girl after my dad had left, he had hired someone to kidnap my little brother and me. He said my older sister reminded him too much of our mother, so he didn't want her. Even after that happened, I still don't care too much about paying attention to what could happen until, clearly, it's too late. I think I trust people too much.

They keep driving, it seems like we're moving at a normal speed. Living on these roads since I was born kinda helps in this situation. I also memorized the speed limits when I was learning to drive so I wouldn't mess up. I felt the car turn.

I like to think about random things when I get nervous to distract myself from what's really happening. At the moment, memories from when I was learning to drive are helping.

We're now in a sixty zone, we're probably going to the highway... of course, we are, I'm being kidnapped, where else would we go? I feel a slight turn and we start to go faster, we must be on the highway. I'm sure that was the on-ramp... yup, we're speeding up and we just switched a couple of lanes.

I'm honestly not too scared, there's not much that scares me. I'm a tad nervous. They'll probably think I'm nervous because I tend to stutter a lot. I ask a lot of stupid questions when I'm nervous. I honestly don't know why I'm not scared, I should be, shouldn't I? I'm honestly kinda concerned that I'm not scared. I mean, I'm afraid of walking in the halls. What if my dad sent them again, the people who kidnapped my brother and me? I hope my dad realized I have absolutely nothing to say to him, that bastard of a sperm donor.

We finally stop, it sounds really busy. If my thinking is right, we're at the airport, I could hear planes that seemed really close and it sounds really busy. There's an airport forty-five minutes away from my town, so it would make sense. I hear movement within the car; first, I hear the unbuckling of seat belts, then, people grabbing things, the two front doors open and close, there's movement beside me and what seems like whispering.

The bag that was on my head gets removed and the moment one person does that, another person sticks their hand over my mouth. The person who has their hand over my mouth twists me to look at them.

"Okay, this is how it's going to go. You're going to walk with us through the airport, without a struggle, and listen to everything we tell you to do, you're going to act like we're your friends and family. It will be normal, no one can suspect anything. Is that understood? Before I remove my hand, I need you to agree to this so that we know you won't pull anything, okay?" he demands and I nod my head.

I get turned around, the hand still covering my mouth. It's the person who removed whatever bag that was on my head. "Do we have to threaten you or will you do as you're told?" he asks.