[ A Not-So-Average Day. ]
An image of old cave paintings flashed across the screen. Lazily, I yawned, not at all interested in the lecture I was currently being forced to listen to. From the several snores I could hear coming from around the room, I think it's safe to say I wasn't alone in my disinterest.
"So, who wants to tell me what caves were used for in prehistoric times?"
Um, no one.
Our teacher, of course, wasn't surprised by the silence her question received; it was a rare day when anyone actually wanted to answer her questions, mainly because her questions never had logical answers. You just wait. Even without a soul in the room looking in her direction, she pressed on, looking around the room and trying to decide which unfortunate student would be her next victim.
"Tyler, why don't you share your theories with the class?" Mrs. Sharpe suggested-or more accurately, ordered.
"Uh…" he started, clearly unable to think of an appropriate response. And no one in the class could blame him. "To… live in?"
"Well, that's a good guess, but no, Tyler. Why would they travel six miles underground all the time just to sleep somewhere? It's not practical."
"It probably wasn't six miles underground back then, Mrs. Sharpe," I said aloud, deciding that I'd help Tyler out on this one. "There's this thing called erosion and de… de-something—" Shit, where'd all that information I had to memorize for biology go?
"Deposition," Tyler supplied gratefully, realizing I couldn't think of the word.
"Yeah, that one!" I acknowledged. "And so yeah, it might not have been so impractical back then."
Mrs. Sharpe turned to me, frowning at my logic. Her hesitation was new; for a moment, I actually thought she might consider agreeing with me, but no, that'd be too easy. "That may be, Sarah, but still, archaeologists have found no bones, tools, or anything that would suggest anyone ever lived in the cave. And that being said—"
"Maybe they were just clean," I interrupted, which, I'll admit, was a rather stupid move on my part. "I mean, I wouldn't want to sleep next to a bunch of rotting bones, or constantly step on tools…"
"Miss Jacobson, you know better than to interrupt someone when they're speaking!" she snapped, though I was pretty sure her anger was really directed at my point, not at my interruption.
She obviously didn't notice the sarcasm practically dripping from my voice, because she continued on with her lecture: "As I was saying, the caves of prehistoric people were used for magic…"
Magic? How the hell were we supposed to guess that? I mean, really. Raise your hand if you thought the answer was 'magic'. Yeah, I thought not. Luckily, the bell rang only a few minutes later, sparing us all from having to hear about what she thought the first wheel was used for.
Yawning, I grabbed my bag and tossed it over my shoulder, quickly trying to leave the room, just in case she decided it would be fun to assign homework over the weekend.
"Hey, thanks for the save," Tyler said, patting me on the shoulder once as we exited the building and headed through the parking lot.
I shrugged. "Right back at you." I mean, what do you say to that, when you're talking to someone you really never talk to? 'Sure thing, pal?' Hell, I can't even pronounce pal; I always end up saying something like 'pail' or 'pale'.
"Anyways, yeah… See you Monday," he said, only slightly awkwardly, before veering off to the right.
"Have a nice weekend," I called after him, pulling out my keys and unlocking my car. It had to be a sign from above, showing that God obviously favored me, because I had a parking spot in the first row. And because Art History, my last class of the day, was stationed right in the Auditorium, I was able to get to my car very quickly. Which, of course, you needed to do if you wanted to leave the school within an hour.
Hurrying, I hopped into my little car, put the key in the ignition, and started her up. I flicked on the radio as I pulled in behind the first two cars in line, before switching the car into park. All of the losers who didn't have a car had to board the busses before anyone was allowed to leave the parking lot, so I knew I'd be sitting there for a while.
"I'm so addicted to, all the things you do, when you're going down on me, in between the sheets…" I sang along with Saving Abel, not at all embarrassed as I danced in my seat.
Tap tap tap.
I turned, rolling down the window as I noticed Cam standing next to my car. Without turning the radio down, I waited for him to speak. He eyed the still-blaring stereo, hesitated for a moment, and then seemed to realize I wasn't going to dim the music just so he could speak at a normal volume.
"You realize you look like a fool, right?" He questioned mockingly, speaking a little louder than necessary and clearly having trouble holding back his laughter.
"You realize those shoes don't match those pants, right?" I tossed back, receiving a sarcastic smile. Hey, you opened the door to this bashing contest, asshole.
"I was just wondering if you were still going to Jess' party tonight…?"
