Based off of the short story: We Don't Talk About Sarah

Warning: kidnapping, child-abuse

Here's another chapter because I love all of you so much!

We Don't Talk About Uncle Francis

Chapter 2: What's Going to Happen?

Alfred: 11 ~~ Matthew: 11 ~~ Arthur: 11

Point of View: Arthur

I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that stupid frog. Who does he think he is, coming up to me like that and flashing a bit of the gun he concealed carefully in his pocket? I didn't have much of a choice but to go with him, now did I? I wasn't in the mood to be shot. Where were the police when you needed? All these thoughts swam through my head as I sat on a chair in the corner of the room while the long haired blonde cooked. The two other children had gone outside, I could see them playing with water through the window.

"Not thinking about leaving are you?" he asked, smile fox like and eyes narrow.

I only looked away, refusing to talk to him.

"Now don't be like that." He mocked a pout. "We should at least be hospitable to one another. You're going to be here for a long time anyway."

I snorted, pushing my abnormally large eyebrows together. "Like hell I will." I growled.

I regret it.

My head slammed against the wall. The chair forgotten lying sideways on the floor. A tight fist pulling at my hair. I grimaced in pain but muster up the will to glare at the French bastard.

"You will behave."

"Never."

I found myself being dragged through the house by my short light blonde hair. I kicked and shouted only for him to pull harder. I was shoved through an open door. My instinctive thoughts of landing on floor crushed when my body met the wood of steps. I cried out in pain, finally landing on a cold cement floor. I barely had enough time to see the door close. The French man and the light that came in for the house gone. I pushed myself up slowly, wincing at the pain as I touched a wet spot on my forehead. I looked away quickly, wiping the red liquid on my pants as I looked around. It was empty for the most part, a pole in the middle of the room and a filthy window that I could neither reach nor go through on the opposite wall.

I searched the room, looking for any sort of weapon or tool I could use to escape. Was my family looking for me? I wondered. Probably not. Scott probably went out for drinks as soon as he realized that I was no longer with him. The git never had liked me, always took the chances to beat me up whenever our parents were absent.

Tears welled in my eyes. I'd never see them again. Maybe I wouldn't live a week. Who knew what that creep had in store for me? The other children seemed to trust him enough. Perhaps, if I got close to them, my chances of escape would be greater. I had to try, it was my only option.

It seemed like hours had passed by without seeing anyone. My stomach growled, pleading for food. When I heard the door open, I bolted into the nearest and darkest corner.

"Arthur," the French voice filled the quiet room. I shivered in fear quickly pressing myself against the wall as much as I could with each step he took.

As luck would have it, my stomach chose that time to let out a long low growl. The man turned in my direction meeting my large green eyes.

"Please don't hurt me." I whimpered, eyes welling with fat tears. "Just stay away from me. Let me go!"

A smile appeared on his face; soft and almost concerned. I would have believed it if the gleam in his eye hadn't suggested otherwise.

"I only brought some food," he held out the bowl of what looked to be pasta, "I thought that you would be hungry."

I considered the option for a moment. "Put it on the floor and leave." I finally decided.

A chuckle filled my very being with dread. He shook his head. "Mon cher, life isn't that simple. I'll give you the food for a price."

I only starred at him, waiting for him to name his price.

"A kiss."

Fair warning, I want at least five reviews before I upload chapter 4!

REVIEW, ALERT, AND FAV PLEASE!