I do not own CSI
I never thought that I would become one of the millions of girls kidnapped every year. There was no reason that that could happen. I never posted personal information on the internet of myself, gone out to wild parties, or hang with complete and utter strangers. The only exception was that my dad was the biggest, most famous computer geek in the whole world. He was known for producing state of the art security programs for the public. The government even had him design special programs for their intelligence agencies secretly.
I guess a computer geek's daughter is as valuable as a governor's daughter.
It all started one day in New York City when I was on my way to school. Every day I walked with all the other pedestrians crowding the sidewalks. No one minded me, and I didn't mind them. You could say I was in my own world. There was a lot that I had to worry about. I had three projects in three different subjects and all of them were due that week.
As I was hustling down to my school I wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into this blonde headed boy. He gave me an annoyed face before walking the opposite direction. The boy left so fast I didn't even get to say sorry. I brushed him off my shoulder and continued to school. As I was passing this one building one of the third floor windows exploded, hot flame zooming out.
The pedestrians under the building got showered in glass, and I covered my face. Suddenly someone grabbed me from behind and dragged me to a nearby alley. It was the same kid I had bumped into earlier. When I turned to face him I punched him in his stomach. He took the punch but as I was trying to escape grabbed my coat and tackled me to the ground.
That was all I remembered before being knocked out. When I woke up I was in a motel room with my right hand handcuffed to a bed. My head really ached. As I took in my surroundings my heart beat faster. My coat was still on me and the bed I lay in was still fresh.
It seemed that my kidnapper dumped me here and then left. Nothing was out of place, and I was certain I was the only one in the room. I looked back to my handcuffed wrist. Then I began messing with it, trying to get free. I was willing to do anything—chew my hand off.
The other ends of the handcuffs were around the edge of the metal head board. I could move my handcuffed hand from side to side a tiny bit until another intersecting piece of metal stopped it. I whimpered quietly. Suddenly I heard the door to the room open. In came a boy the age of sixteen. He was a complete stranger.
But then I realized that he was the same boy who had blonde hair, only now his hair was brown. I could tell when he looked down at me as he passed my bed and the bed next to mine to a desk in the corner. Then he dumped the contents of his backpack onto the table. I curled up into a ball as I watched him silently work on whatever he was doing. From the looks of it, he was making a bomb. Great.
Not only have I been abducted, I'm probably going to be blown to smithereens by a teenage boy. For a while he worked without talking to me. My nerves began to calm down as I watched him. He didn't seem threatening—just quiet. After what seemed like two hours of observation I finally got bold.
"What are you doing?"
He didn't reply. There was only the rustling of his hands putting things together.
"What are you doing?" I repeated.
Then he stood up. He was coming toward me! I retreated as far as I could into my little ball. His face was blank as he grabbed my left arm and clamped a watch around my wrist. Its two ends snapped together.
"If you value your life, then I suggest not separating from me. That watch has a built in bomb." He told me.
I saw he had an identical watch, and suspected the detonation device was in his watch.
"Who are you?"
"Call me Jason."
"What do you want? Is it because of my father? He'll pay the ransom."
Jason sat on the other bed and rested his head on top of his hands. "We'll let you go after you do something for us."
"What do I have to do?"