Jerome, AZ
September 24th, 2018
15:43:59

God, these guys are idiots, I thought as Brad dragged me through hall after hall, surrounded by white walls and illuminated by blinding LED lights. By this time I'd given up struggling but refused to stand, so Brad had to drag me by my armpits to wherever the hell he was taking me.

I mean, really, think about it. They could have easily put a bag over my head again, held me at gunpoint and/or had Curly carry me. Why get a scrawny nerd to drag me by my armpits, where I can see everything and probably escape with ease? That's just bad writing.

Brad had been dragging me for at least a few minutes in complete silence except for the sound of his own wheezing when I finally spoke.

"So, Brad, tell me, what made you decide to go into the kidnapping industry?" I looked up at him, surveying his sweaty, red face. I half expected him to ignore me or snap, but to my surprise he let out a full hearted laugh.

"For someone so heavy you're really taking this lightly," he responded.

"Look who's talking, Mr. Potbelly," I replied sarcastically.

"Why aren't you more scared? Most of the kidnapples pass out or wet themselves by this point."

"Yea what the fuck is a kidnapple? Maybe if you didn't call me that I'd be more terrified." I was genuinely enjoying this. I guess bold sarcasm can get you places.

"The hell if I know." He answered, before plopping me down on the ceramic tile floor. Rubbing my now bruised butt, I turned around and looked up, watching him enter a number into a keypad by the door at the end of the hall. It seemed just like any of the other doors we'd passed by; plain, light blue metal with a small window that was covered up by a thin white paper. This door, however, was the only one with a keypad; all the rest had old fashioned doorknobs with old fashioned keys.

I watched him enter the last 3 digits of the 6 digit code: 553. I made a mental note of that for later. The keypad made a cheery series of beeps and then the door swung open by itself. Fancy.

He started to pick me up again, but I pushed him off. "Oh, no. I don't want you dragging my butt down those stairs, I already have one bruise. I'll walk, thank you very much." I said, standing up and brushing myself off.

"Ok, whatever. Just don't touch anything." He shrugged and motioned for me to go in front of him. I started down the stairs, looking back to watch him reenter the code on a keypad on the inside of the door to lock it. Not watching where I was going, I tripped. Of course. What a Vonda thing to do.

I basically went flying into the air and landed on my face, sliding down the rest of the way on my chin and stomach. When I finally made it to the bottom, my head crashed and my body made a 270° flip above it, landing me flat on my back. I closed my eyes and groaned, thinking something was surely broken. I opened them again to the sound of a slow, sarcastic clap.

Above me was Brad, smirking smugly. He stopped clapping and helped me up. My nose was bleeding and I didn't even want to know what else I'd done to myself. What a failure. What an absolute failure.

Brad offered me a tissue to stem the bleeding, but I refused. I wanted to let it bleed to hide my shame. I get kidnapped and the first person to beat me up is myself. What a great story that'll be to tell my parents when they rescue me... not.

They won't rescue me. It'll be days before they realize I'm gone. What a great time to get kidnapped, my first time spending spring break alone, away from home. But I digress.

Seems like a good place to end the chapter to me! I've run out of ways to stall the fact that the useless writer doesn't actually have a plot planned out. Welp, time to make out with Brad I guess, I thought to myself, before throwing myself at him, bloody nose and all.