PROLOGUE

The four girls line up beside each other, watching Erik fearfully. A smile lights within him, as he hauls them across, until theyre eye-to-eye. Of course, none of these girls will gaze straight at his eyes. Its ironic enough he has dragged them out of school to complete his evil deeds. Peter thinks this test is all about him; if he fails, its his loss. Does he have any idea what will happen if he does succeed? Peters a failure through Eriks eyes, and he wouldnt let somebody like him spoil his life. But what about the highly slim chance the failing kidnapper does complete the task? Erik shakes his head madly, trying to block out the possibilities. There are four girls in front of him, all which Peter will immediately find repulsive. He will never dare to kidnap a country-girl, someone who has just experienced a break-up, or a spoiled brat. But his personal favorite is the girl with honey-colored ringlets, dressed in the most unfashionable clothes. How does he know this? Because he used to be the closest person to a friend Peter ever had. Pulling at the girls collar, he thrusts her forward with shining eyes. You ready, Jamie? Her lip curls upward, stating she hates him. Not because hes about to let a complete stranger kidnap her, nor because shes going to pretend to be somebody shes not. Rather, whatll happen to her if the plan fails? Wordlessly, he drags her across to the other side of the room. Theres neither actual motivation nor a goal for him to reach. Instead, he merely chooses this action to prove he dominates all power over her. Of course, Honey. Her mouth forms into a snarl, ready to bite Erik. But he completely ignores her. After all, youre my supposed boyfriend, arent you? Smiling internally to himself, he taps Jamie on the nose, causing her to flinch away from the gentle, yet uncomfortable at the same time. Temper, temper, darlin. Next thing you know, youll get wrinkles all across your delicate face. This is going to be effortless, Erik thinks smugly to himself. And whats more, Peter wont know what struck him.

A PECULIAR CAPTIVE
Most girls would freak out after finding out theyre being kidnapped. They would probably try to escape, and itll be all up to me to comfort them by saying I wouldnt rape them. Of course, itd put another thought in their minds, as they scream louder. The noise would be difficult to tolerate, and Id find myself hitting my head with a hammer and wishing I was adopted, even though Im quite sure I am. After all, what normal family is pleased if their son joins a kidnapping spree? One in an infinity. Most hostages, as witnessed in American movies, consider screaming as their only weapon, and then try to escape. But not this one. Hey, Pete. My name isnt Pete. The girl looks bored, as she continues to play with a sickly-yellow cotton bud. The one which Ian had stuck into his ear and poked for about five minutes before laying it in my car. I never found the time nor the stomach to dispose of it. But watching this supposedly rich girl admire it with envy burning in her eyes is enough to send me vomiting. Turn the radio up, will you? My worst nightmares have begun; she likes pop music. Why do you even listen to this thrash? Because its awesome. Its sad, really, watching a sixteen-year-old girl bopping her head like a merry-go-round. Now that I think about this thoroughly, I dont really know how old she is in first place. She looks sixteen, but maybe shes really a sixty-three-year-old man? Keeping my hands on the wheel, I try not to panic. Of course not. How can somebody who looks so young, have a date of birth and gender-change? But this girl has got to be rich, and apparently, wealthy people have much more opportunities and privileges than us commoners. In their own world, anything is possible. Even transforming an elderly into somebody appearing less than a teenager. Gulping, I ask her the million dollar question. How old are you? Seventy-four. Looking in the rear-view mirror, I can see her smirk. My mouth, now disconnected from the rest of my body, swallows in fright. No, Genius, Im sixteen. Right, I mutter under my breath, but continues to be audible to her ears. If it isnt obvious already, I dont like this girl one single bit. Not knowing what her name is, or anything either than her age doesnt change my opinion. Then again, maybe if she had a boys name like Charlie or David my opinion might change. Id approve if she had a male name, because most rich parents continue to name their children ridiculously-posh names, like, Virginia, Porcha, and Cinderella. Not that I have anything against these names, of course, but it would be a wonderful change to see something new. Whats your name? Jamie. And you already told me your name; lets not go into detail.

God, shes bossy. But she has impressed me with her choice of name, although her parents make the decision. Jamie is a unisex name, meaning it can be said as a male and females forename. Why, oh why, have I finally got a mad obsession with names? My hostages wackiness must be contagious, and I may have to drop at the pharmacy to purchase a mask. Maybe its just a little extreme to think strange thoughts can be contagious. However, whos to say Jamie isnt thinking completely out-of-the-blue theories and thoughts? Shaking my head, I cant help my thoughts diverting to the other three girls I found stranded in the middle of nowhere with nobody within three kilometers of them. There was a country girl, who started talking in her nativetongue language, a spoilt brat who pointed out how my eyes are two far apart. And of course, there was Emily who pointed out the same thing but decided Id be her boyfriend after experiencing a break-up not-so-long ago. Its almost as if somebody realises these types of females are exactly what bugs me Not saying another word internally because lets face it; I seriously need to shut up I continue to drive. Weve been driving for over an hour, and she still hasnt stopped talking. Every so often she will comment on the position of the sun, or how her toenails have too much dirt stuck into them. Long explanation short, I now know a lot of things I wish I didnt know. I guess this is one of the things my father had warned me about when saying, Hostages are extremely difficult. Keep them happy and youre happy. Oh, yeah. Im sure every girl in the world will be ecstatic to figure they have been captured, taken captive, and possibly executed. Way to go, Dad. What a wonderful theory. Before I can think up more sarcastic comments Id love to say, but never will have the guts to, Jamies lips are moving. For a second, I conclude her lips and going blue and numb, as a result of the freezing air-conditioner. But the truth becomes much, much worse. To my horror, she now starts singing along with the pop music. Oh, for crying out loud, I want to get an axe and break the radio down. But that will mean another round of protests and insults from Jamie. No, Id rather drive in peace, even if it means following my fathers stupid advice. That man has no clue what hes talking about, and I have proof. The last time my aunty came over for thanksgiving, he roasted the napkins and wiped his mouth with the turkey. In conclusion, that man is completely deluded. Its amazing how hes not at a mental hospital currently. Feeling rather annoyed, I wonder if all kidnappers have to put up with this. Surely not every girl looks relaxed as they play with cotton buds. Why are all the people Im capturing so obsessed with making my job difficult? Maybe its all part of some big plan, and there is a hidden television camera inside my car. Perhaps Jamie has a camera hidden somewhere, recording my every move, only to shout, Youve been pranked! in front of millions of people. Negligently, I remove one hand off the steering wheel and brush my hair back, just in case my theory proves correct. Everybody needs to look good for the cameras, no mater how far apart their eyes are. Which I refuse to believe even if Emily, my second hostage, stated it. This was one of the reasons I decided she couldnt be the hostage. Her boyfriend, apparently, broke up with her and she chose me as a next target. Even if my eyes are too far apart. Why arent you asking where we are going? I ask Jamie, finally speaking up after shes finished a long discussion on why cows are better than roosters. Isnt that the first thing youd do?

She clicks her fingers, her eyes growing wide as if just realised to ask something, but completely forgot between her discussion on why pigs should fly and cows should rule the world. Right! All the excitement fades from her face, leaving her face slumping into the palm of her hand, her eyes half-closed in boredom. Where are we going? To a hotel. I cant help feeling a little smug as we drive on. She looks worried enough from the rear-view mirror, much to my delight, but doesnt say anything to add tension. Not even a single request to let her go. Which is quite unusual, and dare I say it, brave from somebody in the female species. Most women, or in this case, girls, would run and kick away all their problems. Their solution for everything is calling others names and pretending they dont care about stuff, when theyre secretly weeping on the inside. To my horror, this captive is different. Most hostages which I wouldnt know from previous experience, because this is my first time kidnapping in the American movies scream and shout. But this one doesnt. This girls got guts. Wait, why are we going to a hotel? Because Im kidnapping you, I reply, my voice cool as a cucumber. Which is weird, considering cucumbers arent naturally cool unless somebody has stuck it in the fridge. But first, can we go eat? What? No! Im supposed to be kidnapping you, not feeding you! B-but Im hungry! She pouts, her lips quivering. Please? Pretty-please with a cherry on top? Gritting my teeth, I know I will have to obey her whether I like it or not. Driving the car through the traffic is a pain, especially when the cars horn behind me. Inside, I wonder if any of those people know Im a kidnapper. What happens if the police find me? Pursing my lips, I know I have to prepare for anything coming my way. If her parents find me capturing their daughter, they wouldnt be too impressed. Jamie yawns. Are we there yet? No. A brief silence follows, until she breaks it. Now? Not even close. Scowling at me, she continues to stare out of the window to see cars rushing. The traffic has somehow fixed itself, and all the drunken people are back in action, trying to see who can be the most reckless. Their lack of responsibility disgusts me. Jamie looks a little pale as she sticks her head out of the window.

Oh God, no. Please don't let her have travel sickness! Fate is kind to me, as she breathes in and then closes the window with a press of a button. Thank God. The last thing I need is her vomit all over my seventeenth birthday present. "How about now?" "Yes." She looks at me in disbelief. "Really?" "No." Narrowing her eyes, she sticks out her tongue at me, attempting to show me her mature side. It doesn't work, making me want to bang my head on the steering wheel again. I'm driving so slowly, there is wonder whether the car is moving or if Earth is moving around it. Jamie seems to notice that, as she starts moaning and groaning, kicking her feet against my leather seat. But I'm not going to risk an accident. No way am I going to let someone else die because of my foolishness, but Jamie doesn't seem too happy with my commitment. Chances are, she has no idea about it. Which is why she screams at the top of her lungs until it's a wonder how her vocal chords haven't torn apart yet. "Get me out of here!" Grinning, I drive slower. The car behind me starts beeping, the ringing sound almost bursting my eardrums. But to torture my hostage, I keep on driving as slowly as Ian eats chocolate. Part of me is extremely satisfied that she's now screaming, even though it's not for the reason I would like it to be. The ringing sounds of the high-pitched beeps begin to driving me crazy, so I speed up a little. Honestly, people don't understand kidnapping these days. Sometimes, I wish there can be a sign saying on the roof of my car reading, "I'm kidnapping someone, please don't interrupt the process." Of course, that would get the police on my trail in no time. In a couple of minutes, we are in front of a huge hotel. The sun shines on the hotel like an angelic glow, at least, that's what it looks like to me. To Jamie, it must be the end of her freedom, where nobody can find her. I'll have to make up a fake I.D. so the hotel reception doesn't see anything suspicious about me. But what can I do for the girl I'm keeping hostage? Maybe she'll have to be my sister, but she looks nothing like my dark brown hair and grey eyes. Step-sister, perhaps? Getting out of the car, I pull her out and grasp on as tightly as I can. To my disappointment, she doesn't look the slightest bit scared. Instead, she looks more annoyed than anything else. Pushing back a strand of her light-brown hair, she breaks free off my grip. For a minute my heart stops, and I realise she will be able to make a run for it when she can. Inhaling a sharp breath, I try to grip her at her arm, but she's too quick. Right now, if she makes a run for it, she'll succeed. Even a brain surgeon will be able to figure out I'm not fit, and how a minute's worth of physical exercise will tire me out for a whole decade. She rolls her dark-brown eyes at my shocked expression.

"I'm not running away, as much as I want to get away from you." With that simple statement, she walks into the hotel. Her hair looks thoroughly shampooed and has a sweet fragrance wafting through the hair. I haven't noticed it until now, and the smell reminds me of fresh strawberries in a farm. Inside, I wonder how the fresh smell is available, even after spending so much time in the car. But, I shrug the thought off with a wrinkle of my nose. But despite my carelessness, something isnt right about this girl. Though I cant quite put my finger on specific points, theres a slight aberration in her, one which cant be described in merely words and nothing else. Why hasnt she run away like everybody else would? She has every reason to, and yet, she doesnt find reasoning. A completely suspicion-worthy character; one who I have recently met. But Im going to find out; even if its the last thing Ill do.

THE ROMANTIC SUITE

As I follow her, Im awaited by the magic of hotels. All the floors are polished at level where merely gliding across may cause serious back injury if daring to fall. Both Jamie and I exchange glances, her eyes shining as she watches an elderly lady with a walking stick shooting her a smile before continuing her way up the hotel rooms. Its amazing how popular Jamie is; this is the third person who has smiled at her. There was that bald guy asking for a cure for losing hair, whilst the receptionist sighed and notified him about this being a hotel, not a salon. He smiled at Jamie when she argued in favour of the man, the receptionist appearing more confused than a pillow without softness. Meanwhile, I had been hiding myself behind a pole designed to hold up the entire building, hoping nobody would realise Im supposed to be her guardian. Its amazing how many people have showed up here, but since this large city is so close to an airport, itd be pure stupidity to head somewhere else. Unless, of course, the people transferring from another state of country had no money and needed somewhere cheap to stay. But how would they afford the trip to this large city in first place? Im a whole year older than her; obviously, every kind of responsibility lies with me. Then there was the young blonde girl, chewing like a mad cow on her gun before declaring peace against all reptiles. Jamie supported her, even though Im certain shes quite clueless about what a reptile was in first place, she still argued. It's enough to make my jaw drop in horror and realise what a peculiar captive I've captured. Everything about her screams professional, as if she has done it all before. Which tugs on my suspicions, because she certainly acts like this is a repeating scenario in her life. Why didnt she scream the minute I dragged her into my car? Wouldnt she have done something completely stupid and I would rescue her from any childish decisions? Then again, why am I complaining? I may have just scored the greatest hostage of all time; she doesnt complain about anything resembling being captured and possibly executed. Shouldnt I be happy? As much as I try to understand her actions, its something which may never be discovered. The hotel reception is filled with echoes of people answering telephones, and a very familiar and official smell. The kind of fresh smell that can be found every time someone enters an office. Jamie grins at me, gesturing me over to the counter. The woman on the other side of the counter is wearing so much make up, it's impossible to imagine her with an actual face. She's speaking on the phone in a high-pitched voice, before smiling at us. There are people behind us, a particularly short man with a tall, skinny woman on his arm. They are strutting to the seat, resembling a penguin with dignity, making me chuckle at the way their bodies move. She motions us to take a seat, as she continues discussing official business. "Oh my gosh, Amanda! Really?" The teenaged girl, whos possibly my age, laughs like an idiot. "He asked you out? That's so adorable." Her long and red-painted fingernails twist the telephone cord around. Or maybe not.

