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A Day in the Life

Part 2 of seven

By Terri AllenPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
2

When I start to come too I am being carried over someone’s shoulder with a heavy bag over my head. Without struggling I can feel tight binding on my wrists and ankles. Despite my head pounding I can hear somewhat of a conversation.

“You said you weren’t going to hurt her if I showed you where she lives.” That was Samson’s voice. An unfamiliar voice replies to him.

“Why would you believe that?” Then I hear the sound of a fist hitting flesh and Samson falls to the floor.

“Wait, stop!” There are more sounds of impacts and then Samson is silent. The guy who is carrying me laughs.

“Let's go, we have places to be.” The other person doesn’t reply but they both start walking again.

I try to feel some form of resentment towards Samson as it is his fault I am in this situation but still, he’s my oldest friend and these two strangers might have just left him to die in the street.

I hear the sound of a vehicle unlocking and a door sliding open before I am thrown roughly onto a hard metal floor.

When my body makes contact I am winded and it causes me to grunt.

“Ah, the Princess is awake.” The vehicle gives way under the man's weight as he steps up. Heavy boots clack against the metal flooring as he walks over to me. The bag is lifted roughly off my head, along with some of my hair, and I am looking directly into the blue eyes of my kidnapper. The rest of his face is covered by a woolen balaclava mask but his eyes are squinted to suggest that he is smiling widely. I don’t recognize him from his eyes.

“Time for you to go back to sleep darling.” Then he hits me once again and my head slams against the metal. I don’t get knocked out though but I play dead and he doesn’t put the bag over my head again.

I try to focus and remember the turns. A right, then a left followed by what feels like a roundabout where the van goes to the far right. Another roundabout, a few more turns and then straight for what seems like forever.

I open my eyes without turning my head and look around. There are no windows in the back of the van so I can’t see exactly where we are and I lost track of all the numerous turns. At some point I close my eyes and drift off.

The van comes to a stop and I wake up suddenly forgetting momentarily where I am. I look around in a panic as I hear the driver and passenger side doors open. Quickly I lay my head down again and squeeze my eyes shut, it’s a struggle to relax my eyelids.

The door slides open and the first voice I hear is that of the guy who was beating Samson.

“You didn’t put the bag back over her head?” His voice is gruff and deep, it almost vibrates the air around me and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stick up. I almost recognize the voice but it seems slightly put on.

“I knocked her out, plus she wouldn’t be able to see where we were anyway.” The guy with the deep voice grunts and steps into the van. Do I dare risk opening my eyes?

I open them a millimeter, he is towering above me but his dark silhouette against the low sun makes it hard to see any facial features. I close my eyes again to avoid another bash to my head.

The bag is returned over my head and I am gently picked up and carried bridal style out of the car. I can feel rain on my exposed arms and legs. The weather has taken a turn for the worst but it’s not long before we are back inside a building that smells like mold and fresh paint.

I am sat down on a chair and I am untied. I try to hold my body limply so this person thinks I am still out cold. He binds me to the chair by my ankles and wrists before walking away.

I listen carefully to see if I can hear any movement and after what seems like forever I start to struggle against my restraints. They are tied loosely around my wrists and slowly and quietly I work away at it until I can squeeze my hands free. I immediately reach up to grab the bag off my head and when I lift it up over my eyes I can see where I am.

Sitting in a chair directly in front of me is my ex-boyfriend, Matthew, with a gun in his hand.

“I knew you were awake. I wanted to make you suffer but because you thought you might be able to escape I want to end this quickly.” He shoots the gun and a bullet enters my chest. It just misses my heart but it causes me to start bleeding profusely.

The breath catches in my throat and the death is slow, painful.

The second my heart stops and my vision goes black I see the same neon green digital clock blaring against a black background. This time it reads 5:47PM.

Mystery
2

About the Creator

Terri Allen

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