Here is my first story. I have bad grammar, and bad spelling. Beware.


I was cold. My body was covered in Goosebumps, and I was shivering. My whole body was acing. I looked down to see a puddle of blood sitting there. All my blood. I felt light headed. I looked up into my kidnappers face. The shadows covered half his face. All you could see was right below his eye, his cheeks, his chin, and his mouth.

I slumped down. My knees were giving out. I would have fallen if I wasn't tied to the pole.

I turn back to the boy. He is smiling an evil grin. Eviler then the devil himself. He enjoyed torturing me. I was going to kick him where the sun doesn't shine, but I couldn't. My feet are tied up. He is looking at me like he would like to kiss me. I look away from him.

"Look at me." He said in a steady tone. He is trying to control me for the past few weeks. I hope help comes, or I might not make it out alive. I didn't turn and look at him. He slaps me across the face with his hand. Lucky for me, it is the hand holding the knife. A new scratch mark. I want to scream because of the pain, but I knew better. It would make this sick man smile.

I'm tired, but couldn't go to sleep. My body is fighting to stay awake. I knew if I went to sleep, I might never wake up. I had to stand up for what I believe in. I can't let a monster kill me.

He grabs my face aggressively making it face him. I try to move away, but he won't let me. He holds on to it and leans in. I feel his lips touch mine. I hate it. I pull away, and I slam my head into his. If I'm going to die, I might as well die fighting.

He stumbles backwards and falls. He looks angry. He stands up holding his head. I know my head is supposed to hurt, but it doesn't. It doesn't want to cause me anymore pain. He looks at me in the eye and yells.

"You messed up my kissing time." He is furious. Everything starts to get fuzzy.

"You have had too much kissing time." I spat at him. I hear the doorbell and knocking. My kidnapper never opens the door. I hear it open and break something. Something wooden. Footsteps come along with a million feet stepping on the ground making it sound like thunder.

My kidnapper looks at me with anger in his eyes. He hits my bare belly with his knife. I almost scream in pain, but I don't have the energy. The blood pours down my belly. The door to the basement opens. I see a bright light. It looks too far away, but I know better. Something runs swiftly down the stairs. Before the thing can get to me, everything goes black.

Do you like it? What I did was pulled something out of the story. Take it as a sneak peak.

Quote of the week: Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.