Jamie is obsessed by playing with her very own fingernails. Scraping some of the dirt beneath them, she wipes them on my jeans. With a wrinkled nose, I look at the smudge on my jeans and recognize it as peanut butter and a tiny bit of banana. Pursing my lips, I pretend I'm not about to slap her across the face. Merely, she looks as innocent as a bunny rabbit who got run over by a monster truck. Girls always have these intentions to change their face when they want, wherever they desire. Of course, I dont tell Jamie this. She already has a bit head, and the last thing possibly required is her ego getting bigger. Shell grow out of all her old hats and Ill be the guilty conscious behind the entire ploy. Not that it would be my fault if she decides to let her hair grow any bigger, but Ill be the main source. "Happy birthday, Peter." She gives me a toothy grin. "That's for kidnapping me, holding me hostage, and not buying me a burger." She pauses, her forehead wrinkling. Unless, of course, youre not really seventeen. "My eighteenth birthday isn't for another seven months, you idiot. And, you're welcome." Snorting, she doesn't say another word more. Instead, she starts talking to the reception lady. Turns out, she has hung up on the phone, for whatever reason there might be. Knowing teenage girls well, actually, I dont really know them. Sophie was the only girl my age I ever got to know properly she probably said something which made the person on the other end angry. Or maybe its the other way around. To my horror, Jamie starts babbling on and on about how we have a one month relationship. She starts explaining how it's our anniversary today, and how we just want privacy. Something tells me she means that we're "more than friends." This is disgusting, insecure and revolting. I can just spew out my insides by now, every aspect of my body ready to expose In the most polite voice, I ask, "What are you doing?" "Getting us a room without appearing suspicious, Knucklehead." Knucklehead? Shaking my head at her unoriginal insult, I slump back into the leather seat. There is a potted plant beside me, its branches sticking high up in the air. For a minute, I start feeling sorry for the poor object. It has to put up with Jamie and her horrible, high-pitched voice saying disgusting and untrue. Patting the branches on the plant, I start murmuring words of comfort to it. "There, there, little--" "See, here's my boyfriend." Jamie points to me, and then squeezes her eyes shut, looking almost as if she wants to face-palm herself. The girl from behind the register is beside her, pursing her lips and trying not to laugh like a hyena. I guess this is a laugh-worthy site to see; a teenage boy with his hand patting on the plant. I continue patting it, waiting for my brain to register so I can take my hand off it. By the death glare Jamies throwing at me like lightning bolts, Im certain my intention of my brain registering isnt working the slightest. Gulping, my hands are still bouncing up and down on the poor plant, this time a little harder out of fear my hostage may skin me alive after were in our hotel room. "Stop patting the plant, Darling," Jamie says through gritted teeth, venom on the word "darling."

Clearing my throat, I stand up and wipe away imaginary dust from my t-shirt and broad shorts. I hope that the lady from the register doesn't think I'm a weird person, but it's too late to make another impression. What can be said to a person who pats a plant right beside them? Sighing, I plaster a fake smile on my face. Jamie bites her lips, as if everything she has said automatically turned out to be no use. "Hello, I'm Peter." I stretch out my hand, and the lady hesitates for a little while. "Hi, I'm Courtney," she says, shaking my hand. She flicks away a strand of blonde hair away from her face, before I realise how beautiful she is. Smiling glassblue eyes, a dimple in her right cheek and utter perfection except for her overly thin lips. But that's something I can put up with. It's only when Jamie gives a smug cough, I realise I'm staring at Courtney. Inside, I can almost slap myself for being so obvious. Even though her face is caked with makeup, I still find her attractive? My mind winces internally at the thought. Theres one word surrounding this entire scheme. Its the Sophie incident all over again. So what, exactly, is the Sophie Incident? At the age of fourteen, the most beautiful girl used to live beside me. Sure, she was scared of almost anything and I would tease her endlessly, but she was the only female person I knew. My mum was another added onto the list, but the last thing Id desire is a date with the woman who gave me birth. And who never lets me forget her misery, either. Every so often she would scold me, tell me how horrid Ive turned out to become. But its not my fault she is such a weird person. Everything she says and does ends with murder or crime. Which made her and my father the perfect couple. According to Ian, they met in jail while my father mustered up excuses to see her every so often, and pretended he hated her. Of course, the police were extremely delighted to have them in the same cell. Dad got his way by making people believe it was the last thing he wanted. "Can you get us a room?" Jamie gives her sweetest smile. Without saying another word, Courtney starts walking, motioning her to follow her. She winks at us, before saying, "I know the perfect room for you two." We walk up a flight of polished, wooden stairs, before crossing a vacuumed, colourful carpet. After several minutes of walking to different places in the massive hotel, we find ourselves looking at a door with the number "7" on it. "Welcome to the romantic suite," says Courtney, before handing us a bunch of keys and running away, giggling. "D-did she just say romantic suite?" Jamie looks horrified. "She better not." She fits the key through the lock, twisting it as the door springs open. A heart-shaped bed is in the very centre, but there is only one bed. There are twinkly little lights decorating the roof, all of different colours. The wallpaper has the words "I Love You" all over it, until my eyes hurt just looking at it. What's worse, a television is on one of the corners, showing people kissing passionately. The expression on Jamie's face is priceless, and I almost feel sorry for her. But, it still gives me an opportunity to smirk. "Yeah, I think she did," I whisper.

I can tell she's on the verge of throwing up.

A CREEPILY SOCIAL HOSTAGE

As we settle into the room were forced to live in, I cant help scanning through all the ineffective channels on the television. For some reason, the hotel chooses only the cheesy shows to display, but I have no idea how they managed to do it. There are operas singing love songs and reality shows where the boys dump the girls, leaving them heartbroken. Even childrens shows display the importance of love and Valentines Day. Not something unexpected for a romantic suite. The suspicion occurs if theyre video recordings. Wouldnt be too surprising if they are. Well, this is perfect, isnt it? Jamie asks in a rhetorical, lazy tone. Exactly how I wanted to be kidnapped. Sitting up from my slouching position on the floor, Im currently on full alert, glaring at her with suspicion. You wanted to be kidnapped? With a sigh, she revolves her entire body to face the other direction, ignoring my existence completely. Not specifically. But I wanted to escape my life. She might as well talk to the I Love You wallpaper, because she isnt facing in my direction. However, seeing as Im the only other human being, her words are directed to me. Unless she has psychological issues, and is now chatting to non-animated objects. My heart begins to race, and the urge approaches for her to continue, let me hear her story. Kidnappers usually dont listen to their hostages. Does that fact make me abnormal? Why did you want to escape your life? I mean, I know teenagers always have some lame reason to cry, but whats your excuse? My mothers dead and my father hits me. Basically. There is a moment of silence as I speculate living her life. Growing up in an environment where people who supposedly adore me, hate me. Maybe her father loves her on the inside, but has an outlandish way of viewing it. Violence in the only home I imagine. Why is my heart beating so rapidly, the feeling of whips rapping across my knuckles? Her lifes not mine, and my life isnt hers. But it doesnt prevent me feeling her pain. Gosh. Im sorry, I didnt think To my surprise, she snorts in interruption, wiping off imaginary dust from her knee-length shorts before standing. Her light brown curls are now in a knotty ponytail, tied up at the back with a green ribbon attached to the mid-section of her hair. No doubt, her light brown eyes are weary, as if she didnt sleep for a long time. Only when I think about sleeping, do I decide on something. I call dibs on the bed! I yell without warning, jumping on the bed and sprawling my arms and legs out to prevent her from sitting. Youll have sleep on the floor, I guess. Her eyes are now on full alert. Hey, no fair! Ive got a better idea. How about we share halves?

And Im guessing your half is the entire bed? Besides one centimeter from the edge, yes. I scowl at her, trying to appear demanding. Lets remind ourselves whos kidnapping who. That shuts her up, as she sits on the bed next to me. There is a dangerous look in her eyes, and I identify if she wishes to, she can plunge asleep on me. But theres a jeopardy Im willing to take. Jamie hates anything to do with love, which surprises me, because its what ninety-nine percent of girls converse about twenty-four hours everyday. No chance is she sleeping on me if I trap her into thinking its romantic. The idea sounds utterly brilliant, but how will I con her into thinking I like her in that way? Touch me, you love me. As if struck by lightning, she jumps off the bed with a yelp. Internally, I shake my head at how immature she is. For someone with sixteen years of existence, Id imagine they realised boys do not have cooties after all. Watching her jump around like a crazed chicken causes more judgment to cross my mind. Although Ive barely known her for two hours, I can infer shes immature, infuriating, bossy and stubborn. Doesnt even bother to cleanse her face, as the slightest touch of acne shows on her forehead and cheeks. With bared teeth, she makes her way toward the bouncy sofa. By bouncy, I signify its literally torn in half, springs displaying from the exterior. So why would anybody hand over a room with damaged property? Lets just say Jamie hated the place so much, she even tore furniture apart. Oh, I just forgot to add one word to my observations. Shes violent. Deadly. I dont ever want to get on her bad side, for I prefer my head attached to my shoulders rather than tugged off by her fragile, petite hands. But halfway to the piece of torn furniture, she changes her mind and strolls over to the mini-fridge. There are zillions of edible items in the fridge and freezer, for theyre joined together. Shell probably get some ice cream. No, I bet shell get ice cream. Sure enough, she pulls out a tub of vanilla ice cream along with a packet of frozen chicken nuggets. Immediately, I frown. Nuggets and ice cream? Dont you know its rude to stare? Jamie raises an eyebrow, but doesnt halt the smirk crossing her freckled face. Not uttering a single word, I observe her pick out the nuggets and decant them into a bowl before preheating in the microwave. Murmuring a random pop song, she lingers for the countdown to display the number zero. The time arrives, as she uses her bare hands to haul the plate from the microwave and pours the nuggets in a cool bowl to prevent her fingers from burning. Licking her lips, she dips the nuggets into the ice cream I cant believe it either and stuffs it into her mouth, clicking her fingers. To her, the creation is utter perfection. From my point of view, I use my right hand to prevent vomit tricking down the edge of my mouth. How. Can. She. Eat. That? Halfway through chewing another of her formations, she ambles over to me before waving a nugget in front of my face. There is chocolate on her face. Not only on her lips, but her nose, chin and even her forehead. How she

manages to spread chocolate on her forehead when her mouth is eleven centimeters away is beyond my knowledge. Im going to suffer an extremely short life if I keep witnessing such abnormal events. Id rather not. Chicken? Then she laughs, her eyes twinkling. Get it? I called you a chicken, and thats what Im offering you! She snickers like a hyena choking on a leaf as her entire face turns a bright shade of scarlet. Finally, cured from her laugh-attack, she frowns at me. Why arent you talking to me? When I purse my lips and let an, Why are you talking to me? escape, she slaps me on the arm. In seconds, my breathing cuts off from an endless supply of air. So shocking and utterly painful. How a girl manages to be strong enough to cause me to hit back, I have no idea. Violence has never been my thing, and not once have I thought about hitting something or someone back. However, theres always a first time for everything, right? My arm seems to have a mind of its own, as I hit Jamie straight back, at the same speed. On her shoulder, as she falls back to the ground with closed eyes. My jaw drops when I perceive what Ive just done. Jamie? I whisper more like hiss in urgency and regret. Are you okay? No. She moans, clutching at her shoulder. I think youve broken something. You should be ashamed of yourself. You, kidnapper, you. You, kidnapper, you? I shake her strange wording out of my head. Without hesitating a second longer, I outstretch my head. If only I had realised she was clutching her left shoulder, while I hit her on the right. Using my kindness to her advantage, she pulls me down onto the floor. My nose hits the ground with a thud, severe enough to hurt, but not hard enough to break. Before I open my mouth to protest, shes already on the double bed I thought I had dibs on. Feeling somewhat irritated by my horrible hostage, I stand up and try to retain my dignity. My nose sticks into the air as I stare her down, holding her gaze as deeply as possible. She doesnt seem to notice it, as she scoffs another serving of her unbearable creation, switching on the television. I have a good idea, I begin, determined not to be outsmarted by my own capturing. How bout we share the bed? She shrugs, much to my relief and delight. So long as you keep a minimum of ten centimeters away from me, Im ecstatic. Trust me; I couldnt come closer even if I wanted to. I pause. Youll probably be like a ninja all night, and as soon as Im nine-centimetres close, my arm will chop off. Magically. The tiniest of smiles appears on her face, and with her eyes still glued to the television, she pats on the bed, as far away from her as possible. Obeying my detainee, I sit on the bed and slip my feet under the blanket. Jamies watching a soap opera, one where the woman is heartbroken because the man left her.

