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Chapter Twenty-Six:
Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future. - Niels Bohr
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Sunday 18/11/18
"Kankuro," I stormed straight down the hall towards him. "KANKURO! YOU STOP RIGHT THERE MISTER!"
And for once, he listened to me. "What, midget-girl?"
"Original," I brush his insult off, and we walk into the lunch-room. "Now, tell me exactly what is happening."
"Huh?"
"You know what I mean," I narrow my eyes at him. "Why has Gaara been so worried lately? Why have you been avoiding me? Why is it suddenly actually necessary for my survival that I stay inside?"
He suddenly, using the same step he'd meant to be foreward, turned around and spun the other way. "I don't know what you're saying, but I don't like your tone of voice."
Anger flared. "Don't lie, bastard! You know exactly what I'm saying, so damn well just tell me!"
"I'm sorry, go find somebody eeeelllssee."
"KANKURO! You come right back here!" I shout as he, to my immense surprise, and in any other situation, I would have laughed, jogged off. I could have caught him, but if I did, it would mean a show-down, and really, I didn't feel like being beaten to a pulp that day.
Moodily, I report to the kitchens, seeing I'm in a horrible mood, they give me some mushrooms to chop up without any complaint about silly traditions.
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Monday 19/11/18
Today, I decided it was time I wrote to Kimimaro. In desperation for some kind of distraction from the worry that now plagued me, I crafted a letter. It went like this:
Kimimaro,
Please, please, please don't throw this out just yet. Actually read it. I am so very, very, very, very, VERY sorry. Really, nothing I can ever write will express how sorry I really am. So I won't bother too much, as I will probably just embarrass myself.
I think I'm getting married. I know that sounds strange, but it wasn't really my idea, and apparently, it's for my own safety. You've probably known all along who and what Gaara was. Fair enough, I don't really mind.
I miss you, that's all I really wrote to say. There are vents here, but none of them are as great as the ones in Sound, I assure you. They are bigger, but not better. And all of them are locked on solid. And they have downwards-vents too, so I fall down. A lot.
I miss you more then anything, I really do. So very much.
Please think of forgiving me,
Love,
Sora.
P.S. don't worry, I won't actually send this. So you won't get it. Just thought I'd let you know.
P.P.S sorry about the stain. It's okay, it's just honey. And coffee. But I spilt some and had already ran out of paper. And getting more would mean having a face off with the receptionist, who is angry about me taking her paper.
And it was true. I'd re-wrote it about seventeen times, and been down there fifteen times now. I think if I turned up again, she'd just give me all the paper she had, and told me never to come back.
Of course, as I said, I didn't do anything with it, but I put it in an envelope and put it in my over-the-shoulder bag, the one that I'm sure Gaara will never touch, because a) it has my diary(s) in it, and b), it's very old and smells funny.
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Tuesday 20/11/18
Boredy bored bored, when Gaara came in last night, he looked better. So I feel a bit better. Somebody has bolted the vent up. So just in case, y'know, I need to vent anywhere and really piss Gaara off, I found a screwdriver and hid it in the drawer.
Judging by the fact I found another screwdriver already in the drawer next to the bed, it gave me a fairy good idea who was to blame over screwing shut the vent in the first place.
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Wednesday 21/11/18
I haven't felt sunlight in several weeks now, I think. So I'm going to smother myself in sunblock and go write out on the balcony.
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I don't know the time. It may be Thursday, but then again, it may be Saturday.
About ten minutes after I had put my diary, a pen and three apples in a small bag and stepped out onto the balcony, two men had dropped down from the ceiling. They all wore uniform, but I had a feeling it was underneath the long black patterned cloaks they wore. From the moment I saw them, I knew they were here to take me, or kill me. Either way, I'd be leaving Gaara.
Backing into the building, they advanced, eyes wide, and still with (luckily) the bag over my shoulder. I ran, but in a flash one of them was behind me, breathing heavily, I nodded to myself stood still. Oh dear…. Oh dear, ahh. I tried to stop and think and buy a moment for myself.
"Go on, then." I said, trying to make my voice steady.
"You're not going to scream?" The one behind me said this; I didn't turn to look at him. You bet I was, I thought to myself, my eyes narrowed at them, I wasn't going without a fight. Panic coursed through my veins, as realization really hit, everything honestly started to sink in. I was the target, Gaara didn't give them what they wanted, so it was getting personal. It was me Gaara had been worried about, all along.
And then they ran at me, and I raced to the side of the room, my shoes sliding on the wooden floor, ending in me barely missing the corner of the wall with my face, my running method of escape didn't get me far, and soon the blonde one had his hands on my shoulders, dragging me back, I tried to pry his fingers off, but instead his hands gripped my hands, instinctively, I bit down hard, on both his and my hand. My hard bottom teeth bit into the top of his hand, he swore at me, and flung me backwards into his friend, I hit him hard, as he didn't expect the blonde one to have trouble with me.
He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground with ease, I could tell he found it funny, his hands were slightly blue, but I disregarded this when I kicked with my bond-free legs, I hit his thighs twice, before I finally hit home. He yelped, and I stumbled to the ground, where I ran a few steps without getting anywhere, before my feet finally hit something they could grip and I shot off towards the door, I was caught in the first few steps, a hand gripped my pony tail.
Crying out in pain, I slid to the floor at the feet of my captor. Tears blurred my vision, but I still hit blindly in his direction, crying now, I could tell they were getting angry, the blonde one pulled on my pony tail, and I rose up with it, trying to ease the weight that was relying on my scalp. I'd never been good with pain.
"That's right, just stay still, yeah? And you'll be fine."
Fear made it hard to breathe, and the blonde one held my pony tail up further, I gasped and tried to get higher, the other one then proceeded to take my hands and bind them, with nothing else to support my weight, there was a terrifying moment when I could have sworn my scalp felt like it was about to tear right off, but as I uttered wordless cries he let me down a bit, easing the weight back onto my legs.
My hands were bound behind my back, and he was now working on my feet, it was only when I felt the hand on my ponytail let go, that I kicked straight up into the chin of the other person, his head flew back and for the first time I saw the face of the attacker. He was blue, had scars on his neck, and a bloody nose. I only saw a flash though, because I was distracted when a foot connected with my ribs, winding me. I was then gagged and blindfolded, with that, I was thrown in the air, probably over somebody's shoulder, and carried away.
But to me, it wasn't over. I wriggled, and eventually managed to turn myself to the side and knee somebody with both tied legs in the neck. I was dropped, and sworn at, my head connected with something, and a sharp pain exploded in the side of my face, around my temple. Cold filled the side of my face, and blackness overtook my vision.
I woke up a bit later, I was in the backseat of a car, I could guess, and there was some kind of caked dry liquid on my face, all over my face. It made it hard to open my eyes, but even when I did I still had the blindfold on. Realizing what I thought had happened, had happened, I lapsed back into sleep.
***
Dundundundununnnn. Dun dun dun dunnnnn dun dun dunnnn! (That last bit was to the tune of Indiana Jones, haha)
To the lovely Kibafangirl, what's a PM? Post-somethingorather? Ummm, Prime-Minister? Pretty Metaphors? Perfect Mentos? Pre Menstrual? I'm sorry, I fail at new-age technology talk, I really don't fit into this silly 90's generation. The 90's was a horrible time to be conceived, I blame the 90's for a lot, y'know. Especially all this shit music we have lately.
Stupid 90's, ARRGHH. I cannot explain my hate for the 90's.
Really, I can't.
Okay! Past that, I LOVE YOU. THANKS LOTS.
Love, to-love.