Chapter twoMature

                I was on my way home from work, walking towards my apartment with my headphones on not caring about the world. Next thing I knew I couldn’t see, I think I passed out. When I woke I found myself tied to a chair, hands behind my back. I should have taken those anonymous emails more seriously, I thought that some idiot low life was just playing mind games with me. I guess I was wrong. I panicked, not knowing what to do.

                I felt as if the walls were about to crush me, but nothing happened. I could hear the faint sound of a television outside my prison. I could smell food too, roasted chicken to be exact. Whoever this creep was, he was teasing me. It was all happening right outside the room I was confined in. I could see the light beneath the door, shadows moving across occasionally.

                Then I heard the sound of a door being broken down, and fighting. I wanted to know what was going on. I didn’t have to wait long as the door to my room burst open, and they started fighting again. There were two men; the first was tall and lanky, he looked almost old enough to be my dad. The second was aggressive, he looked younger. He managed to lock the older one in a stronghold and forced him to release me. The older guy gave him a key, and he kicked him in the head before he could move. He rushed over to me, ‘are you okay?’

                I nodded, ‘just get me out of here.’

He looked at me with slight annoyance.

                ‘Sorry, I mean, thank you. That was really brave of you.’

‘That wasn’t so hard now was it? You’re free now, call your family or something and let them know you’re safe.’

I nodded again, ‘how did you even know that I was here?’

He hesitated, ‘I saw you walking and I noticed that he was following you, so I followed.’

‘And it took you this long to rescue me?!’

‘Sorry, I had to keep my distance and come up with a plan too you know.’

‘Well thanks, again. Hey you’re that guy from the café, with the laptop!’

He looked embarrassed, ‘Yeah, I’ve seen you there a few times too.’

‘You have? What do you do in there?’

‘I write, or try to at least. I’m a freelance writer.’

‘Oh, that sounds… interesting. Anyway I better be heading home.’

‘Need a lift? Just to be safe?’

‘Um, yeah, sure.’

He smiled.

He drove a white Ford sedan, which was bit old and smelled as if he’d been living in it. As I was about to get out of the car he said that we should grab coffee sometime and asked for my number. I told him that I was sure we’d meet again at the café and that we could get coffee then.

The End

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