My eyes roll. I hate how operas are always in favour of females, because they can be the same heartbreaking monsters as males. Jamie wipes a tear from her eye, her lower lip trembling. Its already been ten minutes into the drama, and shes crying. Imagine what would happen when the entire opera ends? Shes be a water-spilling wreck. A-are you crying? I ask, hesitant. I mean, you keep on blinking and Im not crying, she says, but her voice cracks. Somehow, she seems to try convincing herself more than me. Nope. Just allergies. Not taking any notice of her statement, or rather, threat, I do exactly what I claimed. Jamies shrieks of forced laughter echoes off the bright wallpaper, as she tries to slap my hand away. I dont budge, tickling her even harder and feeling amused when she laughs until tears spill out of her eyes. O-okay! she says between hoots of laughter. I discontinue tickling her; she stops laughing. My ex, Erik, broke my heart. He cheated on me with some other blonde girl, with the most disgusting grey eyes. I try not to feel offended, but cant help the feeling. Yo, Sherlock. Ive got grey eyes. Duh. Why else do you think I said they were disgusting? All the same, she winks as me, and I know shes only joking. Kind of. She appears a hundred years old, as tears trickle down her face, leaving a wet and slippery trail. Only, she doesnt bother to disguise her feelings this time. Without intending to, a sigh escapes my mouth. For some reason, she reminds me of Emily, my second capturing. Her boyfriend dumped her, while she was left in the dust. But lifes never fair. Cheer up, James Clip. She frowns, her tears lessening but not entirely gone. James Clip? Yeah. You know, the other name for paperclips? I pause. Well, it had the same Jame as the first syllable of your name. Without knowing what Im doing, I put an arm around her shoulders. Her whole body stiffens, but soon relaxes as she sighs. There is no clue in my mind on what Im doing, but the fact her tears slowly stopping is enough reason for me to continue wrapping a comforting arm around Jamie. What would Father say if he saw this? Comforting a hostage? Rather odd and peculiar, and certainly not what the kidnappers in movies do. But I dont belong to my family. I discern theyre not who I am. Once upon a time, I was told if I observe my family, Id find myself. The theory is, without a doubt, incorrect. Somehow, it doesnt stop me from proving it, even with high hesitations about the whole scheme. All of a sudden, she starts blubbering about how unfair her life is. If my legs werent firmly attached to the bed, I wouldve jumped a minimum of five centimeters with her random and sudden outburst. She starts cursing Erik, and how their relationship went down the drain within a few days. I find myself fascinated with her childhood. Apparently, Erik was her next-door neighbour who she loved since infants. He had a frog named Jasper, and the two of them would head to the lake, attempting to seize more tadpoles in spring. Abruptly, she squeezes me into a hug.

THE LAMEST VIDEO EVER CREATED

Feeling rather awkward, I pat her gently on the back. She sniffles a couple of times against my chest, before withdrawing herself with a look of disbelief. As if she cant believe she just hugged me. Shes not the only one feeling like she chewed her own toenails. Girls are so emotional, and this one is hugging me already and doesnt know my favourite colour. Which Im not going to tell her. Because the last thing I need is her annoying voice yelling, Oh my gosh, my favourite colour is green too! even though Im sure its not. I mean, if a person is sane enough to like green, would they be hugging me right now? I think not. Sorry, Im not usually like this, she starts, but I interrupt her. No problem. I understand. She cocks her head to the side, but doesnt say anything. Studying my face, as if its a miraculous discovery no human being witnessed before. The temptation to touch my face for signs of pimples spreads through me. Feeling somewhat self-conscious, I dont hesitate to touch my cheek lightly. Nope, there isnt anything stuck on my face, therefore, she has no valid excuse to stare at me like Ive eaten a live monkey. I wince internally at the thought. Monkeys are such cute and lovable creatures; what monster cruel enough would lay a single dainty finger on their cheeky faces? Animal killers, duh, replies a mental voice in my head, in response to my rhetorical question. Shaking the thought out of my head, I divert my focus back to Jamies ramblings. A guilty feeling spreads through me, because I havent listened to a single word she said, and hope I havent missed any important details. I think we got off the wrong foot, she finishes, almost hesitantly. A slow smile spreads across my lips as I point at the bruise she made earlier. More like the wrong arm. Pulling the pillow with the words I Love You, Forever! printed in bright red letters, she takes a blind shot and flings it at me, hitting my nose almost immediately. Wrinkling my nose, I let the shock of the previous incident go. She rolls her eyes. I stick out my tongue. Long story short, both of us dont hesitate showing the other our mature side. Letting a huge yawn escape her mouth, Jamie stretches out her arms before resting her head on the I Love You, Forever! pillow. Only then do I realise only one pillow is available in the bed. Well, duh this is a romantic suite, right? Couples are probably going to lie down on the bed next to each other, on the same pillow and reproduce. My stomach churns. Teenagers and their hurried decisions; so reckless and uncaring. I call dibs on the pillow! I say, but Jamie just sticks out her tongue at me before falling asleep. Her light snoring evens out with her unnatural, fast-beating heart. Rich kids dont snore, do they? Id imagine they would muster up a new invention to prevent them from snoring, since theyre so much better than everybody else. Either way, thinking these thoughts wont cause a pillow to magically appear under my sore and exhausted head.

Thats how I wake up with a sore neck.

TMFOAKW

Jamie gathers some of the equipment I set her out to bring, and then places them gently on the floor. A confused frown crosses her face, just as I suspected it would. Were making a tape. For ransom money. She nods her head with a wide smile, and a look of understanding on her face. Its my turn to appear puzzled. This girl seems as if shes being kidnapped every three or four days, which is unlikely but not impossible. Maybe there are other kidnappers around town I still havent met yet? The idea sends a charge of shivers running down my arched back. Chances are, theyd picked her up during their hunt and kicked her out, for shes such a pain in the neck. Shaking off all my suspicion, I grab the video camera in my steady hands and place it near me. Dragging a wooden chair the hotel offers in our room, I sit her on it and grab some rope. I tie the rope up, every centimetre of her visible covered by the thick, red rope. She is held firmly in position. Then, I add the final touch: a piece of sticky-tape on her full-lips. Wait, she cuts in, untying herself and then positioning herself in a different posture. I look at her, more confused than ever. This is my good side, she explains. If Im going to be recorded, I might as well look my best. This is going to be a long shooting, I think to myself bitterly. The next five minutes wastes as we try to get tears in her eyes. Jamies the most horrible actor Ive ever met in my seventeen years of living, who cant inform her parents shes kidnapped without bursting out in fits of giggles. No doubt would they be suspicious if they see their daughter laughing, when shes about to be executed by her kidnapper. The bright idea flashes to me in an instant. Strolling over to the fridge, I pick out a whole onion. To nobodys surprise, its carved into the shape of a heart. Why somebody has such little life to bother with the tiny detail is beyond my knowledge. Grasping on the handle of a knife with a sharp blade, I begin to chop it into pieces using only my hands and no hard surface to rest it on. Jamie raises her finely-plucked eyebrows, admiring how well I manage to cut something. Notifying her I used to pretend I was a chef at seven years of age wouldnt sound menacing enough. Also, adding the tiny detail about how Id sneak past my cooking-disapproving family to attend cooking classes after school wouldnt be smart either. Therefore, I say nothing. Nil. Zero. The atmosphere of the room tenses, as Jamie sniffles her nose and a few tears spring into her eyes. Not able to bear the pain of onions, I stumble to the bathtub, blinded by the horrid scent of the vegetable before grabbing a pair of goggles and pulling them to my eyes. \ Both lenses are heart-shaped. I have a hard time not throwing up on the carpet. Jamie seems rather unaffected by the onions in comparison to me, and my heart sinks as I figure out how tough she is. No, its not my fault I have sensitive eyes.

Within seconds, tears commence falling out of her eyes. She waves her hand as fast as she can, as if trying to stop the flow of tears. Failing miserably, her eyes are bloodshot as she tries to steal the goggles off my eyes. Okay, I know this is very mean, but I start stepping to the side every time she thinks shes got a hold of them. Naturally, she never gathers a hold on the goggles. Before she can do anything ferocious, I shove her onto the chair, whilst shes still trying to steal my swimming glasses. I tie her securely to the chair. Lights, camera. Action. My video camera is rolling, observing every centimetre of her scarlet face. There are beads of sweat dripping from her hairline, making its way down her chin and onto her bright red shirt, drenching it completely. Mum? Dad? Its Jamie here. She pauses to let a sob escape her throat, trying to appear as if she actually cares about being kidnapped. Im Im being kidnapped. Hes demanding money. Lots of it. I know you guys are really rich, and will be able to pull it off. Hes wanting She pauses, cocking her head with sweat still pouring down her face. One million dollars, I mouth. Ah, right. Her voice sounds oddly cheerful, and as soon as she realises it, she drops it down to the same, gloomy and depressing tone it was earlier. One million dollars, hes demanding. Pay it by the day after tomorrow, and he wont have to kill me. Please. Youre my only hope. The hotel room has the most amazing lights, one which can dim by simply turning a knob. Therefore, I use the function as an advantage. Licking my lips to concentrate a very odd habit, yes, Ive been told I spin the knob anticlockwise and watch the lights dim until pure darkness is left. And cut. The camera is switched off, with a satisfied feeling spreading widely across me. Not only is there a theatrical beginning, with my hostage tied up to a chair, but also a dramatic ending one where the lights fade to blackness. Its all too depressing Im such a failure at taking videos or photography, because what Ive just created resembles a professional photographers work at seven years of age. That was one of the worst videos ever, Jamie says, shaking her head in shame. I cant believe I know you. Yeah? I say without any knowledge why. Well, Im shamed to capture you. And you still havent bought me that burger. I lose control. Whats with you and eating? Dont you rich people get a million doses of food served at your feet everyday? She purses her lips, going unusually quiet. A rush of guilt extends through me. Ive just accused her of doing something I dont have pure evidence of, and although kidnappers shouldnt care about things like this, Im an exception. Possibly the only omission. Jamie and the word quiet cant be used in the same sentence without me distrusting a defect. Even in the almost-twenty-four hours Ive known her, little things have come to my attention without me intending.

My mouth struggles to find the right words. Im sorry. I I didnt mean to sound so accusing, I guess it just happened. With a flick of her light-brown curls, she shrugs as the corner of her lips tip upward. Just like you happened to be a kidnapper? Pretty much. I grimace. Not that Ive a choice in family. So youre not after the money? She appears confused. Well, then what are you after? Were on the bed, as she sits alongside me, listening without breaking her serious eyes from me for a slight second. Every so often, her eyes would furrow as Id describe how Im forced to do things which would never be acceptable. My choices are either to be a hijacker or a murderer. Either way Im hurting people, but with the kidnapping position, Ive a chance to save them from fatal injuries. She chuckles when I describe my annoyance of having a little brother. How Ian ruins my life in every way possible. She laughs a little too loudly at it, almost appearing hysterical, but I let my suspicions disappear. Whats there to suspect? Shell run away from me? Trust me; shes had too many chances to give up if she wanted to flee. Like when we were in front of the hotel, she had the perfect opportunity to escape if she wanted. The weird feeling rushes through me like an aura. I actually want her to escape from me, therefore, there will be no risk of executing her by accident. Nor will I pass my exam and prove myself to my family, but another life will save itself. My long speech halts to a stop. She studies my face and a sigh escapes her mouth. Whoa. I know this wont make you feel any better, but Id hate to be you. She pauses. You know, beside the fact youre horrible, annoying, shameful, childish, immature Is there a positive in this sentence? Hold on. Im getting there. She clears her throat. Ridiculous, unfriendly and down-right torturing, youre not that bad. How my father would love to hear all those words applied to me. The man has mental damage of some kind, Im positive of it, and the oddest ideas or schemes cause him to laugh out loud. What do I define by odd? Cows getting killed by running into electric fence, chickens committing suicide by using large guns and bulldozers running baby lambs over. Yes, all of the above cause hysteric chuckles until an eye pop out of its sockets. Then, we have to rush him the hospital to position them in their correct posture. Not that my toilet-paper-thieving mum is an improvement. Thank you. I place a solemn hand on my heart. You have officially made my day, my year, my life with your outstanding compliment. What are hostages for? she asks as a rhetorical question with a slight shrug, as the tiniest of smiles form on my face without me proposing. Her eyes narrow. You are buying me that burger, right?

My smile vanishes.

THE ORIGINAL WAY TO GET FREE COFFEE

Jamie stuffs another bite of the burger into her face, wiping away some mustard sticking onto her pimpleloaded face. My stomach churns as she bites into the burger and shrieks, exclaiming something about biting her tongue. Her hands wave around frantically, as if shes trying to get rid of mosquitoes around her, although its not even sunset yet. Instead of feeling pity, the temptation to drop my head into my hands in shame overcomes my emotions. Shes a nutcase and pig. Its her fault for purchasing a burger with the extra-hot sauce, and then deciding she cant tolerate it. Apparently, buying hot-sauce with everything is what her primary school friends did. Which beings be to the next promise of my life: Im never going to meet her friends. Not in a million ears. Somebody had once told me that to see what kind of a person I am, I need to witness my friends. In high-school, my social life was incredibly dull. Not that I actually went there, of course, but virtually. Theres a website online where I can create my own avatar and roam around a make-believe world, but then I decided I needed a life, and quit the website completely. Okay, whenever youre done, maybe we can use the wireless internet connection? I point to my laptop, which is waiting its turn to access the free wireless-internet room. However, theres no food allowed in the room, meaning I cant promenade in there with Jamie and her half-eaten cheeseburger; one which I bought for a good three dollars. One of the main errors of a kidnapper is to leave their hostage alone. Although I trust Jamie enough to not escape, for all I know, she can call the police and notify them of my exact location. Mums not going to be happy watching her son on television, behind large metal bars and living on a diet of stale bread and water. Sure, she replies between mouthfuls. Taking another bite, she chews slowly to prevent herself from biting her tongue again. As soon as I finish my burger, we can go. Thanks for the offer, but Id like to go to the wireless room sometime this year. Even though I can already check my emails back at the hotel, the wireless connection room sounds like a cool place to spend my time. Oh, ha-ha, she replies, sarcasm dripping from her feminine-sounding voice as she wipes away at her mouth. Big globs of ketchup fall on her plate, but shes oblivious to it. Youre simply hilarious. Why not get a job at a circus? Youre the perfect height for a mini-clown. The kids will love ya. Wincing at her harsh words, I mutter, Its not my fault youre so abnormally tall. As much as Id hate to admit it, were both correct; Im short and shes unfairly giant. Of course, in Australia, being tall is never a crime but shortness is an automatic put-down. According to my younger brother, most criminalminded people are short, meaning its in my genetics. Its not my fault my growth spurt hasnt occurred yet, even though Ive been waiting for almost seventeen years. Done! she finally declares, hopping out of her seat and heading toward the wireless-internet room. You coming or what?

