Sparaline POV

The room was dark. Pitch black. I couldn't move, but maybe that was due to the stuff that was binding me into a seating position. I was sitting down and my arms were in a wierd position as if they were tied behind a chair.

I closed my eyes, trying to remember how I got myself in this situation. It seemed like what happened was a long forgotten dream. And maybe- hopefully- it is.

It was early September and the leaves were still green, even though the temperature never reached past 60 degrees.

I was going for my usual night run at about 6 p.m. in a nearby neighborhood. The sky was hidden by gray dreary clouds, and it was misting.

I was in an especially good mood because I loved it when it misted. It felt magical compared to when it sprinkled or just straight out poured down rain. The mist slowly soaked through my yellow activewear shorts and matching sweater that was slightly unzipped to reveal the top of my sky blue sports bra, and despite the fact it was 50 degrees Fahrenheit I was sweating as if I was in a tropical heat wave.

My run was interrupted by a loud shout.

A man with a long gray beard and a trench coat was lying on the ground, moaning in pain and his body was twitching sporadically.

I had run over to help the man, but when I arrived he was both soundless and motionless.

He looked dead.

I had immediately reached into my pocket for my phone, but found that I didn't have any pockets and therefore did not have my phone in any of my nonexistent pockets.

Dang it, I had thought, I left it at home.

I had yelled out for help, but the neighborhood seemed deserted. I had no idea what to do. Its not like I could just leave the man lying there, could I?

I saw someone walking up the sidewalk across the street.

Now when I think about it the person looked suspicious in a black hoodie and pants, but at the time I was desperate and yelled out to the figure.

The person turned their head, and looked directly at me, and tilted their head to the side.

I'm sure it would have resembled something out of a horror movie, but at the momment all I could think about was the poor man on the ground.

The person just looked at me like that, but didn't come any closer. I turned my back to him, figuring they wouldn't be any help. I focused on the man and tried to find a pulse.

I didn't get the chance because suddenly there was someone's hands on my shoulder.

I looked up and was met face to face with the guy in the hoodie. However, there were no real features to the face.

It resembled the face of a mannequin but was white, yet metallic, and I could see a disfigured version of my face reflected back at me.

A coldness overcame me and I wanted to scream in fear but I couldn't find my voice.

And this was when my world went black

Now, I keep opening my eyes, expecting to see the purple ceiling of my bedroom or the screen of a t.v.  stuck on Disney channel, but each time, everything was black.

"Hello?" I called out wearily, not really expecting an answer. I winced because, when I spoke it sent a sharp pain to my head. Thankfully the pain disappeared as soon as I stopped talking.

My voice also sounded hoarse and felt scratchy when I spoke, as if I had spent hours screaming.

However, like I thought, no one responded. At least I thought there was no one until something bumped into me.

"What is that?" I mumbled, scared, then winced again because the sharp pain attacked my head again.

"Mmm!"

The voice was muffeled, but you could tell it was the gruff and husky voice of a male.

"Who are you?" I asked, more curious than scared. Who the hell knew what I was in this room with? Also the sharp pain that struck me everytime I spoke was becoming more annoying then actually painful.

"Grmph." he said in response.

"What? Can you not talk?" I asked. Then winced.

"Mmm." he responded in a tone that sounded strangely sarcastic.

"Fine. Be that way." This came out as more of whisper because I was tired of my reoccurring headache everytime I spoke.

We sat in silence until I couldn't stand it anymore. I can't stand the quiet. I'm just not a quiet person

"Why is it so dark?"

"Mmmfmmm."

Of course, why did I expect an actual answer?

I felt him bump into me a couple times, and felt his hands move up my side.
My heart suddenly beat faster in fear. Was he trying to feel me up?

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice came out sounding more panicked than I liked.

"Mmmf." I was answered.

I was squirming, trying to get away from his touch, but stopped when there was a light tug on my hair.

"What are you-" I started to ask again, but was greeted with light.

At first I couldn't make out anything aside from white, so I blinked a couple times, and that's when I realized all there was was white.

I was sitting strapped to a thin wooden chair by thick ropes in a room with a white floor, white ceiling and white walls.

I couldn't see any lightbulbs or anything of the such, so I wasn't sure where all of this bright light was coming from, and quite frankly it was burning my eyes.

But where was the guy?

I slowly craned my head so that I could see over my shoulder. I could make out a person and five feet away an open door, that lead to nothing but darkness.

You would think with how bright this room was, you could see out the door a little bit, but no. It's like the light just ends where the dark begins.

The persons back was to me but they had short brown curly hair and a muscular figure that comfimed the person was more than likely a guy, like I had thought.

He wore an expensive looking navy blue collared jacket that squared off his broad shoulders and a pair of tan skinny Jean's and some read sneakers.

