“Here… this… and….this.” Justin smiles proudly as he holds up a pair of black dress pants and gray blouse.

Lovely. I get to spend more time in clothes that look exactly like my work clothes. Yeah, that’ll be fun. I guess I should just be happy that they at least match.

“Fine.” I mutter as I snatch the clothes away from him and stomp into the bathroom.

As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, I have yet to find a way out of this looney bin. And, not at all surprising, I’ve been on an even more hardcore lock down since the incident this afternoon.

Turns out, giving Trace a bloody nose didn’t go over so well. Who’dve thunk it?

I have to admit, I actually feel kind of bad for Christy. Mostly because if I do manage to get the hell out of here, it has the potential to completely ruin her wedding.

I mean, call me crazy… but something tells me no one would be too happy if one of the groomsmen gets sent to the slammer.

So basically, I have a decision to make. I can play nice, and spare this totally innocent woman, who’s been nothing but nice to me, or try to get the fuck out of here and risk ruining the wedding.

It’s kind of a toss up at this point.

“You ready yet? We gotta go.”

“Coming.” I jerk the door open and stumble out into the hallway. I’m fairly certain the shoes Justin got me are at least a size too big, so this should make tonight all sorts of interesting.

“Forget how to walk?” He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Actually smartass, these shoes are too big. Thanks for that, by the way. I look like Bambi learning to walk for the first time.”

“Eh… you’ll survive. Let’s go.” He grins and jogs down the stairs.

If there is a god… I’m sure he’s sitting up there somewhere laughing at me.

*****************************

Call me crazy, but I don’t quite get the concept of a rehearsal dinner. I mean, I get the whole practicing the ceremony at the church bit, but does everyone really need to eat together afterwards?

Mostly, I think it’s just an excuse to spend money and get the wedding party good and hammered before the actual wedding.

Everybody knows the only way to survive a wedding is with a nice, brutal hangover. At least, I think so anyway.

And that’s something else that’s been bugging the shit out of me… I’m not in the wedding party, so why the hell do I even have to be here tonight?

Oh, that’s right! I’m here because I’m a fucking hostage.

I know I don’t exactly have a normal victim type attitude toward all of this, but I guess the fact that I have yet to land myself in any physical danger has given me that luxury.

Granted, I’m well aware of the fact that Justin could snap at any moment, bury me alive in his backyard, and no one would ever find me, but if he hasn’t killed me yet, I’m starting to think he never will.

I mean, maybe he is exactly what he claimed. A lonely, desperate guy who couldn’t find any other way out. People are prone to pure insanity when they’re in a panic, and maybe that’s what this is.

Maybe he just panicked.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not going soft or anything, but I guess in some weird way, I kinda feel bad for the guy. It’s plain to see that every member of his family is a raving lunatic, I guess it’s only natural he’d develop his own brand of crazy.

“I’d like to make a toast…” Harold taps his fork against his champagne glass and smiles once every pair of eyes in the room is focused on him. “First, I’d like to thank all of our friends and family who are here tonight. Seeing everyone here to support my little girl and the man she loves, means more to me than you can imagine.”

As Harold continues his speech, bragging about how wonderful Christy was as a child, her various accomplishments, meeting her fiancé, planning their wedding, I can’t help but notice the way Justin fidgets in his seat and rolls his eyes.

Ya know… the more weird shit I see with this family, the more I think the problem is Justin’s relationship with his father. The two hardly speak to each other, and when they do, it usually ends in some kind of argument.

If I’ve been able to pick up on that within a couple of days, I can only imagine what some of these other crackpots think.

For a second, let’s pretend that Justin isn’t a complete nut job, and I’m here of my own free will. That’s a tough one, I know… but, for the sake of argument….

Justin isn’t a bad guy. He seems to genuinely care about his family, his little sister adores him, his older sister sticks up for him. Sure, his brother’s kind of an asshole, but I’m sure if the shit really hit the fan, Brady would be right there to defend him.

Hell, even Grandpa admitted he liked him, and that guy hates pretty much everybody.

Then, there’s Trace… who is willing to quite possibly go to jail in order to help his best friend.

If that many people care about him, obviously the guy can’t be too terrible.

He’s got a good job, I’m assuming he pays his bills. On the surface, he seems like a fairly normal guy.

So why the hell are his parents convinced he’s a complete and total failure, just because he didn’t live his life the way they wanted him to?

I don’t get it. I really, really don’t.

“So, in closing…” Harold clears his throat and I’m immediately snapped back to reality. “Christy and Jeremy… I wish the best for you both. I must admit, it makes me sad to think that this will be our last family wedding, at least for the next 20 years or so, until Maggie finds the man of her dreams.” He chuckles as the entire room laughs along with him.

I’m not defending Justin or anything, but that was a pretty fucking low blow.

Suddenly, Justin shoves his chair back from the table and storms out of the rec hall. Can’t say I blame him, really.

I excuse myself politely and head in the same direction. It doesn’t take me long to find him outside, planted on the concrete steps.

Now would probably be a good time to learn to keep my mouth in check, because if I say the wrong thing, Justin looks like he’d have no problem ripping me limb from limb and feeding the pieces to his dog.

I ease down next to him and he doesn’t so much as glance in my direction. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do here. On one hand, yes… I feel bad for him. But on the other, he’s holding me captive, and well… there’s only so much sympathy you can muster up for a criminal who’s violating your civil rights.