Muttering something unintelligent, I follow her long strides and feel my heart throbbing loudly as we finally reach the room. For some reason, there isnt anybody around, striking me as peculiar. Jamie, unlike me, doesnt seem out of breath as we find a seat on a red, leather couch. In front of it is a marble-designed table, where I place my delicate laptop. Im still puffing; she isnt. Hockey, she replies simply to my frown of wonder. Very active sport. My eyebrows raise skyward. So shes a hockey player, is she? Very strange, considering most people in Australia absolutely hate hockey beyond any type of recognition. However, I dont hate it nor like it; just another sport Ive heard of from several sources. Of course, Id actually have to play the sport to decide whether its enjoyable or otherwise. So, now we need to edit the actual video, begins Jamie, spinning the computer so she can control it. My mouth opens in protest but then closes in despair. Shell never listen to me. Do you have any previously downloaded software? Without waiting for an answer, she accesses the internet almost immediately. She types in something in the address bar, and then gazes at the webpage in satisfaction. Something about the results must fascinate her, as she clicks straight on a link. Using a cable to connect the camera to the computer, she copy and pastes the video file onto my desktop and double clicks. Both of us watch the video replay, mutually thinking of the same word to describe the clip: fake, plastic and horrid. The next fifteen minutes are spent as she edits the video. Every so often I would grab a couple of strands of her long hair and fiddle around with them, bored. Naturally, she disregards me. With a few of her curls, I tie them into a knot and wrap them around my neck. Three guesses on who she ignores. Finally, determined to be ignored any longer, I shout in her ear. Boo! Im going to eat you, James Clip. No response. Just the rapid clicking of the mouse. Abruptly, a tear slides out of her right eye as she clenches her teeth to stop herself from yelling at the computer. Im on full-alert as she slams the laptop lid down and buries her face into her knees, not uttering a single sound. What a drama queen. Emotional and useless; even when editing a video, she manages to cry. But when shes kidnapped and possibly slaughtered, Jamie asks for a cheeseburger to stuff in her mouth. What a strange, weird and peculiar child. Her parents must be proud. This time, however, I dont bother saying words of comfort. Instead, I walk back into the empty caf where the worker is sitting down with a calculator. His eyes are shining as he leaps up, asking for my order. I dont know what is weirder; the fact somebody uses a calculator to entertain themselves, or how the manager bothers keeping a worker at such an empty caf. Right next to this particular caf is Perseys Coffee, one which has cheaper and yummier coffee. Why would people come here? More specifically, why am I here? Because I am the best bargainer of the century, thats why. Of course, not the type people would usually expect. Hey, Nathan. Howre you? Yes, I just asked a rhetorical question by peeking at his badge, but it manages to drive a smile on his face. I was just wondering if you have any coffee left?

Um, yeah, he says with a smile, pushing his glasses back up on his nose, magnifying her hazel eyes. What kind? Any, really. See, Im broke. Cant afford much. Perhaps the cheapest sort you can find? He wrinkles her nose. That coffees disgusting. Yes, it only costs one dollar, but still. It tastes like a dying cow. A sigh escapes my mouth, putting effort to appear weary. What can I do? My parents have stopped my allowance, because For the next five minutes, I ramble on a story of pure fiction. At first, hes fully interested when I tell her about my puppy and how much I love it. By the time I notify him on its entire history, day-by-day, he appears as if hes going to fall asleep. The scheme is working, because as part of Rues Internet Caf guidelines, their slogan is: When at Rues, we listen to you. The employee cant tell me Im boring them to death, because Ill make a complaint, and theyll get fired. Just when I begin informing her on how my parents want to buy another puppy, she interrupts me. How about I buy you the two coffees? He pauses, frowning. Possibly not believing what shes saying. I mean, theyre only five dollars each. Bingo. Within minutes, two coffees worth ten dollars are handed to me. Hed rather spare ten dollars and save herself from misery than live with the misery or get fired. Feeling triumphant, I wrap my fingers around the two glasses and stride into the wireless-internet room. As I look back, I watch Nathan open his mouth and close it. Hed rather me stroll in with food than spin around to speak to him. The idea causes a goofy smile to cross my face. As soon as Jamie observes the coffee in my hands, her eyes light up like glow-in-the-dark vampire teeth. Gimme! With such an informal word, her fingers plunge toward one of the cups, her eyes tear-stained and puffy. Desperate to keep my coffee safe, I lick the rim of both glasses. My hostage appears disgusted, wrinkling her nose before slouching back into her seat, defeated. Feeling selfishly victorious, I grab a seat beside her as she buries her head into her hands. So. Whats your problem? I inquire, licking the froth off the coffee and not caring the least about her girly problems. You. Let me rephrase that: Whats bothering you beside me? A sigh escapes her throat. She pushes away some wispy bits of her hair sticking on her pale face before answering my question. Rebecca was the one who got Erik to break up with me. I just checked through their wall on Facebook, and saw their conversation. It was pretty stupid for her not to delete it. Before I drive myself insane, whos Rebecca? My best friend.

My head nods, understanding her every word. For once in my life, I actually comprehend her life without feeling as if shes being dramatic. Because in this case, I feel the pain and rage inside of her. Why, I have no idea, but the idea of trust losing itself appeals to me as a genuine problem. But what about editing the video? She snorts, before opening the lid of the laptop with a sigh. I finished it within the first three seconds. She twists the computer so Im staring straight into it. Check it. My eyebrows raise skyward. Somehow, she has managed to change the background completely so shes outside with water drenching her forehead and cheeks. So realistic, and easily something I cant find a defect in, as wonder crosses my thoughts. Shes such a whiz with photography, a tinge of jealousy crosses through me but I shake it off mentally. In the video, her wrists contain scars with blood flowing out, thanks to the video editing software and her super-efficient skills. Not bad. Licking my lips in concentration, I download the edited version to my computer desktop and open up Facebook. Jamie shakes her head in disgust, as if Im going crazy. They can just access your email address, find a position on your IP address and trace you down, Brainless. Who said Im using my account, Genius? I reply with the same bitter tone she used. That shut her up; not for long, though. What about naming your new account Doug and last name Less? She throws her head back, her curls dragging behind her as she laughs like a hyena. Get it? Doug-Less? Douglas? To my utter dismay, yes, Jamie, I comprehend. So, hows the imaginary humour going? Hows the imaginary life, Peter? Wrinkling my nose, I ignore her existence before starting a new account using her lame joke as a screen name. If her parents are anywhere as dumb as she is, theyll search through the telephone book to find someone named DougLess. When they do, theyll arrest him and send him to jail with a good scolding without bothering to search for their missing daughter. I mean, why would anybody want to find Jamie? Shes bad enough in the twenty-four hours Ive known her, and shell be worse by tomorrow. Her poor, hopeless parents; imagine giving birth to a hideous monster like her. Uploading the video, my fingers tap against the table top as I wait for it to process. It sure takes a long time, so I start filling in all the blank spaces such as the title and a description. Title: Dougs Kidnapping Extravaganza

Description: Yo, hippe gus nd gals. Douggie in the hou-ouse! Check it out, cause yall know not to regret it or nothin. Just to put them off track, I type as someone in the countryside. Yes, its not too smart because theyll probably realise the truth, but urging not to attempt. My hostage shakes her head for the second time, as she slouches in her redleather chair and pretends not to know me. Cant blame her; but at least she can get away from me. Im stuck being myself for the rest of my pitiable life. How much longer until your father is going to test you on your kidnapping abilities? One month, I say with a sigh. Theres no way Im going to enjoy spending time with someone who underestimates my skills. I can kill a person if I truly wanted. However, for now, I dont hate someone enough to stab a sharp stake through their heart and watch them moan to their doom. No, thats Ians job, not mine. All of a sudden, a man strolls in with the daily paper. There is a cigarette in his mouth, a cowboy hat on his grayed hair and wrinkling skin destroying his appearance. He takes a seat on one of the leather seats and scans through the paper, holding the paper so the front cover is visible from out point of view. Wisps of smoke escape from his cigarette, as he bangs it on the table before disposing it in the bin nearby. Peter. Jamie sits up from her slouching position, fully-alerted. Her eyes flash as she sneaks out of the leather seats. Look at the front cover of that newspaper. Curiously, I dart my eyes toward the front cover, my mouth almost hitting the table in shock. There is a huge colour photo of Jamie and the word MISSING printed across the top of the page. There is also a headline reading $500 Dollar Reward near the bottom. To my utter dismay, the man flips to the front page and examines the page closely and then his bloodshot eyes gaze upon us. His eyes grow wide as he stares at Jamie.

A LUCKY ESCAPE
Jamie gazes at me for a brief moment, fear visible in her honey-coloured eyes. The man behind the paper hesitantly stands up, having no evidence of what to achieve. Pressing his fat lips together, he leaps toward my hostage in the most abnormal procedure, shooting head-first and yelling in frustration when he misses Jamie by a centimetre. Who sprinted first out of the glass doors, I have no clue. All I recall is grasping a secure hold on my laptop and case, taking a shot out of the wireless internet room. It's official; Jamie's disappearance has been revealed, and there are people all over the town searching for her, just to get their filthy hands on the reward money. The man will probably rush to the police station and notify them of our location. Although we aren't in the cafe anymore, we're not much further. The last thing I need is spending a life in prison for the rest of my life. "Yo, Pete, where are we going?" With me puffing and her still jogging peacefully, showing no signs of weariness thanks to her hockey skills, the question springs a thought into my head. One which I haven't thought about until this very second. I have no idea what we're doing, except the fact we're running. Racing somewhere people can't see us nor capture me to place me in a cell to rot. Although it might not be Jamie's future ambition, without doubt it's mine. To stay out of jail and preferably excuse myself from being executed. "I have no idea," I admit, but pride returns back, a feeling of determination crossing my mind. "But don't worry; we'll find somewhere to stay." "I absolutely hate it when you tell me not to worry," Jamie mutters. "It just gives me more reason to be terrified." "Shut up and keep running." "Hey, you're the one out of breath. Why are you telling me to shut up, huh?" "Just -be quiet, will you?" "Shutting up...." "Really?Cause it sure doesn't seem like it." Ignoring my last retort, she continues to sprint at unnatural speed, and a sick feeling squeezes itself into my stomach. If she was the kidnapper, I'd have neither hope nor chance of escaping. She'd catch up to me in no time; she'd fit in perfectly well with my family. Along with her agility and speed, she also has the advantage of annoyance to attach handcuffs, with hostages begging her to stop speaking. Either way, Jamie's much more skilled at my own job than I'd ever be, and all of a sudden, I find myself wishing we could switch positions. My knees begin to ache when we head up the large hill. There is grass all over the exterior, reminding me of Mount Everest for an odd reason. The ankles of my feet weaken, and when I can't take the torture any longer, I fall on

the middle of the hill, puffing. Stitches cover the interior of my stomach, a groan of utter pain escaping from my throat. Jamie rolls her eyes skyward as she plants her feet beside me, sitting down without the slightest bit of weariness, just the uneven beating of her heart. "God, you're so unfit. How do you spend your Saturdays?" "Sitting in front of the television and playing the same video game over and over again." She blinks at my straight-forward answer. "That explains so much." The laptop, inside its case, is making my hands warm with the radiating heat. I didn't find an opportunity to shut it down; kidnapping is a very fast process, and all can change in the slightest second. Of course, not that many people would experience the unpleasant task. Kidnapping is a very rare and risky job, one which most people aren't encouraged to do. I'm the exception. "So what're we supposed to do?" "We'll wait until we have to run again," I reply. "I can't believe you," she says, her lip curling in disgust as she stands up with her arms folded. "How long are you keeping me kidnapped?" "As soon as I receive the ransom money." "I thought you weren't in it for the cash." Her voice is so cold and accusing, I find myself feeling rather shocked. This is the part of Jamie I haven't seen yet, not that I've observed much of her facial expressions and moods. "I'm not. I just need proof I actually captured you." I pause, gazing at her raised eyebrows. "If I bring you in to show them my prisoners, they'd think I'm merely paying to act as my hostage. I need actual evidence I conned you into giving me money." She nods her head, and I sigh because I know she understands; there's no need for a deeper explanation. We sit in the specific spot on the hill for about ten minutes, neither of us uttering a word. As each second passes by, our relationship grows more awkward. I definitely want to say something -anything- to break the silence, and judging by the way she opens her mouth and then shuts it, we're on the same page. But what am I supposed to say? Night falls on us like a drum, neither of us expecting it to come so soon. It kind of sneaked up on us, just when we thought we could go the entire week without speaking a single word. Jamie is reading a novel by torchlight, her eyes widened as she flicks through page by page. The torchlight briefly brings out the darkness in her eyes, and although they're a light brown colour, they're now as dark as oak trees in the middle of a haunted forest. "We should start up camp, shouldn't we?" I ask, breaking the silence. Folding the corner of her book to bookmark it, she nods before the excitement in her eyes fades. The book must truly be a source for the lasting happiness. Because for a second, I think I actually saw her happy. I have no idea how a person can maintain cheeriness when stuck on a grassy hill with a kidnapper, who might take the opportunity to slaughter them. But then again, she knows me well enough to work out I can't hurt anyone, causing her to remain as confident as she is currently.

