My eyes open slowly and it takes all of two seconds to realize that they're still covered and there's a gag in my mouth. I try to move my hands, in the hopes that I can get this damn thing off and figure out where the hell I am.
Unfortunately, my captor was smart enough to tie my hands behind my back.
It's not cold, but it's not particularly warm either, and I'm almost certain I'm not still in a moving vehicle. I've lost two of my main senses and this is so not looking good for me.
I inhale deeply and the scent of vanilla fills my nose. Gross. I don't know why, but it's one of those smells that's always turned my stomach. It's just... too sweet. And gives no indication of where the fuck I am.
Wherever I am, it's quiet. Dead silent, to be exact. You could hear a pin drop in here.
Part of the problem could also be the fact that I'm still under the influence of whatever this psycho drugged me with. My memories of the attack are pretty fuzzy and I feel a little loopy.
As far as I can tell, I'm still dressed in my work clothes, I don't feel any pain and don't seem to be bleeding. All good signs, right?
Someone has to be looking for me. I mean... granted, I don't have any concept of time at the moment, but somebody, somewhere, has to be wondering where I am. I'd like to think my co-workers would be slightly concerned if I didn't return from lunch, but with them, there's really no telling. They aren't the brightest crayons in the box, if you catch my drift.
Suddenly, everything seems to happen at once. A door opens and shuts, a man clears his throat and there's a squeaking sound directly in front me, like someone sitting down on an old, rickety couch.
"If you promise not to scream, I'll take the gag and blindfold off."
I nod, noticing just how heavy my head feels. Warm hands slide the gag down around my throat and my first reaction is to scream as loudly as humanly possible, but I value my life just a tad too much for that. The blindfold is removed soon after and I blink rapidly, my eyes trying to adjust to the bright lights.
Once my vision clears, my eyes land on the man sitting across from me.
Holy fucking shit.
"Look... if this is payback for bumping into you at the diner... I said I was sorry. It was an accident dude. Honestly. People run into each other all the time, no need to get all-"
"You really think I'm crazy enough to kidnap you because you ran into me?"
"In a word... yes. Kidnapping itself, implies insanity."
"Well, I'm not crazy." He sighs sadly.
Alright... this has to be some elaborate joke. I'll bet Curtis set this whole thing up and he's going to jump out from behind some door and yell "boo" or something equally as cheesy.
I will say this though, the guy doesn't look like your typical psychopath. He's dressed nicely, clean cut, mildly attractive.
But, I guess those are the types you have to watch out for... the unsuspecting ones. The crazy people who don't look like crazy people.
"You're not crazy... yet, you've bound, gagged and drugged me. There's something in there that doesn't quite add up to you not being a fucking nutcase."
I really haven't got the slightest clue how I'm staying so calm, how I'm rationally discussing all of this with him. It's gotta be the drugs.
"Alright... just calm down, and hear me out... ok?"
"Calm down? CALM DOWN? I'm fucking tied up like some god damn animal, and you want me to CALM THE FUCK DOWN?"
"Fine... freak out... just listen, can you atleast do that?"
"No! I want to know who the hell you are... where am I? Why are you doing this? Why-"
"Jesus woman!" He shouts angrily and I can't help but jump as he lunges toward me. "Don't you ever shut the fuck up?"
The blow I was expecting doesn't come. Instead, he pulls the make-shift gag back around my mouth, then eases back into his seat.
Well... this is just fantastic.
"This is going to sound real fucked up... I know that, ok? I know I should probably be locked away in a padded cell somewhere, but I swear... I'm not crazy."
I shake my head in disagreement and he simply rolls his eyes.
I mean, c'mon man... how can you claim to be of sound mind, when you've got some random girl tied up on your floor? Even the craziest of crazies wouldn't dispute their sanity at this point.
"I come from a really big family. Like, unreasonably huge. And they all think their shit don't stink. They're all married, or engaged, with perfect little houses and perfect little kids. Being a Timberlake, it's like... a rule of thumb that you grow up, get married to someone as perfect as you think you are, then you pop out a bunch of wonderful little shitheads, and live happily ever after."
Timberlake.
Timberlake?
I know that name. I don't know how... but I know it.
"I'm... well... I'm the exception, or the failure... depending on who you ask. 26, not married, or even remotely close to it, no desire to have children... there's gotta be something wrong with me, right?"
Oh Jesus fucking Christ....he's kidnapped me to make me his... his wife? Am I in the god damn twilight zone?
And why the hell hasn't Curtis popped up somewhere yet? The longer it takes him to appear, the more I start to believe that this is actually happening.
"I think I'm perfectly fine, ya know? I mean really... is there some law that says you have to be married before 30? My dickhead brother seems to think so. But, he also thinks I'm gay, so fuck him."
Yeah... he's not sounding crazy at all, is he?
I'm sure he thinks his little monologue is supposed to make him look like the poster child for the sane, but he's kind of just screwing himself. If I hadn't thought he was a whack job before, I sure as hell would now.
"Anyway... my sister is getting married in three days. In three days, I'll become the only member of my family over the age of 20 who isn't married, and believe me... when I go home alone, I'm gonna get ten tons of shit for it. That's where you come in."
Maybe I'm the crazy one. Because I am so not seeing the logic in any of this.
Your family shits on you because you're not married, so you commit a felony? Right... makes perfect sense. So silly of me to not understand.
"I'm taking you the wedding. You'll pretend to be my girlfriend, and that'll keep them off my back for a few days. I mean really... this is supposed to be my sister's big day...so as long I keep everybody happy... it'll stay that way."
Oh hell no.
Hell fucking no.
I shake my head furiously and he sighs before leaning over to remove the gag.
"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?" I scream. "Ask a woman out for Christ sake! Get a hooker! Something... anything! Anything but this!"
"Yeah right... "hey, I don't know you, but I need a date for my sister's wedding?" Any normal chick would run screaming in the other direction after that. And there's no way in hell I'm taking a hooker to my sister's wedding. Just... please? I'm fucking desperate here, and I swear... I'm a good guy. I just... please?"
"No. No fucking way. Absolutely not."
"Honestly Ellie... what choice do you have? You're kind of at my mercy here."
How... how the hell does he know my name?
"I went through your bag. Figured I should probably know who I kidnapped." He chuckles nervously and shakes his head.
"You're... you're fucking certifiable. I don't think they make strait jackets tight enough for people like you! There is no way in hell I'm doing this, so you can just let me go right now."
"Afraid not. I do that, you'll go straight the police. And if I'm gonna go to jail... I'm getting something out of it first."
"Alright whacko. You may get me to this wedding... but I'm gonna tell everybody exactly what you did, then they're all gonna know that you're a fucking psycho. You think you got a bunch of shit for being single? Something tells me kidnapping ain't gonna go over so well with the family."
"Well, let's think about it this way... they know and trust me. They don't know you at all... I'm kinda thinking they'll believe me before they believe you." He shrugs and leans over again, putting the gag firmly back in place.
Seriously?
How the hell is this my life?