"And you need a ride?" I finished his question for him, knowing he wouldn't just ask a random question out of nowhere. I didn't wait for his confirmation. "What happened to your car?"
"My cousins are in town, and my mom's making me lend them my car," he explained, scowling at the memory. "So yeah, do you mind, Sarah?"
"Not at all. Nine sound good to you?"
"Perfect, thanks! And, you know, I wasn't kidding about the fool thing," he added with a grin, stepping back from my window.
"And I wasn't kidding about the shoes, Cam," I replied sweetly, watching as he looked down to examine his outfit. I laughed.
He looked up, his wavy blonde hair flipping as he did so. Wordlessly, he tapped my car again, before pointing in front of it. "You blind, Sarah?"
I looked forward, only to see that the line was, in fact, gone, and I was now holding everyone up.
A car honked. Thanks, Cam!
Switching the car into drive, I took off down the road, following my habitual route home. And, of course, all while dancing to music. I know; I'm skilled. My dancing stopped, however, the second I turned onto my street. I could see smoke coming from my house, and flames flickering through the windows. Cursing, I parked the car right on the side of the road, hopping out and looking at the damage.
Had I left the stove on or something? I racked my brain, trying to remember if there was any reason my parents could possibly blame me for this. And that's when it hit me… My parents would have been home when the fire started.
"Mom! Dad!" I shouted out the second everything clicked in my head. And then I did the one thing that everyone tells you not to do; I ran toward the house, still calling for my parents. I know; I was supposed to go stand by the mailbox, call 911, and then wait at our 'family meeting place' for the firemen to get there. But, you know, I was a little preoccupied.
"Shit! Mom, can you hear me? Dad, are you home?" I called as I picked up the pace, having only just processed the cars in the driveway.
"Duck!" A voice from behind me shouted, but instead of just blindly obeying the order, I turned to see who had called out, like any normal person would do. And, before I could even see who had shouted, the loudest sound I had ever heard filled my ears.
I didn't remember everything, but I knew that one minute I was looking for whoever had shouted, and the next, I was lying on the ground coughing and shaking. Quickly, I tried to get up, but I was forced back down to the ground by a strong arm.
"Do you not have any survival instincts at all?" a voice hissed in my ear, obviously belonging to the person who had told me to duck.
"But my parents-" I objected, pushing against the arm holding me down.
"Are fine!" he snapped, his arm around me shifting so that I was held against him. I, of course, wasn't going to just sit there, but before I could do anything, I had my hands covering my ears again.
Why the hell were there explosions?
"Okay, move, now!" the voice ordered, and this time the arm around my waist was lifting me from the ground and pulling me forward. Angrily, I tried once again to free myself from his grip, only to find that he was entirely too strong. So, I did the next logical thing to do when someone saves your life; I kicked out, shouted, and thrashed around.
What, would you have done something different?
"Hold still, damn it!" he shouted, before stopping momentarily.
"Good, now I demand that you release me," I stated authoritatively, having assumed that he had reached the realization that he should listen to me.
Apparently he hadn't, for the very next second, I was tossed over his shoulder as he continued walking away.
"Hey!" I shouted again, raising my fist and hurling it down to his back. Only, when my hand collided with his back, it was as if I had hurled it against the door to an elevator. "Ow!" I cried out in pain, quickly cradling my right hand with my left.
"I told you to hold still," my captor responded, and from his tone I was able to detect a hint of amusement. That, my friends, is so not cool.
Pissed, I raised my other fist and tried once again to slam it to his back, only to cry out in pain just like before. "Damn it!" I shouted, now nursing two hands that hurt like hell.
"Aren't you a bright one?" Oh, I could feel the amusement just radiating off of him, and that had me raising my fist again. But this time, I didn't slam it down, finally having learned from the previous two times. Instead, I resorted to questions.
"Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
"How much longer 'til we get there?"
"A while." What the hell was with the mysterious answers?
"Okay then, who are you?"
"You'll find out later." Fantastic.
"What do you want with me?"
"You'll see." Even better.
"Where are my parents?"
"They're safe, that's all you need to know." Bullshit.
"How do you know that?"
"I just do, okay?"
"Did you plan all of this?"
"Don't worry about it." Pshh. As if.
"Have you been to see a psychiatrist lately?"
"I'd advise you to not insult me."
"Do you know what time it is?"
"No, and I don't care." I frowned, and, having run out of questions, I circled back to my first ones, which were, by far, the most pressing ones.
