This is Madison’s Story, and picks up where the “Stood Up” cliffhanger left off. I recommend reading it first.
My captor’s arm was steel around my stomach, trapping both of my arms at my side. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I wanted to laugh through my fear at the clichéd line.
If you’re overpowered, the best way to escape is to fake surrender. Make them believe they’ve won. John’s words echoed from a lesson taught long ago.
I ceased my kicks, pretending the words soothed me. The kidnapper dragged me deeper into the darkness and I counted to ten, forcing my racing heart to calm and my muscles to relax.
I imagined my body a wet noodle.
Be patient. Their guard will drop.
The arms slackened almost imperceptibly.
Attack. Quickly. Without hesitation. The eye, the nose, or the groin.
I thrust my head backwards with as much force as I could muster, hoping to break the nose.
It thudded somewhere on the shoulder, missing the face completely.
Laughter, dark and deep, echoed. “Your aim still sucks.”
“We’re going to have to work on that, Mav.” The arms released me and spun me around.
Black clothing covered all but his head, and he blended perfectly into the alleyway. The whites of his eyes floated in the black, the only part lacking camouflage.
“What, no hug for the dead guy?”
The words snapped my paralysis as I channeled my frustrations, fears, and anger into my right arm. My palm collided with his face, the loud smack sending reverberations through the alley.
His silhouette twisted with the ricochet before facing me again. “So a kiss is out of the question?”
“You asshole!” I exploded, my fingers clenched as I pounded his chest and abdomen, seeking a weak spot. “I thought you were dead!”
He stood silent as my fists flew, my hands already aching from the blows.
“I went to your funeral! I cried for you!”
“I’m sorry, Mav.”
His pet name opened an old wound. “My name is Madison. Not Mav.”
“You’ll always be Mav to me.”
“I should shove your cryptic postcard down your throat. I’m supposed to b-be having s-s-sex right now.” My words transformed into sobs as my energy died.
“I can fix that problem.”
“Don’t make me laugh. I’m pissed at you.”
“I wasn’t joking. I have very fond memories of this alleyway.”
The cool brick pressed into my exposed back. My skirt twisted around my waist as my legs wrapped around his, the delicious smells of Guido’s traveling out the back door.
The same smells danced in the air, the night teasing us. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting a few.” He leaned closer. “I’ve missed you, Mav.”
His lips were hot against mine, consuming my protest.
I savored his familiar taste for moment, drinking in my youth before jerking my knee up.
He shifted at the last moment and I barely grazed him, earning me a string of curses as he stumbled away, instead of dropping to the ground as planned. “Jesus, Mav! What the hell!”
“I have a life, John. A boyfriend. I’m happy. I don’t hear from you except for phone calls and emails for five years. Five damn years. You cannot just swoop in here and have me dropping my pants five minutes after kidnapping me off the damn street!”
“Mav, I -”
“You decided to end us. You left me here. Then you have a heart attack and die. I go to your funeral and say good-bye forever. Forever! A week later your damn unspecific postcard shows up and I drop everything because I think you might be in serious trouble. I lie to my boyfriend because you said tell no one, and then you stand me up! I label myself all kinds of idiot and leave, only to have you scare the hell out of me by kidnapping me!”
“Look, I di-”
“Tell me what the fuck is going on, John.” The cloak of night brought the courage I needed.
“I never sent you a postcard.”
This week, we want fightin’ words.
Write a piece about a fight. What happened? Why? Who “won”? What were the repercussions?
Show us. Use emotion. Description. If it’s a fist fight, what did it feel like to hit someone – or be hit? What does it feel like to be screamed at – or get the silent treatment?
This can be fiction or non-fiction. Your choice. Word limit is 600 words.
This is still a little rough. A constantly waking sick 19 month has caused a bit of sleep deprivation. Concrit welcomed!