The temptation to sneak over to her bag and pick out the novel to read it bites me, but I resist it with a feeling of what the after-guilt would feel like. No, even though she's my detainee and I may do something completely out of my character, staying a loyal and respectful person is on the top of my list. Even before proving my feeble self to my family. Very soon later, there is a campfire at our feet and a bunch of thin sticks to roast marshmallows. Minus the marshmallows, because we dont hold any. Or have the brain to snatch some from the hotel. The hotel. Raising my eyebrows at the sudden thought, I realise I still haven't booked out of there. Although I have a criminal family who're loaded with cash, if the slightest penny goes to waste, my life is spent locked in a bedroom, them guarding my every step. If I don't book out anytime soon, my dad is going to flip. Forget about the mission or whatever lame excuse may block my mind; I need to notify the hotel of my leave. "Hey, Jamie, can I borrow your cellphone?" She frowns the slightest bit but hands me the mobile phone. I like this characteristic of her; doesn't ask questions, but listens to other people's resquests. Grabbing the phone with a "Thank you," I flip it open. There are lighted keys, guiding my way as I pick out a hotel card from my side pocket. The hotel number is printed clearly, visible with the lighted campfire. As soon as I punch in the numbers, a voice awaits me. "Hello?" The unmistakable voice of Courtney inquires. "This is Hotel Panoma. How can I help you?" Jamie's lips form into the largest and widest grin I've ever experienced a teenager wear. It's all too bad it doesn't reach her eyes. She points to my lip, patting the exact position on her face. Touching where she wants me to examine, I find myself stumble over a long, thin like of drool; striking resemblance to fishing line. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I wipe it off with my jaws tightening in a hard line, acting as if I've meant for the act to happen. She realises who picked up, as her stupid grin grows wider and wider; if it's even possible. Her hands thrust forward, waving frantically as if saying, "Go on. Ask her out." Ignoring my atrocious hostage, I continue to hold on the line, catching my breath before speaking into the receiver. "Hello? It's Peter. You know?" "Oh yes." A high-pitched chuckle escapes her throat, making itself all the way through the phone line to my ears. "The boy who plays with plants. How can I forget?" I try my hardest not to slam my head against the wall. Jamie continues to read through her novel, her eyes skimming through all the characters and words on the page. Right now, I won't be surprised if she closes the book just to slap me across the face. I would very-well deserve it, after the humiliating reputation I've earned myself. Of course, I've had plenty of nicknames throughout my history. They go back as far as kindergarten, when a boy discovered me with a pimple on my face. From that day forward, I was known as "Pimples the Pimple King." Although it's flattering to be called the "king," it definitely is another story when applied to a certain type of acne. This was in Swan Hill, the town I'm currently sitting in, wondering what I did to deserve such punishment. "Hello?" a voice calls through the phone, clearly confused.

But I'm petrified. Instead, I divert my thoughts to other things just to distract myself from the fact I'm actually talking to Courtney. Cheese. Yes, I sure like cheese. No, cheddar has got to be my most favourite type, because it's so... cheesy? Jamie looks up from her book and shakes her head when she finds my stiffened body, sitting down firmly, but even the tiniest gust of wind can knock me over the hill. Sighing, she picks up my mobile. "It's Jamie here. To cut to the chase, I just want to tell you to cancel our room. I mean, well rebook it tomorrow, but currently dont need it tonight. Thank you." With the final request, Jamie is just about to press the "End-Call" button. There is a couple of seconds until she does, and when I'm disconnected from Courtney, maybe my heart will continue beating at its normal rate. Why do I find Courtney so attractive compared to the other girls I've seen? Maybe because she looks like Sophie? A soft groan escapes my mouth as I witness Jamie and Courtney brightly chatting about their normal life. If Sophie was here right now, she wouldn't be sitting around; she'd scream. She's always been the type of person who's scared of a lot of things, and a kidnapper is definitely on her list. However, when I met her in neighbouring areas, I had the most impossible crush. Somehow, she always belonged to someone else, never giving me the opportunity to tell her. That was back in Canada. I have to remind myself I'm living in Australia, a place where rich people dominate, thinking they're so tough. Sophie was so easily scared and frail. Why do I find it attractive? The mass amounts of thoughts whirl around my head, stinging at my internal brains like bees; my head being the source of honey. Of course, mix the many strange and peculiar thoughts infecting my head in my lifetime, and my brain is never sweet. "How's my boyfriend?" I zone in just in time to hear those words escape Jamie's mouth, as if she's repeating Courtney's question. My hostage makes a face before replying in false cheeriness, "He's wonderful. Except we broke up. He's with me right now because we're just friends. We're eating ice cream right now." A smile crosses my face at her last sentence. Stating the truth about us sitting at the middle of the hill, waiting for police to find us and running away when they do, isn't the most normal thing to say in a normal conversation. Therefore, I ask myself the same question: Why are we here? Because Jamie's picture is all over the papers? But why don't we dye her hair a different colour, and buy some contacts for her? Opening my mouth to state my thoughts, I close it immediately, hearing Jamie say the most jaw-dropping thing ever. "Peter was wondering if you'd like to date him. He kind of fancies you."

JAMIE AND HER WONDERFUL BIG MOUTH

My jaw drops in sheer and utter horror. I can't imagine those words spilling out of my own mouth, let alone Jamie's. She is still smirking with I snatch the phone off her with an angry sneer and attempt to slap her on the arm. I fail epically, missing her skin by almost three centimetres. And she didn't budge the tiniest bit when I aimed for her. One word can apply to this entire scene: shame. "Hey, Courtney?" I begin in my best don't-listen-to-her voice. "You know, she's just messing about." My voice is on the edge of hysteria. "I really don't like you. Well, more than a friend. Which is ironic, because I haven't known you long enough to actually-" "Pick me up at seven p.m. sharp next week. No, actually, just arrive at the hotel. Ill be waiting. You've got to stop speaking. You're embarrassing both yourself and me." The phone clicks dead. My eyebrows form into an unmistakable frown. If she didn't look so much like Sophie, I would have no problem sneaking in an insult after her politely-inferred harsh words. Telling myself I embarrass myself far too much for my own good? As if I haven't figured it out myself. "You scored a date!" My hostage stands up on her tippy-toes, dancing around with the breeze flowing through her hair. She looks so awkward with her hands waving about and her tall figure, the tiniest of smiles appear on my face, but doesn't last long. "I don't get you... You hate everything to do with romance, yet, you're dancing because Courtney and I are going on a date?" She tilts her head to the side. "I'm a third person romantic. I love watching people in love, but feel vomit trickling out of my mouth when applied to me." My mouth opens in a silent "o" of realisation. The sudden idea spreads through my mind. But what about Erik? She wrinkles her nose. Guess hell be an exeption. There is a brief minute of silence but I break it. "Hey, Jamie. Instead of sitting here doing nothing, why don't we go and get a disguise for ourselves?" "At this time of night?" Indifferently, I shrug. "Nobody said we had to actually buy the items." "But that's stealing."

Standing up, I dust off some dirt off my jeans. "Not if we leave money on the counter." The next half hour is spent as we think up of a good plot to get ourselves into the shop. We're standing in front of the shop, ironically, and can't find any way to get inside without smashing glass. Fixing up broken glass requires a lot of money, cash being something I can't afford to lose at such an early stage. I mean, I've still got another twenty-eight days, and I'm sure Jamie's parents won't give away a million dollars to an absolute deluded person. Picking out my wallet from my pocket, I single out out two twenty-dollar notes and a ten-dollar note to make fifty dollars. Jamie, being the observant person she is, discovers a chimney high up on the building. Licking my lips, I haul myself up the window ledge and then climb on the pole to get higher. Trust me; it's near-impossible to scramble up something with no rough areas to hold me in place. After a long, struggling journey, I find myself out of breath and standing up on the roof. The entire store can't be considered a shop at all; it's more alike to a house than anything else. A small window on the side, a russet roof with a chimney attached to it. A wince escapes my mouth. Soot finding its way into my eyes and mouth isn't my favourite thing in the world. There is no lighted fire; safe to go, however, any person can light a fire within the thirty seconds it'd take me to jump. But all for the sake of kidnapping, I hold my breath and leap in with the fifty dollars safe into my pocket. "Argh!" I can't help yelling, as I find myself amongst a pile of dry wood. "Hello?" I call, checking if there's anybody there, just in case I've frightened them. Nobody replies. Grabbing a long black piece of burnt wood, I clench it tightly against my chest, just in case the moment of usage arrives. Which is very unlikely, but nowhere near impossible. For all I know, there can be strange lunatics here, the people who create the masks must be quite crazy to try and disguise other people, encouraging them not to be themselves. This place is a dump! my mum says. How on Earth my mind has transferred her voice out of all people- into my head, I have no idea. Neither have I any idea why Im here in first place. When I hear Jamies loud, Peter, are you okay? I remember. Unfortunately. That girl has a voice loud enough to wake the dead, and the last thing I need is my grandfathers ghost to strangle me. I must be a disgrace in his eyes, his own grandson who cant kidnap a single girl without them taking full advantage of him. Come to think of it, why am I here in first place? Shouldnt Jamie be the person to climb down the ceiling and get covered with soot? Gritting my teeth, I drop the subject of my mental ramblings and glance around at the objects available. Actually, theyre not legally available. I place my fifty dollars on the counter which is covered with clothes and hats, before picking out what Jamie should wear. Because eye and hair colour are the two things which help distinguish people, all I require are contacts and a wig. There are so many options on the shelf, but I know exactly what I desire. Forget about Jamies requirements on how it should reflect her. Im just going choose whatever options appear more appetizing. Internally, I wonder if appetizing can be applied to beauty products before opening the door and closing it behind me.

Did you get it? Jamie inquires with her cheek in one of her palms, clearly bored. She cant care less if I brought the sun on a leash; nothing interests her. All of a sudden, her eyes grow and shine. Oh my gosh, Peter, look up. Following her orders, I gaze over to where her mouth is wide open into a grin, and a weather rooster is on the roof. Its one of those signs showing which direction the wind is heading toward, a rooster made out of iron sitting on top of the signs. She watches in awe as it turns ever so slightly. You have the most ridiculous sense of humour. I do not. She pauses. I like mutant chickens. I rest my case.

TMFOAKW

Jamie frowns for the third time in a row. Its amazing how a person can damage their forehead, creasing it permanently, but still not have the brightness to halt the action. Maybe its how she doesnt understand the whole concept of this. I dont blame her; I barely have much clue what Im doing either. Peter, what on Earth are you building walkie-talkies for? Theyre not walkie-talkies. Gosh, I sound like a whiny toddler. Im going to have a piece in my ear and you will talk into the other part. And what, exactly, is the point of all this? So you can tell me exactly what to say to Courtney. I dont wanna ruin my first date. Jamies mouth spreads into a wide grin. First date? Are you kidding me? I had my first kiss when I was twelve. She pauses. With Erik, of course. We just tried it to see what it felt like. Its my turn to be surprised. Somebody like Jamie isnt somebody who Id expect to have a racing personality. I expect her to still be single and not kissing anybody for a long time. Lifes never what is expected sometimes, I guess. All of a sudden, I feel myself regret notifying Jamie about Courtney being my first date. Or rather, will be first. It'd be pretty ironic if she decides to get food-poisoned, just to avoid me. Can't blame her if she does; I have a hard time liking myself as well. How can I possibly convince somebody else to do the impossible? Jamie gives me a death-glare, and I sigh, letting words of explanation spill. "I'm home-schooled. Or tutored. My birth was never registered, so I didn't have to go to school. At home, I learnt everything I know. You obviously didnt stay home long enough, she mutters under her breath, but I ignore her.

So I dont know what its like to be in high-school. Have a normal life. Have friends, even. I shake my head. Why else do you think I put up with you? Good point. So long story short, you wanna make the night memorable? If so, why dont you pour ice-cream down her face. Itll wash all her makeup off. And shell remember it. Forever. Ooh, somebodys jea-lous. She waves her hand dismissively. Puh-lease. Beautys utterly subtle. I mean, once you die, its all over. On the other hand, if you were extremely ugly but kind and rich, people will remember you for eternity. Rolling my eyes, I pretend she isnt right which she is and continue working on my invention. This is going to be so mind-blowing-ly advanced, even the greatest scientists in the world cant reinvent this. Theyd have to search through my entire life, second by second to find out the basics of this model. Then theyd fantasise of ever rediscovering the exact materials Ive used, greedy for my mercy and insisting I notify them. I will play with their brains. Using this powerful device, Ill attach the earpiece to their earlobe and speak my slow but mesmerising words, which theyd fall into my trap. Theyd plunge themselves naturally in a well full of water, gulping for air and sometimes waving their hands frantically. Their heads are bobbing amongst the dark-blue waves. Of course, Id just stand back and watch them suffer through their doom, a hysteric chuckle escaping my throat. Inventors were the people who killed my grandfather, right after he invented the nuclear bomb. This will be revenge for what theyve once done to the closest person; the only one who told me to follow my heart, do what I think is right. Not what my criminal family desires my future to be like. The whole ploy excites me ever so slightly. I begin my kind-of-evil scheme immediately, fixing some loose materials with superglue. Slowly and steadily, I begin to piece all the objects together, resembling my work to completing a jigsaw puzzle. I chew my lower lip in concentration as I trace my fingers through the range of patterns, pretending I know exactly what Im doing. When in reality, Im as clueless as a cow producing wool. Of course, I dont let the expression appear on my face, and Jamie appears almost well impressed. The days flick by quickly, as Id sit at the table everyday and fiddle with the wonderful invention. Sometimes I would just admire it from the sidelines, while on some days, Id build it on a more positive note. Days begin to pass like seconds on a grandfather clock, every ticking noise numbered. Just like my heartbeat. After three days of building the fantastic invention, I wonder if I can live onward. Reveal my secrets to success to the world and watch hysterically as they follow my steps. Of course Id give them false advice. Within a couple of months, people will be wearing hats on their arms and underwear on their heads just because I said so. The queen will congratulate me on the wonderful achievements Ive made in life, kissing and hugging until she can bear it no longer. Eventually, she decides that she no longer deserves the crown, and it should belong to someone else. Somebody strong, courageous and fearless but also kind and generous to certain people, that is. Then Id place the crown on my head, and well all live happily ever after. Finally, when a week flashes right before my eyes, my invention is complete. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie! Its finished. I finished building it!