"Where are you taking me?"
"You already asked that question."
"How much longer?"
"Two minutes less than when you asked two minutes ago."
"Who the hell are you?"
"Did you know that curiosity killed the cat?" he said venomously, clearly having reached the limit of his tolerance for questions.
"Did you know that cats have nine lives?" I retorted, but decided it would be in my best interest not to continue with the questions. Lazily, I just relaxed, somewhat, and watched the back of my captor, since that was really the only thing I could see from the position I was held in.
It was actually not nearly as awkward as I would have assumed. One would think that randomly being saved by a guy and then taken captive by the same guy would be a pretty awkward situation… but I guess when you're living it, it just isn't awkward for some reason.
"You're still awake," he commented after what seemed like hours.
Well of course I was; if I fell asleep, I risked missing an opportunity to escape.
"You know, Princess, you might as well just go to sleep, we've still got a ways longer," he said, his tone full of mockery as he called me 'princess'.
"So, it's ransom you're after, then?" I asked, already knowing that his motive was not money. It would make him talk, however, and then I might be able to figure out what his real motive was. Then, of course, it would be that much easier to escape.
"No," he answered simply, as if he had been aware of my plan all along.
"Because I'll let you know right now—my parents aren't rich. Sure, they'll give you everything they own to get me back, but you won't make a huge profit. It would be much smarter to kidnap someone else," I pressed on as if he hadn't spoken, still trying to get some actual sentences out of him.
"Wrong, right, wrong, and wrong."
It took me a moment to figure out he was speaking of my last statements, and even when I cracked that minor puzzle, I found myself in even more confusion then before.
"No… my parents definitely are not rich…" I started, figuring that if I went step by step for him, he'd then understand, "unless you count a simple two story house and two used cars as rich..."
"Wrong, Princess," he said, his tone growing more annoyed by the second, "and I already told you I'm not looking for ransom, anyway, so drop the questions."
"Can you stop mocking me? I do have a name, you know!" I snapped back at him, angrily hitting him in the back again. Of course, this wasn't a smart action at all, and all I ended up with was a very sore hand.
"I'm not mocking you, Princess," he said, emphasizing the title he'd decided to give me, probably because he knew it'd piss me off.
"You know what? We're both reasonable human beings…" I started, taking all of my patience and forcing my tone to be relatively calm. He only chuckled darkly, clearly disagreeing with me. I, however, took the high road and ignored him. "How about we compromise? You can call me 'Princess,' if you let me down so I can at least walk."
"No can do," he said in a fake apologetic tone, "you'd only try and run away. Which, even though it would be completely unsuccessful, would still be a waste of my time."
Damn. Why'd he have to realize that?
"No, I won't try to run away, because that would just be a waste of my energy," I stated matter-of-factly, before pausing for a moment. "Seriously, do you know how uncomfortable this is?"
"No, actually, I don't, but I'm guessing it's very uncomfortable. Regardless, you're not walking."
"Fine, fine, fine…" I huffed, realizing he wouldn't be giving in to that particular compromise. "Can you at least tell me your name?"
He was silent for a moment, as if he had to think over whether or not it'd be a good idea. I mean, what could I possibly find out from a simple name that would actually help me? Especially because I doubted he'd even give me a last name.
"Logan," he finally answered, though he still sounded like he hadn't wanted to give his name.
"Well, Logan. Nice to meet you," I said sarcastically. "Do you come here often?"
He just ignored my comment, and continued walking.
"Seriously, how much longer?" I asked again, trying unsuccessfully to stretch out.
"Can you just stay quiet for like ten minutes?" he asked grumpily. Obviously, someone needed a hug.
"My back is killing me!" I complained, attempting yet again to stretch out and relieve some of the pain.
But before I could do that, I was suddenly removed from Logan's shoulder, and instead slammed into the trunk of a tree. With the bark poking sharply at me, I winced.
"If you don't shut up, I'm going to be what's killing you," he warned in a low, threatening tone. I had the feeling he wasn't entirely bluffing, but that didn't keep me from trying to respond.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I never got a chance to say anything. I was greeted by darkness.
This little story popped into my head as I was sitting there trying to write more chapters for Freedom in Structure, so I had to pause with that and write this down. Technically it's a story from a long time ago, but I decided I'd post it and see if anyone was interested. Let me know what you guys think; Vampire stories really aren't my thing, but, again, the idea came to me.