AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you so much for even *looking* at my story even if you just wanted to see what it's about. ^.^ This is an original story written by yours truly. Please don't judge the story by it's title. Oh! And if you can think of a better title, or have any *constructive criticisms* (i.e.: "You should explain [part] some more. It was a bit confusing.") then please write it in a review (please do not e-mail me unless it is extremely important!). This story is copyrighted (see end for more info).

*~!~* © 2002 Night Hawk *~!~*


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As I walk along the same path as always, I think about how I'm going to explain to my mom why I'm home so early when I said I was going to my friend Lindsay's house after school. My thoughts then jump to my newest fantasy about having an older brother who I was taken from when I was little. My family isn't so bad I guess, I say to myself in my head, but sometimes I wish I had someone who would understand my need to be different and follow my own beliefs. I walk down the same alley I do everyday. My mother always told me never to walk there cause someone could easily attack me and no one would see it. Mothers always say things like that, but they hardly ever come true... and those that do happen to people in other big cities like Toronto or Kitchener-Waterloo. Not in a little town like Guelph, Ontario.
Suddenly I'm grabbed from behind and pulled into the back of a van. As soon as I'm in the truck my captures cover my eyes so I can't see.
"Don't worry Sara, we won't hurt you. You're too important to us for us to hurt you." An older man's voice says from the front of the van. "Warren, is she the one?"
"Yes Derrick, she's the one." The boy in the back with me named Warren replies. From the sound of his voice I wouldn't think him much older than me, 16 or 17 perhaps. And he didn't really sound like a bad guy. Then again, I've never heard a bad guy speak other than in movies. Warren... where have I heard that voice before. There was a Warren in my karate class last year! Is that who this is? I decide to ask.
"Warren?" I say nervously.
"So you can talk huh?" says the voice up front.
"What would you like?" Warren replies coldly.
"Um... Did you ever take karate?"
"Yes, why?"
"I just thought I recognized your voice from somewhere." I finish lamely. Silence filled the next few minutes until Warren finally said:
"I was in your Karate class for a few months, until I got kicked out for punching someone too hard."
"Damien."
"Yeah."
"Why were you in my karate class?"
"I'd been there about a year, practicing karate mainly," he then whispers in my ear, "But it was also to spy on you... figure out what you're like."
"Why?" I ask in a hushed voice barely above a whisper.
The van jerks to a halt and I hit my head on the floor. Warren asks if I'm okay with the smallest hint of concern. I hardly hear it, but it's there. I say I'm fine and then get picked up off the floor of the van and blindly get lead down some sort of hall I guess by the length of time it takes us to walk before we go through a door...

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END NOTE: You like? Yes? If yes you tell me with 'Review', yes? If you no like you tell me with 'Review' and I write no more okay? Okay! Mesa leavinsa now. Byesa! (Mesa Jar Jar Binks!)

Night Hawk





COPYRIGHT: These characters and the story they are in is hereby copyrighted by Night Hawk in this, the year of 2002. Under no authority, other than Night Hawk herself, are they to be reproduced elsewhere. If you see these characters (not just the names, the actual characters. Duh! I mean think peoplez!) or this story (or a story very very *VERY* similar) reproduced in part, or whole anywhere other than this FanFiction.net forum or Night Hawk's homepage, please e-mail Night Hawk at night_hawk_2005@hotmail.com with the EXACT web address that you found it at and she will look at the site to see whether or not she will act upon it. If you would like to post this story on your webpage, please e-mail Night Hawk (night_hawk_2005@hotmail.com) with YOUR exact web address and she will let you know. Thank you for your co-operation.