Kicking But Not Screaming
Summary: I'm calling out a distresses call because not only am I being kidnapped but also the kidnapper is a beautiful girl who may or may not be taking me against my will. All I know is she has a gun, will shoot it at people and gives delicious kisses. Dr. Phil would not even be able to figure out this emotional mess I'm chin deep in.
Author Note: After watching one too many movies with either kidnapping, blood, knives, guns and beautiful men and the weird, love that I seemed to be developing for bright colors, I've finally put together a story I can work on during my summer nights.
Disclaimer: All rights go to their rightful owners.
The beginning
Fiddling with the radio, I finally stopped at a classical station. Classical music always seemed to subdue me after a long day of busting tables at work. Even though my family had money practically pouring out of their ears, my father considered jobs as a certain trait in life that needs to be sustained, even when you don't really need money when you're a seventeen year old, high school boy.
Builds character, he says but I can't seem to agree with him on that. Busting my ass as a damn waiter all day, listening to people command me to get them meals on a silver platter is build character?
Fuck character then.
My father. . .he was a mysterious man, to the public eye and to the family. On one side he was the perfect family man. Always there to help put a bandage on a sprained ankle, ready to play football with me and my friends, and often helped my mother cook dinner.
He met my mother in Forks, when she was fresh out of high school, him in his late thirties. They fell in love in less than a month and he threw his suitcase down and offered to take the job as a doctor at the local hospital.
He went through all the steps a normal man would do. He bought a house for him and Esme, got a stable job and pretty soon had his wife pregnant. Everyone thought of him as practically normal other than the small question that was at the back of everyone's minds when they thought of Dr. Carlisle Cullen.
How did he get all that money?
It wasn't a secret that he was rich with his apparel, the car he drove, and the house he bought. When some people just decided to be blunt and ask him directly how he had summoned so much money, Carlisle would always grin and say that he had some people die in his family that left him with good inheritance.
Pulling away from my thoughts, I focused on the road. It was dark and the only think other than my headlights lighting the road were the few lamps I passed on the way.
As I passed another lamp I was surprised to see a small women, leaning into the road with her thumb up.
You have got to be kidding me, I thought as I pulled over.
I squinted my eyes against the dark to see if I recognized her as I watched as she ran forward and pulled the passengers door open.
"You are such a life savor!" She said breathlessly. Her cheeks were pink and she wore a bright red coat that reached to her knees. Pulling her hair back she revealed a pair of red chunky earrings and a small tattoo that trailed all the way down her neck and disappeared under her bright coat. She was older than me, estimating probably at twenty three or twenty four.
Defiantly not your average hitchhiker.
"Your not from Forks." I stated, still staring at her.
That was quite obvious. I had lived in Forks my whole life and had never seen her around. Plus she was far too attractive to be from Forks. Forks had the old, washed up souls who drove the old, banged up cars and bought the dull clothes than blended in with the scenery while she sat next to me in a bright, cherry coat. She was the polar opposite from the women in Forks, at least when it came to style.
Tilted her head to look at me she smiled. "I'm actually here to collect something."
"In Forks?" I asked, puzzled.
A mischievous smile played on her lips. "Actually a someone, if you know what I mean."
"Ah," Was my lame response as my body filled with envy and jealousy. "Lucky man."
She snorted. "Betcha you won't be thinking that in a second."
"Why's that?"
She chuckled, "Because Edward, your far from a lucky man." I felt a small prick on my arm that was resting against the armrest nearest to her.
"How do you know my name?" I asked but then stopped when I caught sight of her. "What the. . .?"
She's holding a small needle in her hand and is looking at me apologetically. I watch as she gets out of the car and walks around to my side. My eyes are still on her as she opens my door and unbuckles my seat belt, before pulling my out of the car and into the back.
I try to resist but my arms suddenly feel like they have weights in them.
"What the hell?" I muster out but I realize it's more of a slur.
"Shhh." The women whispers and just before my eyes loose the capability of seeing and my mind goes numb I see her bright red coat and think, none of the other girls in Forks like to where cherry's.
Review's are appreciated and cause me to want to wear my bright purple sweatshirt, pull my hair back in a ponytail, knock my glass's closer to my nose and write another chapter for you. So, review.