Fright begins filling itself inside my veins as I realize that someone yanks me with the eyes, shutting them -- my only window to the outer world and pulls me back, towards himself. The grip on my purse loosens as it falls to the floor.
Damn! It had my cell phone!
I try running but am held way too tightly. I try screaming but voice barely escapes my lips. Filled with terror, it is stuck somewhere on its way out. And too scared to move, I don't know what to do. Is it the same guy from the car? What does he want from me? I thought that was--
I find my lips being sealed shut. With some sort of disgusting tape. Gone is the hope of screaming. Broken it is to bits...
A few minutes later and on a clear and sensible analysis, I find two hands holding me from running and another hand sealing my lips. And I realize how I'm being kidnapped by 'some' two people for Lord knows what reason. Because the reason of capturing me could be anything. And what if--what if it is a gang-rape?
Just the thought of it makes me want to pull myself down the abyss.
I don't know why my thoughts are again and again wandering to rape. But I guess it's all because of what happened a few minutes ago. That light trance that I experienced.
And then, a sudden realization occurs. My hands and legs are free. Well, not exactly free. They are in this other guy's grasp but at least I can still use them. I try to push him -- the guy holding my hands. When that doesn't work I try kicking. After all, kicking the bad guy in the groin has always worked, hasn't it? It has always worked in the books and movies, at least.
But it is all too futile. Either he is way too strong or I am way too weak. His hands don't even budge as much as a whole centimeter from their place. And let's just not talk about his legs. I don't even know where they are! It is as if, a moment ago, I had been trying to kick air!
And now, I'm truly, madly, deeply scared. Because I get it. I'm caught.
Fear continues to grip me with each passing microsecond.
Tonight was made to be horrible. First Mr.-Know-It-All ditched me. Then the game my sub-consciousness played on me. And now, this.
Why, oh why, didn't I consider staying back and hanging out with my friends, enjoying our last day here, together? Why, oh why, didn't I consider borrowing an extra key from the reception?
All sorts of ideas regarding what I should have done are coming to me now. But there is no turning back anymore, is there? Time can't be reversed, and there is no use regretting anymore. What I must figure out right now is how to get over this fear and what to do to escape. But my mind is such a haze.
What are they going to do to me?
Another few minutes later, I realize that I have no clue regarding what is happening. And somewhere deep in my heart, I know I don't want to have one either. And then, as if all of a sudden, I feel my legs hanging in air. What exactly is happening to me?
Oh, how I wish I could actually fly out of this guy's grasp.
But then, I feel something solid beneath me. I've been moved. I've been moved? What am I, a hamburger that has been moved from one place to another?
What am I thinking tonight? My thoughts are all weird and ...and I don't know what. They are just so unlike me. Especially in a time of crisis like this. This is so unlinke me to think up of stuff like this.
And then again, I didn't know I was this light-weighted. I try to roll my eyes, but can't. They are shut so tightly that the cloth hurts and itches them. But I can't protest, can I? One doesn't get a choice in the cloth that the kidnapper uses upon her, does she? I try to roll them, once again. But same result.
Yeah, that's right. I can retain my sarcasm even after, or perhaps while being kidnapped as if all of this is normal and happens to every second person every second day.
Sometimes, in life we hallucinate a lot. I think I am doing the same as I feel a strange cold sensation on my waist. What I think feel like fingers of someone's hand can and cannot be so. Can be so because of the way they are moving, fumbling with something. But they surely cannot be someone's fingers. Because they are cold. And well, not just cold, they are very cold.
I know the guy is wearing gloves back from when he first silenced my mouth. And they seemed moderate then. But now, now they are cold. Really cold. So cold that I shiver, despite of various pieces of clothing between us. They are too cold for my thin, summer dress to bear. So cold that my body is beginning to ache from the freeze. And it is driving me crazy!
I sigh, once again cursing myself for wearing a dress today. What if they do something to me? What if that is really their plan? And my thin and short summer dress is going to provide them the perfect way!
His hand is yet under me. I don't understand what he is really doing. He is sort of moving it weirdly. I take this time to find out where exactly they moved me and find myself touching the soft seats of a car.
So, it was the car, where they kept me.
As soon as the guy is done with his fidgeting. He begins to take his hand away when a sudden thought strikes me. I, immediately, take hold of it. His hand, of course. I hold it as tightly as I can. I don't really know why I do that. Or what will a girl whose eyes Md lips have been sealed shut will gain from it. But I've to do something to try and escape.
But there is no point in it. Because no matter how hard I try to maintain my grip, it is just so cold. So, so cold that despite of his glove, I cower back. My hand feels like it has been frozen. I probably didn't even have a point while doing it.
What the hell is this guy? Does he carry ice cubes under his gloves to protect himself from people who try to touch him, or what?
A moment later, I find myself being tied under the grasp of the seat-belt. I presume it to be the seat-belt, of course. There is no other explanation, is there?
And then, as if in punishment to my act, my hands are being tied up. Maybe it had been on their mind all along. Yet, I try resisting, but it is of no use. I try not to co-operate. I push my hands in all different directions.
But then, what more did I expect? The guy is far more stronger than me.
Next, he ties my feet together. Taking precautions, eh?
Once again, like a fool, I try pushing him away only to find myself getting hurt. And then I remember my dress, my brand new dress! At the verge of destruction! Nothing is going right!
Now, I know I'm in a time of crisis and my dress shall be my least priority, right now. But I can't help it. The thought just popped into my head. And it's not like I can pull it out, can I?