His hands were tied tight behind his back, but he held a blindfold in them. When I looked down I saw that his feet were tied to a rope that was tied to the bottom of the chair, only giving him two feet of moving space.

"Hey...thanks," I said.

He turned around and looked at me. His eyes were a striking shade of midnight blue, his face handsomely angular, yet strangely familiar, although his mouth was covered in duct tape.

"Maybe if you can get your mouth by my hands I can pull off the tape." I offered.

The guy shrugged his shoulders in response.

We struggled for a long time before I finally got a grip on the tape and managed to pull it off.

"Where are we?" I asked him.

"Your guess is as good as mine." he replied kinda snotty.

"Who are you?" I tried again.

"You don't know who I am?" he asked in complete utter shock.

"Uh, no?"

He huffed at me. "I'm Jonah Hudson. One of the most famous pop stars in the world."

"Ohhhh," I said. Now I knew who he was. "You're my little sisters favorite singer!"

Jonah rolled his eyes as if I had just insulted him.

But my thoughts were already tuning to my family. Did my dad and sister know that I was missing? They were at home  when I went outside for my run.

They had to know that I was gone and would contact the police. Any minute now someone would barge in to save us. Or maybe it would be our kidnappers coming to kill us. However, if they were going to kill us, then why tie us up? Maybe it was for ransom?

Yeah that had to be it! Jonah was famous and my dad is a neurosurgeon, obviously there had to be money involved.

"I'm Sparaline by the way." I told Jonah, happy that I figured out why we were kidnapped. At least now I new we had a good chance of getting out of this alive. "Most people just call me Spara though."

"And I care because...?" he
asked. I was looking straight ahead so I couldn't see him, but I could sense that he wore some smug sarcastic expression on his face and that his eyes were rolled.

It's odd how much you can tell about someone just from the tone of their voice.

"I thought you might want to know. So you know what to call me." I explained, trying not to let his attitude get to me.

"I really don't want to know. I just want to go back on my world tour."

"Okay..."

He rolled his eyes again, not that I could see, obviously.  But I could just tell he was doing it. And it was highly irritating. What made him think he was better than me? Was it because he was famous?

I could feel my anger starting to rise, but I pushed it back, and forced a smile onto my face. It would do neither of us any good to get upset and angry, despite how bad of an attitude he might have.

"You know, we both are kidnapped. Most people in this situation would be thinking of ways to escape, so do not stand there criticizing me like you are better than me. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but we are in the same situation and that makes us equal."

"Of course it does." Jonah said sarcastically. I could sense him roll his eyes. Again.

If he keeps that up his eyes will be stuck like that.

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

Jonah let out a short unemotional laugh.

We sat in silence for a long time. Neither of us talked or really moved. We just looked out the open door.

The open door.

Why in the world would our captors leave the door open? Especially when there might be a chance that we could escape our bindings.

Not a chance of that happening... I thought to myself as I tried to slip out of the tightly tied ropes.

The bindings stayed in place, but the chair wiggled slightly. Maybe if I could.....?

I started to shake and move and make jerky movements, forcing the chair this way and that.

"Are you okay?" Jonah asked like I was some kind of mental case.

"Fine. I'm fine." I replied.

"What are you doing then?"

"This." I said as the chair collapsed. I fell to the ground and somehow Jonah managed to fall on my shoulder.

"Ow. You could give someone a little bit of a warning next time. That hurt." Jonah told me, angry.

"Says the one sitting on my shoulder."

"What?"

"Nothing, sorry."

Jonah rolled his eyes.

He really needed to stop that. His eye rolling was very quickly climbing up it's way to the top of my pet peeve list.

We spent a very long time untieing the bindings. I rubbed my wrists that now itched and were red because of being tied up.

We both looked out the door not sure if what we wanted was out there.

I took a step forward.

"What are you doing?" Jonah demanded.

"What does it look like?"

"Stupidity."

I gave him a blank stare. How could someone be so blatantly rude?

"I'm going out there." I stated, pointing out the door. "I am not going to stand here and wait for our kidnappers to come to us."

"Oh of course! What a great idea. Instead of waiting for our captors, let's run right to them!" Jonah replied in a mock supportive voice.

"It is a great idea, at least we have a chance out there. In here we are just sitting chickens begging to have our heads cut off!" I probably sounded a little hysterical trying to prove my point.

"Look, " Jonah started, his voice surprisingly unsarcastic, yet still condescending, "the people who took us, left the door open for a reason. Probably so that the idiot they kidnapped would walk through it. This is all some big trap that only you are stupid enough to fall for."

His eyes glared at me in a demeaning manor, that really got on my nerves. I so badly wanted to smack his arrogant, patronizing, egotistical look right off his face.

Instead, I looked him in the eyes and asked him the question that would give us the false hope that I knew he was trying to avoid.

"What if it isn't?"