“Would you at least tell me what you need?!”
“I need you.” At this, I was shocked, but I don’t stun easily.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked this warily. My mind started branching off different ideas of why he might have said that, and what he meant or intended to do.
“I mean I need you to come with me.” I might have imagined it, but I think I heard desperation in his voice. He didn’t look at me, just at carpeted floor.
“And you think I would willingly go with you?” I asked.
He looked at me and said, “No, that’s why I have to persuade you. Do you really want to know what happened to Lela that night she disappeared?” I froze. Nobody talked about Lela around me; they knew it was torture for me.
I clenched my hands into fists and glared at him. Of course I wanted to know. But that’s just what he wanted. I glanced at the time: 12:26.
“Where would you be taking me?”
“Somewhere no one can know about.” I took a step back, and, before I knew it, he had my arms behind my back. He pulled something out of his jeans pocket and I felt a needle being injected into my arm. I fought and wriggled, but soon my actions were slowing, turning more and more futile as the world around me darkened. A thick blanket of calm spread throughout my body, and I slowly slid to the ground.