She snorts with irritation, scratching her ridiculously knotty hair and her eyelids half-dropping, obviously not appreciating waking. Puh-lease, Peter. You ordered that from the internet, remember? It took seven days for the delivery. She yawns, her snowman pajamas standing out from a distance. I sigh with defeat: A guy can dream, right?

HOPING NOT TO FAIL AT A FIRST DATE

My lips crack every two seconds, as I lick them, desperately trying not to get too nervous. Sweating like a pig and racing out the door as if somebodys killing me isnt my ideal first date, not to mention, Courtney will probably never look at me again. Plus, if she does dare to catch my eye, shell divert her attention in a different direction. Itd be much easier than starting a conversation. Of course, shell have another boy next to her, tall and dark-haired. He will give me a scowl before looking at her lovingly, holding her hand and leading her to the sunset. Ewrlack. I cough before fixing my tuxedo. This is it; the moment Ive been waiting for a week. Todays the day I show her that the boy who pats plants can be one of the nicest, sweetest and kindest person she has ever met. Jamie is beside me, fixing her mascara. Since were going to a restaurant, she insists on joining another table with somebody else. Somehow, the fact she might another boy to mingle with appeals to her. Every so often she will excuse herself and give me advice on what to say, because a whole conversation revolving around cheese isnt date material. Got everything set, Pete? she says, pressing her lips together after applying a coat of lipstick. The last thing I want for you is to have toilet tissue stuck to your pants. I scowl hard. Very funny. Ha-ha. I try. Together, we walk down the hallway and out of the double doors, exiting the hotel fully. The fancy restaurant is close-by as we strut toward the shop, our noses held high. Jamie has jeans and a full-sleeved top on, despite how shes supposed to appear elegant. I guess this is one of the things I admire about my hostage; she doesnt care what shes supposed to do, rather, what she wants to do. All of a sudden, I realise what my father would say if I spend a single penny toward a fancy dinner. Hell have my head off for sure. Instead, I forget every thought except what Im not going to say to Courtney. No way am I telling her Im a kidnapper, nor bringing Jamie up anytime in the conversation. Definitely am I telling her about my grandfathers unfortunate death, nor about my dads twisted sense of humour. Not once am I involving Mum and her pick-pocketing skills in a discussion. Oh, and finally yet importantly, cheese isnt going start anything; why start a whole conversation on it? Jamie points toward the door, and we enter. The streetlights which gave us light a second ago have disappeared out of sight, mosquitoes not biting at our necks any longer. There is a soft navy blue in the sky, and although assumingly dark and intense, something about it makes me feel insecure. As if nothing can happen at this time of the day. Sure enough, Courtney is dressed in a long, flowing red dress, reminding me of tomatoes by the resemblance in colour. Shes flicking through the menu, a quizzical brow raised upward, and when she sees me, her lips twitch into a smile.

Through the rainbow-coloured lights hung on the ceiling, I make my way over to her, my heart beating at an abnormal rate. If she can hear the unusual pacing, my reputation is ruined. Not that I have much of a status in first place. The black-and-white checked floor shines with polish, but doesnt feel slippery under my feet. There is a soft amount of murmuring, not many people talking, but loaded with rich clothing and plenty of food on their plates. Again, the question of how Im going to pay the entire meal off catches my attention, but Im sure Father wont mind if a few dollars go toward food. After all, whats the point of having a credit card if Im disallowed to use it? Its amazing how quickly Jamie found someone to sit with. One minute ago, she was standing next to me, mirroring my concerns and the helpless feeling of not knowing what to do. The next shes face-to-face with a man wearing a beanie, freckles and buckteeth, but still quite attractive to the females eye. He laughs at something Jamie says, his eyes sparkling as he says words which I cant hear. Not that its any of my business, nor do I care what my hostage is doing behind my back. As long as she doesnt escape, she can pash a guy in the corner for all I care. A shudder sprints down my spine at the thought a guy would actually want to kiss her. Oh well. I guess nothings impossible. Courtney gives me one of her best smiles, biting her lip and looking gorgeous. Its amazing how beautiful this girl can appear without any artificial beauty. I guess makeups something which girls use for self-confidence, but at the end of the day, they look way better without. Hey, Peter, she says in her velvet voice, offering me a glass of wine. Howre you? Drinking the glass I feel queasy as I hesitantly ask, Would you like anything? Well, since you offered Maybe a chopped lamb with mustard on the side? Itll be much better than anything else involving fish. Smiling, I ring the small silver bell at the middle of the table. The waiter approaches me, a mustache fitted perfectly on his egg-shaped face. He twitches his lips before asking for my order, a pocket-sized notebook in his hand and a pencil in the other. Chopped lamb with mustard on the side, I say, catching Courtney and watching an impressed expression appear on her face. Oh, and maybe a glass of lemonade plus chicken curry. The waiter nods before setting off to work, his uniform undoing itself and his hat crookedly placed on his flat head. When hes off to his work, there is the soft murmuring of other people, getting louder by the second. Our food arrives as we eat in silence, both of us wanting to say something, but not certain what to say. Courtney finishes first, and when I finish the last mouthful, I call the waiter to take away our plates again. She shoots me a coy smile, causing my heart to melt. Just like Sophies; so sensitive and understanding. As if she knows exactly what Im feeling, she darts her eyes over to a couch at the corner. There is glass floor underneath it, enchanting the leather sofa. We stroll together toward the seat, her hand in mine. As we sit down, Courtney begins talking and I wonder if shed ever shut up about restaurants. But being the patient future-lover I am, I dont complain the slightest, pretending

I like hearing about how her father accidentally leaves his glasses in the freezer and ambles half the country, just looking for it. Psst, a voice says from inside my ear, in a hushed whisper. Jamie. Peter? Is that you? Yeah, I reply. When Courtney shoots me a suspicious look, I simply say, I mean, yeah. I have family with bad habits as well. And Jamie as well, huh? She nudges me. Come to think of it, whyd you guys break up? Things werent working out, I say, immediately hearing a snort from deep inside my ear. Jamies girly voice erupts. Kiss her already, you idiot. You do it, I hiss into the speaker, watching Courtney give me a look questioning my sanity. A bleak smile forms on my face, as I quickly try covering up my mini spasm attack. What I meant was All of a sudden, there are groans from people all over the restaurant. For a second I think myself as saved. Then I realise there must be a reason for their groaning, therefore, it might be Jamie. Oh God, what did that nugget-inchocolate-dipping girl do this time? I curse under my breath before searching the crowd for her face. Sure enough, I find it, but shes not the centre of attention. There is a small boy, racing about in his tangled blonde hair and ragged clothes. He looks up at people pleadingly, begging for money, whilst they either ignore or shoo him away. Quick, Peter, look the other way and he wont come here, Courtney says, her tone filled with disgust. We might just escape. Im surprised at how cold she is, but dont let a word utter out of my lips. Instead, I find the boy looking at me with her clouded green eyes, so unreadable. He holds out her filthy hands, and all of a sudden, Im aware of Jamie not talking to the boy opposite of her. Instead, shes watching my every move like a savage beast searching for its prey. But I ignore the whole world, leaving my eyes on the beggar. He cant be more than eight, let alone having a good education and life. When he stumbles over to me, I raise my hand for him to stay there. To be honest, I have no clue why he listened to me, as I stand up and call a waiter. For all he knew, I could be calling somebody to get rid of him, severely damaging him bones for daring to amble into a restaurant. But there must be some sort of expression in my eyes, because he doesnt move a single finger. Something about me mustve stopped him. Yes, Im here. Anything I can help He notices the boy for the first time, his lip curling. Ill get rid of him, dont worry. Hell make sure No, no. Theres no need. I stand in front of the boy. Could you give me an extra dish of food? In a takeaway bag? Ill pay for it, I promise. The waiter appears suspicious, but does a bow and says, As you wish before walking away, his pudgy fingers twined together. What are you doing? Courtney snaps. Now all his beggar friends will come here. Quit encouraging them.

Tell me, Courtney, why are you so against them? Face it. These children have parents as criminals. Scandals who have done the wrong thing and ended up broke. Theyre the reason we have so much killing these days. And So youre blaming the children for something their parents did? I say, not in an accusing manner, but in a flat tone. She has no idea about my genuine history, and how Im forced to do things against my will. Is it my fault I was given birth to? Did I ask to be in this certain family with not the slightest hint of perfection, ready to attack somebody. My nose wrinkles, as I consider notifying Courtney of my little secret, and if she were anything like Sophie, shed be loyal for many years to come. But somehow, I cant bring myself to it; Jamies the only one I trust with my history, because I know shell protect it. Speaking of Jamie... I observe her, chatting to the same man with her face resting on her palms, but sneakily stealing a glance at me. When I catch her eye, she quickly looks away and laughs at something the man says. Now that he has taken the beanie off, I see tufts of red hair underneath. He says something; she laughs again. Maybe Im the only one noticing a pattern. Yes. Once a criminal, always one. Doesnt matter how many generations go by. She sighs, her eyes twitching. Im sorry. Lets forget about this whole thing, and continue this date. I nod in agreement, and right then, the waiter arrives in his perfect uniform. He hands me a paper bag, which I hold until he saunters off to some other deliveries. When hes finally out of sight, I hand the paper bag to the boy with a slight smile on my face. Dont eat it all at once, I advise. The child nods but not the slight bit of a smile crosses, as he walks out the glass doors. He must be through such pain, suffering and hunger, he cant feel happiness anymore. Laughter must be something next to impossible in his life. There is a buzz in my earpiece, and I hear Jamies voice saying, Peter, lets go. The guy Ive been talking to is trying to hit on me. But weve barely been here! I exclaim into the microphone, so softly that Courtney, who is fixing her necklace, cant hear. I dont care. Lets just go. Sighing, I explain the whole situation to my date. She looks surprised, but warmly agrees to another date two days afterward. My heart can leap out of my chest at that moment, because if she hates me so much, she wouldnt have agreed to a second date. Unless she was a nice person afraid of hurting feelings, but shes not like that. As a wise person my grandfather had once told me, You need to perceive how a person acts with an animal or child to see their true character. In this case itd be beggars, but still in the same category.

As I wander towards the door, I flick open my wallet and pick out my credit card. Jamie sees me heading out, and stands up, but I stop her by whispering, Stay into the microphone. She grudgingly obeys my instruction, because she knows itd be suspicious for Courtney to see both Jamie and me in the same restaurant. Jamie would have to somehow sneak out when Im out of sight. I hand the credit card to the officers, as they dont look at me once, scanning the hard bit of plastic on their machine. His eyes bulge, and I can see he hasnt had sleep for a long time. Declined.

ROBBING BANKS
Courtney, whos watching from the distance, shakes her head and sighs. It must be humiliating for her to think Im her date, especially since I cant pay off any of the food. Jamie is now behind me in a flash, regardless of what my date will think. I really didnt need to think about Courtneys feelings; she has already left me and started flirting with a man wearing a red jacket, not paying any attention to what Im doing. Its the second time in row I decide shes too unemotional. Normally, people would rush out to me and help in every way possible, but not her. Shell forget Im even there. Jamie, beside me, whispers, Give him your drivers license. Not certain about what good thatd do, I complete her request. The man takes in between his large fingers, which I imagine are big enough to squish me into tiny pieces. Of course, this is a complete fake version. I had never taken my driving classes; this license is purely a forgery. My birth wasnt registered in first place to apply for driving, let alone include it toward a license. You see, Jamie says, more confident now. Well get the money tomorrow. We promise. But for now, you can hold Peters driving license as compromise. Her voice drops the professional edge. Do we have a deal? The man shrugs. Yeah, whatever. But wont the kid need his driving license? I am just about to tell him I dont require it. The hotels walking distance, Ive already captured my hostage, and I can easily head home on a train or a bus. To my dismay, my hostage ceases me at my tracks, shooting me one of her famous death glares. Ouch. She knows how much I hate them. Yes, hell need it all over the place, she says dramatically. I mean, well also have to go on public transport for not having the license. She hushes her voice to barely a whisper. Peter is a risky driver; he needs to show his license about three times a minute. Trying not to feel offended or mad at Jamie for those untrue words, I nod in agreement. Thats right; I nod to two completely ridiculous statements, whilst a cold, hard chuckle escapes the mans mouth. At least one of us is enjoying ourselves. Jamie hangs her head down low, as if committing a crime putting the entire nation at risk. Okay, then, he says finally. Remember, tomorrow. Well remember, Jamie shouts back, before heading towards the hotel. Halfway there, she slaps me on the arm in a snake-like, menacing way. By the unnatural way it stung, I can tell she did it on purpose. What did I do to deserve such a hard slap? Is it my fault that the credit card was denied? A tiny voice in my head whispers in agreement; that it was my fault. But I disagreed with the mental voice completely. Its not my fault my father decided to give me a card, which somehow, doesnt work. As Ian would suggest right now, whilst picking his nose, Maybe the batteries ran out? I would cease myself from not face palming. Youre an idiot, she whispers.

Oh sure. Just blame the boy with a false credit card. Its the best way to get justice on your side. Shall do. You already have. And so I did. Not knowing what to add to this useless argument, I continue to dawdle with my hands tucked safely in my pockets.

