Abducted
Disclaimer: I don't own Fairly Odd Parents
Chapter 8
"I don't know what you're talking about," Callie said defiantly, "I aint a rat and Greta's dead meat when I find her."
"You leave her alone," I said firmly, "tell me where Serena is," I shoved her, "or did you rat her out and not care about anything that happened afterwards?"
Callie's eyes flared in fury. We were alone in a back alley since I snuck out during her street walking time and confronted her. She could attack me right now and no one would know. But I had to find Serena.
"Did she contact you?" I demanded, "did she!"
Callie pulled out a knife. The blade was at least five inches. I stepped back, this was getting deadly.
"Callie, put that away. Please."
"It's Callie now huh?" Callie taunted, "I can cut you up anytime society trash, I don't street walk without protection."
"Okay, okay," I said stepping away further, "I'll leave you alone," I accepted, "I just want to know if Serena contacted you after she ran," I tried.
"Ask me again and I'll slit your throat!" Callie screamed and I took off running.
(One Year after Kidnapping)
"Are you sure?" I asked tearfully, "he's dead, my dad's dead?"
"I'm sorry," The Dean said formally, "it was a sudden heart attack, no time to let you make a secret call," he told me.
A few high priced girls with good behaviour were allowed to call a family member who's terminal. But first it had to be guaranteed that the chosen individual wouldn't then turn around and call the police. Also it depended on the mood of The Dean. If he was cross, forget it.
I wiped my eyes and looked around his office. It was compact but well decorated with paintings, expensive figurines and furniture.
"How's Tad?" I asked hoping for some good news
"He's holding up, dating a cute blonde named Veronica, I think."
My head shot up. I must've heard wrong because no friend would date her nest friend's boyfriend while she's missing. Not in my mind. The Dean must've been mistaken.
"Did you expect him to wait?" The Dean asked, "you're teens, such love rarely lasts."
My hands shook. I had a comment on the tip of my tongue. But I knew saying it would get me severely punished and worst case scenario, I could lose my society girl status.
"Yeah, I hope they're happy."
"Seem to be, she and a Tootie fight like cats and dogs," The Dean added, "cheerleader vs. quirky next school president," he said, "I think she hankers after a Timmy Turner."
"She's single then," I said unsurprised.
"Yes but she dates around," The Dean said, "a boy named Chess or Chet really likes her, he's complete trailer trash though," he added with distaste.
"Chester," I recalled.
"Oh yes, his father's a washed up baseball player who always sucked," The Dean said, "you can get a walk day if you'd like," he offered, "your escort will be Mr. Cutter."
I blanched at the idea. Despite the generous offer I wanted nothing to do with Mr. Cutter. The thought him and I outside this place and alone practically gave me a panic attack. It wasn't worth it to me, I'd wait for another opportunity to see the outside other than doing jobs.
"I'm sorry…" I started.
"Are you turning down a walk day?" The Dean asked, "from me?" he asked darkly.
I knew I was trapped. Whatever he had planned, I had to go along.
"I mean…thank you…I cannot wait."
(One week later)
I sniffled as I positioned myself in the taxi. The Dean didn't accept my pathetic excuse and had me sent to an underground sex club's orgie session for three days. It was sex non-stop and when I left, I couldn't stand. On the fifth day Earl told me my walk day was two days away. I had to start working again that day (meaning I only had one day's rest after being at the club). I graciously accepted.
Now Mr. Cutter and I were headed for the Dimmsdale Mega Mall. A major teen hot spot. I remembered hanging out with my friends there back when I had a normal life. When I was free and happy. I wasn't free anymore and I'm far from happy. But I get to see Dimmsdale again. Maybe even glimpse a few of my friends.
I looked out the taxi's window and saw my distorted reflection. My hair was bright blue with pink and black streaks in the front; I wore green contacts with raccoon eyes, basic face make-up, dark lipstick and a clip on nose ring. I knew this was to keep me from getting too close to those I knew. The cheap blue denim jacket, red rocker tee, and black frayed skirt with matching sketcher sneakers completed the look. I wouldn't talk to me if I was dying. Not in the past.
As the taxi parked and Mr. Cutter paid; I got out. People were pouring out the mall. They were chatting to each other, on cell phones, logging bags and getting into different cars. Just another weekend at the mall. For everyone but me.
We walked straight into the mall. Mr. Cutter kept me in front so I'd have to be the 'leader' in this. I chose to go to a make-up store first. To my surprise he waited outside. But he made a quick finger across the neck motion at me. Escape wasn't an option. I nodded and went deep into the isles.
I had a purse full of neat rows of twenties. I knew it went into the thousands. A guard gave it to me just before it was time to leave. I picked both make-up I'd really wear and that the rocker girl I was dressed like would put on. I turned to go to the cashier when I saw a shocking sight. Timmy Turner and Veronica Star. The status less boy and my popular best friend. Both were laughing and flirting. Then I noticed a soccer jersey on Veronica. It had 'Turner' and a number on the back.
That explains it, he's a jock now, I realized.