I want to scream. Akshat, Shitika, Shanaya, Vishal and Aaransh! Help me please! Where are you all? Why can't you hear my silent pleas? Your friend needs you, guys! Help her in times of crisis, please! Isn't that the oath of friendship? And Mr. Know It All, Where are you? I need you! Please, somebody help! Isn't anybody around here? Can someone not see the kidnap that is going on here?
'Somebody help me!' I want to yell like the guy in VCop 2.
But of course, I can't yell. And yes, I know, it isn't their fault that I'm here. They asked me not to go, anyway. They requested me to spend the last night here with them while everyone goes ojt to enjoy. But I just had to not listen to them, isn't it?
I make a mental note to listen to their opinion every time from now on and try to follow up with the majority. That is, if I get to see a next time.
Oh, how I wish there to be some sort of telepathy system among us. It could have helped me convey my message to them.
If only.
If only I could reach my cell phone. But it's somewhere there. Outside. Fallen on the ground in my purse. And I can't reach there!
Oh, I so hate these men!
I feel a strange sensation near me. It is as if--
I feel them freeing me from the seat belt. Why? I have no clue. It is more worrying to think of what might happen to me.
"Get inside madam!" says a cold voice, with contempt, as someone tries to push me in God-only-knows-what. It is something rough, something itchy, and soon I realize exactly what it is. As a kid, I've played on this thing every time I visited my mom's mother's house.
They are pushing me inside a sack! And this time, I don't resist. Only a fool would try to do that after getting hurt, twice! And so, while I am being pushed and pushed and pushed inside the sack, the thought hits me like a meteorite!
This is what he wanted! He wanted me to get "kidnapped". All this while, all those 15 days, he faked himself, all because he wanted me in the hands of these 'out-of-mind' people, who'll do God-only-knows-what with me! And then, in the end, demand some heavy ransom.
Wow! What a brilliant plan!
But it isn't the ransom that bothers me. My dad is a multi-billionaire. I don't think a few something to save his daughter will bother him. And neither would it have bothered me, had I been in his place and it would have been my sister here.
It's my guy that I am bothered about. He does bother me! And he bothers me real bad. The fact that he faked himself? THAT bothers me!
All this while, he faked himself!
Those 2 weeks, he faked himself!
Those 15 days, he faked himself!
Those 360 hours, he faked himself!
That is why he never actually said that he loved me, because he didn't. He made gestures but the words were never out. And now I know why.
He was in love with this goddamn money! He has been in love with this money ever since I have known him, anyway. He is probably destined to get a huge part of this ransom. Of course, a huge price for my exchange. I will be sold! That too, to someone to who I already belong! To my dad.
We have spent two weeks together, him and me. It is, of course, pretty evident to him that my one-in-a- million-dad loves both of his daughters dearly. And when I say dearly, I actually mean a lot. He knows by now that Papa can do anything, anything for us. And an opportunity grabber like him will certainly use this statement for his own benefit. He probably already has.
Oh, that wretch!
The car begins it's move. The speed is slow. I suppose that's in order to make sure that I don't fall. I won't have any way of preventing my fall in case it comes, right? Or, maybe the driver just likes slow.
I don't even know on what sort of seat I am or how much space is available for me to move in front until I don't fall off. The condition is very uncomfortable. And all these sudden jerks aren't helping either.
Why did they have to put so many of these speed-breakers here? I shall talk to the Government about it. Not that I can. But I shall.
I try fidgeting with my knots. Anything to tell me that I am occupied and trying to escape and am not just lying here, waiting for my fate.
I wanna escape! Please...please Akshat, just stop the car and come and take me away. No, not away, take me home. Let's go home. I don't want to stay here anymore, I want to go home. Akshat, please come, please let's go home.
Oh, how I wish you to know my whereabouts, Akshat!
And I realize that the strong girl in me, the one that I show to everyone that I meet, has finally left me and gone away. The circumstances have finally torn her apart, leaving the 'weaker me' behind.
The weaker me, which is also the vulnerable me. And I can't let anyone see her! And I can't let anyone know that this part of me has begun taking control. I have to bring that strong girl back. I have to rise! I have to show them who I am! I have to! And so, I have to figure out, and concentrate on what to do next.
I am just able to change my thoughts, and produce three lines regarding what is, or what may be happening, when the car comes to an abrupt halt and I receive a bad jerk, moving to and fro in the back seat. My head hits something hard. But I guess it's fine. No damage done. Hopefully!
But what if it isn't because of him? What if he actually is stuck up in some sort of traffic, or shop, or something, and all this is a mere coincident? What if he is innocent?
"Let's get her out!" the same voice that had spoken earlier, speaks with the same measure of contempt.
I turn out to be more scared now, much more than I thought. Oh, this is bad. I'll ruin everything if I'm scared. I have to try to be sensible. But some thoughts, yet don't leave my mind.
Where are they taking me? What will they do to me? Will they burn me?
Unlikely.
Unless they are Vikara's men, my mind adds sarcastically.
Will they sell me? A better option since mister loves money.
But what if I am forced to become an 'escort'? That's a more probable one as it is more logical. Men love sex, and Mr. Know It All loves money.
*****
And the second chapter is here fellas. I hope you all love it. Do leave a comment about what you think. And vote if you like it. Shall wait for your response.
And ooh, don't forget to tell me about how is the cover.
Thanks :)
-Ritika.