I know the story is short so far, but I've already started writing the next part and it should be out soon. In case the pictures don't work for you, here is the text version:



I didn’t dare open my eyes. The hit to the head likely made me blind anyways. I need to get out. They deactivated my clip, I think anyways.  Soft carpet brushes against my cheek, and the air feels heavy. At least they think I passed out. At least they think they’re in control.


Well, actually, they kind of are at the moment. The driver lurches backwards, and speeds out of the parking. Obviously he’s never heard of keeping a low profile. But why would it matter? We’re in the middle of nowhere anyways. I’m lost they’re not. I’m trapped, they’re not. They have guns, I don’t. Looks like I’m not winning so far. I can hear the dirt crunching away at the tires, the driver whispering to the passenger, the one who knocked me out.


It’s not every day that a person gets smacked in the head with a pistol. Then falls onto a floor made out of bulletproof material. Then the floor. Then the trunk when they threw me in. Even though some of the pain went away, my head is still throbbing and my headache shows no signs of going away. Plus my shirt is drenched in blood.


 I open my eyes. Everything is a blur, but I can make out a rope tied to my feet. It’s tight, and I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed it before. Great. They must have tied it while I was actually passed out. Oh and they also tied the hand rope to my feet, so I can’t try to bite the rope off. Looks like they’ve heard that I’m clever with escaping.  I honestly don’t think there is any way I can escape now. Looks like I’m going to wherever they’ve been trying to take me for so long.


 


They’ve been trying to take me for four years.