“So… rehearsal dinners are… fun.” I offer weakly.

Justin doesn’t even crack a smile. “You know what Ellie… just go. You’re off the hook. There’s a police station a couple miles down the road… just go, press charges. Whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

Ok, that’s a flat out lie. But, sometimes you gotta lie to cheer people up, and…

Holy fucking shit… did he just say I could leave?

“He did.” He rolls his eyes. “But it doesn’t matter. Nothing I do is gonna be good enough and trying to impress him with you was fucking pointless. Get out of here Ellie. Tell the cops who my parents are, they’ll know where to find me.”

“Really?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding? Just go.”

“Oh…um… ok. Well, uh… thanks… for not murdering me or anything.” I smile awkwardly. He waves me off as he stands up and heads back inside.

Jesus Christ… I’m free.

I have no idea where I am, but I’m free, and that’s all that matters. I’ll find the police station, they’ll take me home and that’ll be the end of this whole mess.

I can’t fucking believe it.

I make my way out of the dimly lit parking lot and quickly find the main road. There isn’t a single person or car in sight, but I can see bright lights a little ways ahead and I’m taking that as a good sign.

Now, I’ve got to admit… I thought this whole freedom thing would be a little more… exciting, I guess is the right word. Roughly 24 hours ago, I imagined this very same moment and could clearly see myself dancing down the street, or something equally as awkward.

Instead, and for reasons completely beyond me, I feel kind of… well… bad.

I’m slowly but surely beginning to see the things Justin said his father was, and in this really fucked up way, I almost understand why he did what he did.

Everybody wants their parents approval, and I guess some people are more desperate for it than others. And that’s what this whole thing was about. Justin wanted his father’s approval so badly, he was willing to do whatever it took to get it.

I just wish he would have found a more conventional way to do it.

I walk for what feels like an eternity, thanks in large part to these stupid ass shoes, before I finally come to a halt in front of the police station.

Pressing charges is the right thing to do… right?

I mean, my feeling a tiny bit of sympathy for the psycho doesn’t change the fact that he committed a felony. He deserves some type of punishment for the things he’s done in the last 72 hours.

But… you could almost argue that being stuck with that kooky ass family is punishment enough.

“Ma’am… can I help you?”

I jump slightly and look up to find an office staring at me curiously.

Well, this is it. Moment of truth and all that jazz.

“Umm… yeah, actually.” I swallow hard and pray that what I’m about to say doesn’t sound as crazy as it does in my head. “I was… I… I’m looking for the rec hall. I’m supposed to be at a rehearsal dinner and I’m running late.”

It’s official, I’m more whacked out of my mind than every member of the Timberlake clan put together.

“Oh… it’s just down that way.” The officer smiles at me as he points in the direction I just came from. “It’s about a five minute drive from here.”

“Thanks.” I nod and quickly turn to head back down the street.

Go ahead and say it. I’m a total sap. I’m a chicken shit. I have no form of a backbone what so ever.

I’ll agree with you wholeheartedly.

Or maybe lack of contact with sane people has given me brain damage. Crazy can be contagious, right?

I finally trek back to the rec hall and take a deep breath before heading inside the building. Something tells me I’m probably going to regret this, but seeing as how I’ve already lied to a cop, I’m kind of stuck here.

“What the hell…”

“We’re the same height… you make a scene… and I will take you down. They probably won’t even notice that you’re gone.”

“Hey… calm your ass down…” Trace laughs and shakes his head. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re back. Justin said you were going to the cops because his stupid ass told you to.”

“Yeah, well… I didn’t. So I expect a little more appreciation for that fact.”

“Hey… I’m not complaining. Anyway… Justin went home to wait for the cops. I’m ready to head out, so… I guess I can drop you off?” I nod in response and follow Trace out of the rec hall.

Here’s an unsurprising little factoid for you… he drives like a god damn lunatic. Waits until the last second to hit the brakes, tailgates like a mother fucker and takes turns like he’s in the Indy 500.

And I thought being kidnapped was scary.

As soon as he comes to a screeching halt in front of the house, I practically fly out of the car in an attempt to put as much distance between myself and Trace’s death mobile of horror as humanly possible.

I enter the house to find it completely dark and eerily silent. Justin is seated on the couch, staring off into space and doesn’t acknowledge me until I clear my throat.

“Ellie? What the hell are you doing here? Did you bring the cops?”

“Umm… well… no.” I sigh and plop down next to him. “I went to the station… even talked to a cop, and… I lied.” I shrug as his eyes widen. “Don’t look at me like that… I didn’t do it for you.”

Hmm… looks like I’m getting pretty crafty with this lying thing. Not really sure if that’s a good or bad thing though.

“Wha… why? I mean… hello… crazy guy kidnaps you… you’re given an opportunity to escape, go to the cops even, and you come back? Are we sure I’m the psycho here, cause really… Not getting this. At all.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your sisters wedding. You’re in the damn thing, for Christ sake. Everybody knows it’s impossible to find a groomsman this late in the game. So, after the wedding… you’ll let me go, and I’ll press charges. It’s all quite simple.”

“Got it all worked out, don’t ya?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Fine. Ellie… if that’s what you want… that’s fine. Thank you for not ruining the wedding. I’m sure Christy will appreciate it.”

“Eh well…whatever. I’m going to bed.” I mutter and move to make my way upstairs.

Yep. I am as much of a fucking nutcase as anyone in this family.