A/N:
Hello, lovelies! I've loved The Lost Boys for quite sometime now. I'm almost 19 and have been reading on this forum since I was 12/13. I've always been a perfectionist when it comes to my own writing, always having the best ideas to write but always being too picky too ever finally post something – or, posting and having writers block hit me shortly after the first few chapters. I had an account on here back when I was younger, but I've since discarded that one a long time ago and this is my new and improved account. It's nice to be back!
This is the first fic I've written since I was a lot younger than I am now. It may not be the best, even though I do feel my writing has improved since my first account on here.
Anyway, in saying that - I am just going to write and stray away from my usual perfectionist self – I am just going to write and post.
So, forgive me if it's not the best work I can do... I'm making a giant attempt to get back in the swing of things. And this story is definitely going to be using a different writing style than i'm used too.. But hey, change is good.
IF ANY OF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, WHERE YOU WANT THIS STORY TO GO.. Leave me a review or a PM. Reviews are great!
Thank you in advance, xo.
Lights, everywhere.
That's the last thing I remembered before it went completely black.
The last memory I have is eating cotton candy and butter drenched popcorn, listening to the sound of faded saxophone music in the distance while I sat on a bench watching the lights. My brother had wanted to go and check out the comic book store down the strip and I didn't think much else of it – I had let him go. He had his age and as much as our mother continued to be a helicopter parent, he was old enough not to be babysat. So I let him go.
I never thought in a million years that anything would have happened while he was gone. I was well aware that we weren't in small town Arizona anymore but I never would have thought that something like this would have happened.. Not to me. Maybe those other girls on the missing posters but not me.
I should have known, though. Santa Carla was the murder capital of the world and here I was, wearing next to nothing on a hot summer night sitting on the boardwalk alone. All it took was being alone for just over ten minutes, that's it. My mother warned me. My older brother warned me. My grandpa warned me. But I was used to Arizona, I didn't think fifteen minutes would hurt.. I was in a public area.
How did this happen?
I breathed deeply, rubbing my eyes. My lips were dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I was dehydrated. I wasn't sure how long I was here but my clothes were still intact, which was a good sign. I wasn't hurting in my private regions; there was no blood. I felt absolutely fine except for my mouth being extremely dry, feeling thirsty, and my back hurting from lying on a stone floor.
I knew it was stone because I woke up with my face pressed flush to it. It was cool, which was nice considering the air was hot. The only thing I knew for sure was that it was stone. Whether it was basement stone or rock stone, I didn't know. I just knew it was stone. It felt like stone.
It was completely dark. There was not a lick of light in this room where I was kept, which scared me more than anything. I never liked the dark, even as a child. The fear of the unknown was disturbing enough in my situation, let alone lying on what felt and smelt like musty blankets on a cold stone floor in the darkness.
I assumed I was in a basement by the stone floor underneath me and how there was no light anywhere. But I couldn't be sure. I couldn't see much, unless I looked extremely close. Everything in this room, or this basement or where ever I was stayed deathly silent. I knew that where ever I was, I was completely alone. I felt a lump grow inside of my throat but I couldn't cry, as much as I wanted too and as much as I tried, I couldn't. I wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of water I hadn't been drinking or the shock I was clearly still in. I wanted my mother. I wanted my own bed; I wanted to sleep forever. I wanted to go back to that moment on the boardwalk and make better choices for myself.
Why was this happening to me?
I felt around the blankets, moving slowly and being as cautious as possible. I felt coolness around my right ankle and touched and felt until I realized that it was a chain. My heart was racing, I wanted to scream but I felt too tired to scream. I had only been awake for about five or so minutes but I was ready to sleep again. I felt like I could sleep for an eternity. I was too tired too panic.
Maybe that's what they wanted?
I took a deep breath. I needed to stay positive. I laughed out loud while I thought that, my throat feeling raw as sore while I did. How does one stay positive when it's clear they've been abducted by god knows who, lying in the darkness god knows where with a chain wrapped around their ankle? How could I stay positive? I positioned the blankets I had in the most comfortable position and lied down, fighting to stay awake for as long as I humanly could.
Maybe this was a joke?
I felt my eyes growing heavier and heavier as time went on and I thought about how my brother liked to make sick jokes. I knew deep down that he would most likely never take it to this extent, but maybe this was all this was. Maybe the friends he had made the other night liked to make sick jokes too and talked him into pulling the sickest joke on his little sister that he could have ever killed.
I smiled to myself, feeling my lips peel and bleed slightly while I did so.
One big sick practical joke.