***

Jamies painful singing wakes me. What a wonderful start to a sunny day, where the birds are flying and the grass is green, the sky holding the sun that shoots golden rays. I wont be surprised if they all melt away in shame in reaction to my hostages terrible singing. She throws the bed-sheets off me, as I rise from the sofa which Ive been forced to sleep in, thanks to her famous tantrums. Let us go, Pee-terrrr. We shall go rob a bunk A bunk? She seizes the opportunity to slap me on the arm. No, Genius. A bank. You know, where you keep lots of money? Yeah, I know, I say scornfully, rubbing my arm with tenderness. Within three minutes, were all dressed and ready to head out of the doors. Jamie places the disguises on around her face, the blonde wig and the contacts, before wearing a beanie on her head. The beanie appears so familiar, but I cant remember where Id once seen it. When she catches me staring at the hat, she appears uncomfortable. Its the guys beanie from last night, she says, much to my surprise. I asked for a souvenir and he gave me this. A souvenir? Is this what she asked this random guy? I can imagine his discomfort as he gives away the beanie which has probably been his for many years to a complete stranger. Im just about to ask Jamie what the point of taking it is, but she simply waves her hand dismissively. As if reading my mind, except deciding its not worth debating. Sighing, I follow her as we head towards the bank. Nobodys going to recognise me anyway; after this mission is complete, well be on our way to the next possible country, using our false passports. Were outside the bank, trying not to act completely suspicious. I know I neednt a disguise, but I add a fake mustache to my appearance, in case there are risks involved. Jamie has my gun under her coat. I wonder if I should

notify her that it looks like a real gun, but shoots bubbles. However, I decide against the fact. Its not as if she asked me in first place. As soon as we step into the bank, theres only a couple of people. Maximum of fifteen, meaning itd be even easier to knock everybody out of the way, grab the money and flee for our lives. Jamie must be thinking the same thing, as she stands there and points her gun at a couple of people. They gasp, their alluring eyes shining as they look at her. Possibly, they think shes going absolutely crazy, but thats something Ive learnt a couple of weeks ago. It gives me a head-start on the world, knowing somebody is completely and utterly insane before others grasp on the concept. Give me the money, and nobody gets hurt. Impressed by her snarling voice, so genuine, she points at one of the desk clients. They raise their hands in horror, surrendering to the girl. Of course, Jamie finds herself immediately in control of their decisions, as a slow smile forms on her lips. Her hands is now in front of the trigger, threatening to push it. Both she and I know shes not going to do it, and if she does, nobody would get hurt. Only her reputation will swivel down the drain. The manager a woman with red curls, wearing a Manager badge on her t-shirt arrives with a scornful look at her employees for holding up a line. When she witnesses the situation with her own eyes, they bulge out of their sockets. You there. Put the gun down, and nobody gets hurt. Funny. The nobody gets hurt is exactly what I said, Jamie says. What do I look like to the audience? A boy whos just the girls assistance in crime, merely standing there awkwardly? Are they waiting for me to pull out a hidden bomb from under my shirt? Ignoring the rhetorical question my mind asks myself, I stare every member down with my eyes. They gaze back, fear lurking in their pupils and eyes growing wide at my narrowed ones. Okay, here. The manager flings four one-hundred-dollar notes. We both know she hates giving up to a fight, but what if Jamie shoots some of the customers? The managers job will be lost. Take it and go. Dont hurt anybody. With her sweetest smile and my best evil grin, we strut out the door. Behind me I can hear the relieved breaths of people, their soft murmurings filling the atmosphere once more. A male voice declares how he saw his life pass before his eyes, but I didnt stay enough to hear more of his memories. Instead, I hold up my hand. Jamie high-fives it, before stuffing the notes in her pocket. For one reason or another, we both burst out laughing. That was awesome! she screams. I mean, the entire Ill hurt you thing. Being very careful, she pulls off her contacts and places them in her pockets. In case the manager decides to chase us, my hostages eyes will be unfamiliar. Mimicking her actions with my mustache, I say, Absolutely between hoots of laughter. Gosh. You should be the kidnapper in this situation. I pretty much fail.

Aw, Peter. You dont fail. Just epically and utterly bring misery to everybodys name by not bringing success over to your side. Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a whole lot better. Youre very welcome. Interrupting out minor dispute, we find ourselves in front of the restaurant. Jamie steps inside first, picking out the notes from her pockets and smiling broadly. There is the man from yesterday, scowling at her for a second, before realising she owed money. Immediately, a slow smile spreads on his face as he accepts the four-hundred dollars. Appearing rather grudging, he says, But its only three-hundred and thirty five. Your bill, I mean. Jamie winks at him. You keep the change. If its possible, the mans grin grows wider than I ever thought possible. We exit the eating resort, as the bulky man waves at her. I think hes found himself a new friend; actually, Im sure he considers Jamie one of his best amigos right now. We head back to the hotel, where I lie back into the bed my hostage stole away from me. The couch is so bumpy, the floors gotta be softer and more comfortable. My hostage is changing her clothes in the bathroom, taking a shower as it sounds like from running water and saunters out with a towel around her head and casual clothes as her outfit. She shakes her head at me, but smiles. Was the couch comfortable? she teases, sitting next to me. Oh yeah. Felt like heaven on Earth. I roll my eyes, just in case she didnt notice my sarcasm. I sit up, facing her so my nose is ten centimetres away from hers. How was your night? George wont leave me alone. She makes a face. He phoned twice in the middle of the night, but you probably didnt hear it. Is that the guy who you met yesterday? Yup. And Im regretting going to that stupid restaurant in first place, she huffs. But mind you, George was only one of the guys Ive met. There was another one But instead of listening to her, I continue to play with my fingernails. Finally, Jamie brings out a whole tub full of ice cream and dumps it straight on my innocent toes. The freezing mixture numbs every centimeter of my feet, he coldness reaching straight to my head and freezing my brain. Its the kind of mortification received when sending an ice block straight down my throat and letting it freeze my insides. In other words, not very comfortable and easy at all. Hey! I mange to shriek out, my eyes bulging out of their sockets. What was that for? For existing, she says casually, slapping her hands together like people do after completing a mission. In this case, however, it wouldnt be a supportive task, because I dont approve of her actions one bit. Oh, and did you know hockey is the best sport in the world? No, its no I was about to tell her Ive never played it, but she refuses to listen.

Glad that you agree. Now lets play a game at the local hokey centre. Please tell me its air hockey, I say hopefully. After all, in that kind of sport, I stand a chance. But in anything physical and active, I might as well rot in a dark and stormy prison. Not a chance. Now come on. Regardless of my own feelings, she drags me out of our hotel room and towards the hockey centre. It had walls the colour of oak trees and the roof was an electric blue, people in their own separated area, enjoying a game of hockey. Or maybe theres a kidnapper among the huge crowd, forced to attend in this horrific sport by their hostage. No, I take it back. Im pretty sure Im the only kidnapper in this entire room, and Jamies the only captive cruel enough to force me into this. The minute I enter, I see somebody I wish I never saw in first place. My brother, Ian.

Yo, you are the bees knees of the awesomeness of the world. His hands cross together like gangstas these days achieve, his head slightly crooked and a serious expressions plastered on his baby face. Word. It takes me a while to register hes talking to a blonde girl with sparkling brown eyes. Instead of running away and screaming, or shoving her handbag into his face and telling him to never agitate her ever again, she giggles like a maniac. Or rather, like she had swallowed a whole bottle of wine. Then she pinches his cheeks as if to show how cute he is, while my brother gives her a toothy smile. Actually, its not so toothy, considering one of his buckteeth has chipped off the other day while he was riding his bike. Apparently, he ran off a cliff and forgot where the brake was. Thanks to his forgetfulness, he ended up in hospital with stitches on his upper-lip, and the damage is visible by one glance at his chipped tooth. Wanna plant one right here? he says, pointing at his lip. Without a minute to think his decision thoroughly, he stands on his tiptoes and kisses her directly on her lips. But instead of cheering and kissing him back like I expected her to, she screams and slaps my brother. Ow! What was that for? he asks dumbly, as if he genuinely doesnt recognise the reason behind the slap. Girls are so freakin unpredictable. Of course, he says this once the blonde girl has disappeared. And brothers are complete idiots. Although Ive been dreading to see him, talk to him again, I cant help a smile crossing my face. Youre an idiot, Ian. What can I say? It runs in the family. Jamie mirrors her smirk with Ian, saying, Ooh. Peter-boy just got burnt. I elbow her in the ribs, but cant help a small smile forming. My brother is growing up so fast and learning all these comebacks. Of course he learnt from the best, because nobody is better at making up comebacks or curses than I am. Except Jamie, but shes not entirely human, so it doesnt count. At least, unless normal humans have a peevish desire to lurch down disgusting combinations of food down their throat. Which I imagine most dont. But it seemed like a minute ago when Ian was still in his diapers, evilly dropping food on the ground and letting me receive all the blame for it. I guess its what is expected in a family full of criminals even the babies turn out to be criminal masterminds at a very infant age. Hey, does anybody else feel like leaving? I say, but Jamies arm stops me. Scared that you will fail? Failures not even in my vocabulary range! Hardly anything is in your vocabulary range, Pete. She rolls her eyes. But if we must, then cmon. Without saying anything further, she drags me back to our hotel room.

*** Todays another day, I think wearily.

I kick away blankets from my body, jumping out of bed to check my laptop for updates. What if Jamies parents have already replied to the email, waiting for their sometimes-annoying-but-alright daughter to come back home? Will they pay the ransom money, or fake their excitement? After all, not many people I know would like her home. Ian would hate her and so would my parents. Shes far too innocent, but has a devil within. Turning on the computer, I wait for the screen to load. After forty-five centuries, Im able to search on the internet for Facebook. When its open, I log into my Doug-Less account. Sure enough, theres a message: Dear Doug-Less, or rather, Jamies kidnapper, Thank you so much for the brilliant offer, but we dont want her back. You see, were far better without her. Shes far too bossy and annoying for our tastes, and if you hadnt kidnapped her, my husband wouldve thrown her off a cliff. So thank you for saving us agony. If youd like to use her for your personal interests, I give you full permission. You must be thinking, These are her parents! How can they hate her? The truth? Shes adopted. We adopted her last month, and she was nothing like what we expected. And since we couldnt find a polite way to slaughter her, we thank you, again, for taking her away. God bless you, Miranda (Jamies foster mother)

Her parents dont want her back, unwilling to pay any of the ransom money. They hate her, just like I predicted everybody in the whole world would. I hate it when Im right.

AN UNEXPECTED REPLY
Jamie stares at the screen in horror. At first, I think its because her parents couldnt care less about her, because thats the same expression Id have. A tiny bit of me pains, because she lied to me. She told me her father beats her and her mother left, when in reality, shes somebody from the orphanage. But telling me she was in an orphanage for her sixteen years, and finally she found foster parents who dont care; whod be proud to admit it? No, I dont blame her for lying about something in this situation. Surprise strikes me when she reads one line aloud. If youd like to use her for your own personal interests, I give you full permission. Shes seething on the inside, by the way her teeth are grinding together. Finally, she says, What the heck is that supposed to mean? She gazes at me, her light-brown eyes flashing in anger. I feel my cheeks grow warm. Im not going to, Jamie, I mutter under my breath. Trust me. Its her turn to flush. Yeah, she mutters awkwardly. Whatever. You better not consider it. Smiling crookedly, I say, Unless Im ever in the mood for a broken arm. Exactly. Desperate to change the subject, I ask, Why did you lie to me about your history. I mean, you were an orphan. Yeah. I left home, pretending to have no parents. The orphanage took me in immediately. That makes a lot of sense. I dont blame her I wouldve done the same thing in her situation. Anything to get away form my own parents would be amazing. All of a sudden, I find myself considering running away to an orphanage after my thirty days are over. My father would never find me, my mother wouldnt notice I was missing, and my brother wont bother searching for me. Its the perfect getaway. Jamie continues to speak about her life at the orphanage, how she hated living there. Apparently, she missed Erik too much, because he was her next-door neighbour and the orphanage was about two kilometers away. Why shes telling me all this information, I have no clue. She must trust me or something. Then again, if I had something to say at all, Jamie would hear it before anybody else, and shed be the second person into a piece of detail if my grandfather was alive. To my dismay, he died, so now Im stuck with telling her minor tidbits of my life. For some reason or another, I dont trust my family, but rely on a complete stranger with all my personal feelings. So whatre you going to do now, Peter? Jamie says after finishing a story of her and Erik, when they threw up in the car. Now that you know my parents arent going to give you any money.

A bleak smile spears through my lips. Once a criminal, always an offender. Ill find a way, but it might not be fully legal. Sure enough, I find the most easiest way of getting money. Creating a new account under the name, Bradley Picture I begin to search the internet for the @ symbol. Once I find every email address possible, I attach them to the same message and send the same message to every account. Greetings, holder of this email address, Ive found the perfect solution for all those acne problems. Just send one dollar to my credit card number, and Ill send you a risk-free trial. Hope to hear from you soon, Brad Credit card number: 8438-3232-4355-7723 Spamming? inquires Jamie, making a face at the screen. I click send and every email race to their rightful owners. Really, Peter? I never thought you could be so low. Anyway, why are you only requesting one dollar? So that if they pay it, I wont feel too much guilt. If they pay. Im willing to bet they never will. To my utter disappointment, Jamie is the one with the accurate predictions, as I wake up the next morning without any replies at all. Dont get me wrong, there are many requests for me to Get lost and Stop sending messages. But none which provide me with, Oh yeah. Sure. Ill pay the dollar. All of a sudden, I realise something: my credit card was denied. Does that mean it wont be accepted? Frowning internally at my foolishness, I turn to Jamie. You know, credit cards what are denied probably cant be transferred to, she says, reading my mind. When I continue to glare at her for not telling me this yesterday, when I searched for email addresses for almost three hours. She holds up her hands defensively, expecting me to shoot her in the chest. Hey, I liked watching you do something rebellious. I snort. Jamie, darling, I begin, spitting at the word darling. How do I say this in a way youd understand? Im a kidnapper. If thats not rebellious, I dont know what is. Youre also a kidnapper who: A. Comforts hostages when they discuss about their previous relationships. B. Falls madly in love with a girl who believes criminals are absolute pests. C. Spams the whole world asking for only one dollar. D. Forgets his credit card doesnt work. E. Doesnt know how to gag a kidnap-ee properly. F. Licks the rims of coffee glasses to stop people from drinking it. G. Cant play the guitar. H. Is self-conscious that their eyes are too far apart. She pauses, ready to begin again if I dare her. My finger pokes the air, and this is when the greatest comeback of all time flows out of my mouth. So what? I mumble under my breath. Uh-oh. If the greatest comeback in the world is So what? everybodys doomed. No wonder kids whore bullied can never reel themselves out of the situation. Saying, So what? to a bully is similar to committing a social suicide, leaving the entire world behind.

