\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1801081-Exposed-Victims
Item Icon
Rated: · Novel · Crime/Gangster · #1801081
A teenager is captured on her way from leaving the airport on an underground train.
I felt the sensation of his soft, sweet lips settle themselves on my forehead as i nestled my spinning head into his chest. He slowly calmped his hands as if he never wanted to let me go, around my waist. I reluctantly let my hands, quivering uncontrollably, into the gaps in his finger. My hands were always designed to fit his. The boy brought his deep, brown, beautiful eyes in level with mine now, staring longingly as if into my soul the way he always did. I melted- as I always did. His mouth started to open, and i didn't know if i wanted it to.
"It's all going to be ok, babe, you can live without me, you're smart, funny, gorgeous".. he smiled as he spoke, his fingertips stroking my parted lips now as i struggled to breathe. All i could do was cry. Cold, burning tears that singed my red, blood shot blue-coloured eyes enough to cause the blue to be invisible in them. Mascara flooded down my cheeks like waterfalls. I managed to answer croakily, although my throat felt like it was closing. I knw he was feeling the heartache too, he was just trying to stay strong for me.
"I love you"..i whispered.
"I love you too!"..he cried, pulling me in for one last urgent snuggle before he departed from me. We held each other for a few more moments, and then he had to go..

At that moment, we untangled each other, shared one last loving embrace before we split outselves apartt, along with our hearts. I watched him saunter off into the distance, into the bustle of of happy holidaymakers. We were not happy at all. I couldn't believe he was leaving me like this, it wa so unfair. I can't remember how i got out of the airport that night, somehow i had managed to uplift my aching heart, my aching head, up from the floor and find my feet on the train home. Thomas was my childhood sweetheart, and then, i'd been with him for 2 years. Then, he'd told me his family were moving away to the US and i experienced heartbreak for the first time. I was devasted, didn't believe him. But he had left now, and i felt like i could cough up my own heart i was in so much sorrow and desperation as i silently sat on the train, the noise of the tracks nattering noisily, nauseasly in my ears, and the latenight party faces fussing about, falling over clumsily as the vehicle bumped along repetatively. I put my head down into my sweating palms, pressed them down. I rubbed my face tiredly, smearing my remaining make-up down towards my chin.
BANG!!!!
Suddenly, i jerked forward, felt my head batter the back of the seat in front of me.
Blackness..

I awoke to the sound of scared, restless voices whispering, followed by worried shouting and snapping of tongues.

"When are we getting out?!"
A reply; "I don't know! How am i supposed to?! We don't even know who they are or what they're capable of...." Barely thinking, but questioning in my unconscious way, i considered how quickly those drunken partiers had sobered up, and lazily attempted to open my weary eyes to see what the uproar was all about. In front of me were about 10 people in total, all in my carriage on the train. The train had skidded to a halt, judged by the smoke and discusting foul stench which rose from the rails, the windows still open..We weren't going anyway soon i was sure, by the looks of it. I'd been stuck on a train that had broken down several times before, and i hadn't got off that train for a fair few hours. But something, whether it be psychic intuition of my personal self, or just human genetic force, i knew immediately, although i was half passed out, that this was not an ordinary train breakage,and judging by the strangers conversations, it could perhaps be,....a hyjack..
© Copyright 2011 f@ithwrit3r0794 (nicgee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1801081-Exposed-Victims