I decided to pretend to still be shopping and listen in.
"Oh Timmy," Veronica giggled, "it's so nice to finally be in the open," she said, "no status barrier, no sneaking into classrooms or tree houses, and no Trixie, Thank God."
No Trixie? What does she mean? I wondered.
"True, sad she's dead and all," Timmy said, "but she lived her life as a jerk," he pointed out, 'you're much nicer now that you don't have to be her shadow," he said smiling.
I wanted to walk over and sock them both. Veronica wanted to be popular more than anything. If she didn't like playing second to me then she could've made the effort to outshine me or leave popularity behind. I never put a gun to her head. She coveted the position by my side and desperately wanted to keep it. Of course now I know she was just waiting for a chance to stab me in the back. My disappearance must've been so convenient for her.
"Tad's even moved on," Veronica stated, "though who he's with is a joke as far as I'm concerned," she said, "maybe he's really into brunettes but Tootie, seriously?"
I dropped a nail polish causing it to shatter on the floor. I kept my back turned and refused to look back or down.
"You'll have to pay for that miss," a weezy teen in the store's employee uniform said.
"I know," I said rudely and decided to at least try and get off my shoes to seem busy, "excuse me, you're in my light," I said in my assigned voice that had a Las Vegas accent.
"Sounded different a second a go," Veronica said.
I froze. I spoke as Trixie to that wheezy jerk. If she knew who I was I was super dead. And probably, so was she.
"I….I….I sound different when I'm angry," I lied, "and….that stupid boy over there is treating me like a thief!" I accused loudly, "hey don't you help customers around here?" I demanded hoping to avert attention from myself.
"Elmer! Stop bothering the customers and clean up the mess in the isle!" a voice roared over the intercom.
"Yes dad," he wheezed.
Soon I was barely able to keep from laughing. Veronica started giggling.
"Mona, are you alright?" a familiar voice asked.
I looked behind me to see Mr. Cutter walking up.
"Yes um Uncle Tom," I said using his cover name, "a nail polish fell and an ugly teen employee was rude to me," I whined hoping to throw him off.
"Very," Veronica said, "his dad's the manager, he should fire the boil faced prick."
"Really?" Mr. Cutter asked, "just leave everything then, we don't buy from pricks," he said boldly, "we're not poor."
Veronica waved as Mr. Cutter led me out. I looked over at Timmy and noticed he looked concerned. I just waved as if I didn't notice. Outside Mr. Cutter gripped my shoulder firmly and led me over to an isolated corner.
"This is a camera blind spot," Mr. Cutter told me, "why were you chatting with Veronica?" he demanded, "she's too close to you."
"She walked up after I dropped the nail polish," I said meekly, "that stupid boy got her attention," I lied, "I remember we used to call him 'Boil Kid' in grade school."
"And the other boy, Timmy Turner?"
"What about him?" I asked carefully, "I only waved to him so I wouldn't look ruse or awkward," I added.
"He looked pensive, worried," Mr. Cutter said, "why would he when he's not supposed to know you?"
"He's a teenager, we brood over all kind of crap."
Mr. Cutter glared at me. He was obviously not buying it.
"If you're so suspicious check him out yourself," I blurted out then covered my mouth in horror.
Oh God, I could've just given him the okay to kill Timmy if he does know something, I thought.
Mr. Cutter laughed. "You're finally becoming a true survivalist, a whoring one but still."
This time when we continued walking, Mr. Cutter took the lead. I got almost no more contact with teens and I quickly realized why. He was taking me to antique shops, men suits stores, weird gift shops and gaudy thrift stores. I soon realized he was determined to keep me away from people my age as well as firmly under his radar.
I walked unto another floor and saw A.J. across from me. But before I could fully register his presence Mr. Cutter pulled me into a fabric store. I looked behind me to see A.J. enter an electronics store.
Suddenly there was gunfire and I was forced to the ground. I soon heard an alarm and people running away.
"Let's go," Mr. Cutter said and gently got me to my feet, "your friend's shot and outside, don't acknowledge him," he warned me, "or you're dead," he snarled.
We stepped out and I saw A.J. bleeding with open eyes staring into nothing. He was dead.
"A.J.!" Timmy shouted and jumped a railing as a crowd converged upon the tragic scene, "NO!"
I looked to see Veronica standing where Timmy was frozen and in tears. She saw me and gave a little wave. I looked to see Mr. Cutter staring at Timmy. It was my only shot.
"It's me," I mouthed, "this man has me hostage Star, get help."
Veronica's eyes widened in horror. I knew the voice in the store and my words were starting to make sense. She turned around and fled up the stairs. I tugged on Mr. Cutter and we exited the store. We walked to an empty lot and he called a taxi.
Suddenly there was another gun shot. I thought I was saved. But then I felt a stabbing pain in my back.
"Do you really think I'm that dumb bitch?" Mr. Cutter demanded, "prepare to die along with your friends."
Three more shots and I lost consciousness.
End Chapter 8
The next chapter is the final one.