It wasn't a good day to kidnap Rhiannon Sullivan. She just learned she got an F on her Geometry test (her fourth one), which led to a fieldtrip to the principal's office (the eighth one that week), which led to getting suspended (second time). If it was a good day there would have probably been less screaming and less biting and kicking. But then again she was pissed of so yeah bad day.

Rhiannon was standing outside of the building with the rest of the kids, glaring at the rain as it sprinkled down at all of them. They were waiting for the school's security guard to open the gate and they would be let out of the "cage" and into "freedom," as the other kids call it. But for Rhiannon out there, her home, that was the cage. "Hey," someone stuttered behind her, "nice shirt."

She turned around to see a kid with pimples covering his forehead, and black hair sticking out from his bright green knit cap, that was worn from being pulled over his ears and his forehead. She'd seen him around the school, but like everyone else she ignored him. "Thanks," she mumbled. She looked down at her Rolling Stones shirt she'd found by chance in her mother's room. She zipped up my wool bomber jacket over it. She looked back up at the kid; he was looking at her with a nervous expression, like if she was going to punch him at any moment, just for the fun of it. Which he was probably used to by now, instead she stretched out her hand, "Rhiannon."

He took her hand warily and shook it. "I'm Brody."

"Nice to meet you," she said. At that moment they finally let the gates open, and everyone practically ran to get out. "Bye." She told him, giving him a small wave.

He nodded, walking hurriedly towards the gates. "See you later." Rhiannon raised an eyebrow at him, but he was already gone. What did he mean bye later? she thought to herself, but quickly forgot about it. She was probably one of the only friends he had, since she doesn't remember ever seeing him hanging out with anyone, unless the bullies counted as people he hanged out with, he had no friends.

She was rounding a corner, a block away from her house, hoping that her mom had been too strung out to answer the phone that explained my suspension. She probably wasn't though since it was Friday, the only day of the week when her mom is actually coherent, even if it was only for a few hours. She could already imagine the yelling that was bound to come as soon as she opened the door. She was so busy trying to figure out ways to slither away from home that she didn't notice the black Rolls-Royce. She did see the three guys come out of the cars, but she just supposed that they were going to get some of that free furniture in the yard of the house she was just passing. So it really was a surprise when they put a black bag over her head, grabbed both her harms and dragged her back into the car. One of the men pressed something cold against her wrists and she felt the metal tighten around them. Perfect, she thought.

Then the bag was slowly lifted off of her face. They had absolutely no time to r4eact to what she did next. As soon as she could regain her vision, she spotted a man peering at her from around the passenger in front of the car. She lifted her foot and with as much force as possible, she kicked him square in the face. The man's face snapped back and hit the dashboard hard. One of the men who where sitting next to her stretched out his arm to push her leg down. She leaned in and dug her teeth into his arm, he yelped and tried to pull his arm back, but she held on tightly. "Get her off!" He screamed. She felt fingers in her hair and forcefully pull her hair back.

"Ouch! Ouch!" She let go of the man's arm. "Let go, let go! Ouch!"

He leveled his face to mine. "If I let go will you stop fighting?" He pulled at her hair again.

She sniffled and nodded. He was gullible enough to actually believe her. As soon, as his hand was away from her hair she slammed her forehead against his. Bad idea, she thought. The impact left her hazy. Someone grabbed her and pushed her head against the seat. She had to blink a few times to clear her eyesight, and even then her head was pounding painfully. She glanced at the man she had smacked heads with; he was holding his head in his hands and groaning. "Where'd you learn to do that?" A slightly wheezy voice said in her ear.

"Military school," I muttered, pretty sure it was a rhetorical question but decided to answer it anyway. Rhiannon had gone to three military schools in the past, and all of them had some kind of self –defense class. They believed that the classes would help the kids with ADHD, like Rhiannon. It was mostly so the kids would get tired and that way they wouldn't make much trouble. It usually worked, after a session of mixed martial arts, Rhiannon would go back to her dorm and literally slept like the dead as soon as her head hit the pillow.

"I think she broke my nose," the guy she had kicked in the face said. He was covering his face with his hands but you could see some blood seeping out.

There was a heavy sigh coming from the driver and Rhiannon had to roll her eyes far down to see him. He pulled up to a curb, "put her in the trunk," he snapped. The guy holding her down opened the door and dragged her out. When her feet touched the ground she twisted around expertly and kicked the guy in the back of the knees, hard. Really not expecting that he went down on his knees and as soon as he did she twisted back around and kneed him in the chest. He groaned and was thrown back. She tried to make a run for it, but she hadn't even gone two feet when someone held on to her ponytail and pulled back sharply. She stumbled back and turned a bit to see it was the driver that had managed to catch her. He grabbed her arm in a vice grip and pulled her back to the car. She elbowed him, but he didn't even flinch, he just glared down at her.

He opened the trunk and started pushing her inside, but she resisted. She looked around and saw a car coming around the nearest corner. What the heck, she thought. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth and started screaming, loudly. "Help! Help!" She shouted. She wrestled against the driver, as he kept pushing her in. As the car got closer it slowed down a bit, but then it just sped on back to its normal speed. Like if the person in the car didn't just see a 6 foot, 40 year old man trying to get a fifteen year old girl in the trunk of his car.

"Stupid demigod," he muttered under his breath. He took Rhiannon's momentary distraction to shove her all the way in the trunk. But before he slammed it shut, Rhiannon noticed his eyes momentarily flash yellow and in slits, but they quickly turned back to normal. She pondered on his eyes for a second, but as soon as the engine turned on, she dismissed it as the result of head banging someone.

Now what? The space in the trunk was pretty cramped up. She curled herself into a tight ball and after many tries she managed to get her hands in front of her. She felt around the enclosed space, and around a corner above her head she felt a small knob. She pulled it to reveal a hidden compartment. Well, not really that hidden. She put her hand inside and felt around. What she found made her stomach tighten in alarm. She slowly took out one of the small packets and held it up to a crack of light that came through the door. She groaned when she made out the white powder inside.

No wonder they looked so familiar, she thought. She's probably seen each of them at least a dozen times, when they went to "visit" her mom. She even knew their names. The guy she kicked in the face was some blond called Steven. The one she almost ripped a chunk of arm from was Kyle, and the guy she head banged was actually one of her mom's many crushes, Matthew. She could still remember her mom going on and on about cute little Mattie.

Great, my life's at the hands of drug dealers, she thought. There was a shrill wolf whistle that came from the car. "Hey baby!" One of the guys shouted. She sighed, I had to get stuck with the dumb ones.