So what? Jamie scoffs. Is that the best you could come up with? Firstly, my eyes arent too far apart. Theyre merely Thats not what Courtney said. She stuffs another scoop of vanilla ice cream in her mouth, clearly enjoying herself and the torture shes giving me. She said your eyes are like beads glued too far apart. I say the most pathetic thing possible next. Of course, I dont intend for it to be so utterly miserable, but it turns out that way. You dont think my eyes are too apart, do you? She examines me closely. Nope. Theyre in the right place. Course, lets remind ourselves I find mutated chickens beautiful. Yeah, how can I forget? Out of everybody Ive met, its only the weird or strange things I remember. Like my cousin Jonty short for Jonathan who thinks that cucumbers are the root of evil. We used to be the best of friends when we were younger, although hes two years younger than me. I havent seen him for about six years, minimum. Next, theres my aunt Harriet who wears earrings around her fingers. Apparently, they look classier than ordinary rings. Of course, since Im simply a kidnapper and nothing more, I wouldnt know. Next, how is not being able to play the guitar a negative? She snorts at me, as if tutoring a cow to produce wool. Because I can. Duh. With her sentence hanging in the air, I decide to head down to the supermarket. Todays my second date with Courtney and a second chance I dont want to spoil anything. Everything requires perfection and flawlessness. Of course, I need something to show her how sweet I am. Handing over a whole tray of food to a beggar seemed to be a bad idea, causing the complete opposite reaction to what I hoped. Why dont you buy her a box of chocolate? Jamie inquires with a raise of her eyebrow. Everybody loves chocolate. Deciding shes right, the first place I enter is the supermarket. There are the beeps of the cash registers as people hurry to their cars, driving off to their important business. Me? I had all the time in the world, as I searched through the different aisles for something perfect to buy her. All of a sudden, I realise I dont have any money on me. The credit card is denied, and all my money had spent itself somehow. Jamie smirks as I exit the supermarket with a scowl plastered on my face, sitting on the bench outside and plotting the perfect crime. Perhaps I can nick it when nobodys looking? No, the security in this particular shop is too high on levels theres no way I can get past without anybody noticing. Next to the supermarket, there is a music shop. Filled with microphones, guitars and everything musically possible. I chuckle internally at the word-playing. Musically possible. Ha-ha. Oh, Im so funny. When I amble through the shop, there are racks of CDs everywhere, the worker with headphones firmly attached to his ears. Hes bobbing his head up and down at some rock music finally, somebody with proper taste in whats good and bad. With a smile forming on my face, I ask, Hello, I was just wondering if we could borrow some instruments? He frowns, shaking his head. My face falls. Jamie rolls her eyes before taking the lead.

When we say borrow, we want to use them for a small amount of time. And then well give you ten percent of the sales. Again, the man shakes his head. I have a hard time not pointing at my hostage and jumping up and down in laughter, because for once, shes not heard. Shes not flawless. Jamie appears as shocked as I feel; shes the kind of person who gets what she wants, when she wants. Not used to being said no to, I can tell. Please? she asks. The man leans forward, staring at Jamie, gazing at her up and down and snickering in a sick way. Whats in it for me? he asks, his black hair, which is smoothed out with gel, now blowing thanks to the heavy air-conditioner. Jamies whole body tenses, her fist now in a clench. Shes going to hit him. Normally, I wouldnt hold any protests, but we need this man on our side. Hell call the police if Jamie dares punch him in the face. How bout we give you twenty-five percent? I say. Thirty-five. Thirty. He outstretches his hairy arm. Deal? Deal, I reply, shaking his hand.

***

Jamie taps her fingers against the guitar, whilst she sets up the microphone. You do realise that Im not going to sing, right? The last thing I need is for people seeing me, a kidnapper, and thinking Im some kind of opera singer. She sighs, as if expecting me to say this. I guess Ill just have to sing, right? My eyes narrow. Oh no. I didnt consider the option that shed have to sing; I thought shed just play the guitar and wed be rich. A couple of people are watching us set the entire area up, their shoes clacking against the off-white hard floor. The lights are so bright, Im sure theyll have no problem heading home. Internally, I wonder why bother turning the lights on; its only five oclock in the afternoon. Jamie holds the microphone in her hands, ready to sing and ruin the hearing of many residents of this particular town. Its up to me to save both their and my hearing. Put the microphone down and nobody gets hurt, I warn, my eyes narrowing. Jamie pouts a little before handing it over, but does it all the same.

She plays the chords of a very familiar song, and surprisingly, a rock song. I cant help admiring her guitarplayign skills; her fingers are delicate, moving to the rhythm of my voice. They are so long and skinny, whilst mine are so small, its hard to wrap them around a guitar in first place. Your and My Teardrops by Shadow Hunters. Here I stand, comprehend, Im into tiny pieces Will you love me? Dont pretend. My tears arent weapons You can use, to cut inside, But you wont get to see what I-ee cry, Your teardrops and not mine. There is a burst of applause, as stashes of coins bounce from all directions, right into the guitar case. Were rich. The thought never crossed my mind before, but now its the only thing circulating my thought. Whod think my singing was enough to drive this crowd wild? Jamie grins like an idiot, counting every cent until she finally ends up with a grand total. I cross my fingers, awaiting the result which would change my life for eternity. It has to be around a hundred dollars, maybe even one thousand. Six dollars! she exclaims. Then, as an afterthought, adds, And ninety-five cents. Or maybe not.

CHILDISH GAMES
My hostage stands beside me as we stroll through the shopping cue, giving way to the elderly people in front. Were all standing at the express counter, because since we have only a bow of chocolates, its fewer than twelve items. Jamie has a wonderful eye when it comes to junk-food, because shes the one who saw the box of chocolate selling for four-dollars and ninety-nine cents. This is a genius decision, because it means Ill have thirty-six cents all to myself. After paying that worker his thirty percent of the sales. What more can I possibly want? Ignoring my inner sarcasm, who appears to have a large mouth, I move a couple of steps every time somebody pays and leaves. Which leaves us finally, to meet a teenaged boy with dark brown eyes, tanned skin and a perfect smile. I catch him winking at Jamie and then purse his lips with bulging eyes. For all he knows, Jamie and I might be dating. I gently shrug, whispering, You can have her if you want. Jamie slaps me on the arm and laughs nervously, whilst the boy behind the counter plays with his black curls. Somebody gag me; Im watching two people flirt right in front of my innocent eyes. Only when the lady behind me yells something about being in a hurry, does Jamie and the boy take their eyes off each other. I catch a quick glimpse at his nametag. See ya, Nick, I say before collecting my receipt and heading outside. Jamie is beside me, her eyes still on Nick. With a sigh, I order her to give me her number. Frowning, she listens to me for once and I write it down on a piece of paper. Nick is now serving another woman, but as hes pressing the buttons for her to swipe a credit card, I slip the piece of paper in his pocket. Her number, I say simply, before walking away. Jamie looks horrified, pleased, excited and ecstatic at the same time. How is it possible to feel all those emotions at once? Is there a special name of the certain facial expression? I believe it might be something like Horplexec. Deciding this is what Im going to call the new expression, I continue to listen to a rambling Jamie. Have you seen his eyes? God, theyre so ridiculously gorgeous. And his hair Quit being so horplexec, I complain. Youre making my head spin. She frowns, probably wondering why she never heard the expression before. It means horrified, pleased, excited and ecstatic all at the same time, I explain. How could you have never heard of it? All the cool people are using it. Really? Yup. It feels good to lie.

TMFOAKW

Im sitting beside my one and only love, her hand in mine as she smiles at me with those perfect teeth.

Maybe its just me, but Courtney is more beautiful every time I lay my eyes on her. Her lips are now fuller than usual, as a reaction to the lipstick, and her glass-blue eyes are staring at me. Possibly trying to see through my body. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I find myself struggling to keep my breathing even. Pulling me into a hug, she then pulls away with a bemused expression on her face. I must be staring at her like a blind man gazing out at the sun for the first time, or even a rabbit discovering carrots. What? she whispers, barely audible. I cough with clear discomfort. Nothing. Jamies sitting beside us, chewing her food with narrowed eyes. I cant help grinning, because she must be losing her appetite just staring at us. Unfortunately for her, no boy wanted to sit with her this very minute. All of a sudden, a million thoughts cross my mind about Jamie, and my pathetic admiration. If it wasnt for her telling Courtney about dating, we wouldnt be here right now. Instead, Id still be roaming around Earth, looking for a way to prove myself to the people whore supposed to accept me, no matter what. Of course, this will never happen. Even if I fail this exercise, theyll still keep me as a part of the family, very friendly and forgiving. But Ill never be accepted. Ian will take all the glory of the family, making both my parents proud and leaving me behind in the dust. In addition, if it isnt for her, Id never find another person to share my feelings and emotions. My parents are the last person on the sharing list; they cant tell if Im upset, even if my face streamed with tears, sparkling in the heavy rays of sun. Instead, they assume I have sweat from running far from the police, in which case, theyre instantly applauding me. Nowadays, I dont say anything to my parents. No emotions or feelings, and they make no effort to display it, either. Sometimes I wonder what we appear to a third person, so unemotional and cold, only exchanging pieces of dialogue when debating official business. No family talks or personal chatter. Jamie rolls her eyes for the second time in an hour. But instead of ignoring her, I roll mine skyward, mimicking her actions precisely. Finally deciding were boring her to her fatal doom, she stands up and wipes imaginary dust from her long, black gown. Wanna play something awesomely awesome with cards? she asks with shining eyes. When neither of us replies but continues to stare at her in curiosity, she gathers a deck of cards. More like snatches it from a man, snarling her teeth to back him down. Lets play snap! Its Courtneys turn to roll her eyes, which she does professionally, but accepts the challenge anyway. Jamie decides we cant look at the cards, just so the game is more challenging. Secretly, my mind nags onward about why she doesnt play something most normal teenagers would. Poker is a good example. But I dont dare to ask, just in case it scores me a lecture which would embarrass me in front of Courtney. After all, my date has no clue about my history, meaning she would believe Jamie and I really did date. This will automatically become the first symptom towards brain damage; going out with a girl who prefers snap over any other mature games. As expected, my hostage shuffles the cards so fast, I cant keep a single card in my viewpoint. Casually as she shuffled the cards, she deals them out so fast, Id miss them being passed within a blink. I cant help wonder where she

learnt to handle cards so expertly. Maybe at her orphanage, people played cards? For all I know, maybe this was the only source of entertainment. One which doesnt involve sacrificing young children by burning them to ashes. Courtney watches, unimpressed, her hands folded tightly across her chest. You guys are so immature. Peter, can you tell her this is baby stuff? You go ahead, I say, nudging her. But I mean it. If she had a problem with Jamies childish games, she should tell her off not me. Shed listen to you more than me. This is one hundred percent true. Although Im not certain of Jamies relationship with my one true love, Im sure shed rather spending the whole day with her than me. For all Im concerned about, she prefers Courtney to be her kidnapper. It would be a sad thought, yes, but its true. Everybody hates me. Even my own parents are ashamed to be seen with me, just in case Im recognised as The Very Nice Boy Who Always Shares. Its enough for them to vomit. About half and hour later, both Jamie and I are still playing. Courtney is filing her nails and muttering under her breath due to boredom. A part of me feels guilty, because I should save her from this tragedy, but what if Jamie cheats during that time? She hates losing after all, who doesnt? Just the fact Im losing must cause her to seethe, rip her hair out of her scalp and howl like a werewolf on a full moon. Internally, that is. Snap! she yells, as pair of two aces reveals themselves on the pile in front of me. Youre going down, Peter! Am I the only one hearing the hysteria in her voice? This girls crazy. A lunatic, fruit loop and a madcap. Yet, I continue to play a game of cards with her, letting her cheat twice during the entire game. Does this mean Im abnormal? Will I smell myself in five seconds time and reek of a vampire, result of her contagious werewolf hormones? As soon as five seconds pass, I drop my cards and pick up a spoon. Courtneys eyes light up when she sees me away from the game. Her bored expression returns as she slouches back into her seat, this time, the slightest hint of disgust on her face as I lick the spoon before sniffing. This is the best way to check for bad breath, and for all I can tell, Im lemon fresh. Unfortunately, my hostage seizes this opportunity to grab all of my cards and hoot like a hyena, her fingers rubbing together in glee. I let three tut-tut sounds escape my mouth. Here I am, thinking Im the immature one, when all it takes is a glance at Jamie to prove my suspicions wrong. All of a sudden, Courtneys head strikes up, a peevish expression on her face. Some people are so immature, she begins. Tell me about it, I think to myself, rolling my eyes. I mean, they, she continues, flinging her arms into the air, dont bother to take care of me. On our second date. She sends me a cold, hard stare, her teeth baring ever so slightly. Never a good sign. Oh! Courtney! Jamie says in surprise as she packs away her cards. I didnt see you there. Some second date, huh? She smirks at me, making my blood boil. Now you know why I dumped him. We can always go bowling, I offer to Courtney. Oh God, please dont make her mad enough to dump me. Im too young to get rejected by the only girl to look twice at me. I mean, if you like bowling.

She grins from ear to ear. I love bowling. This pretty much settles it, as were caught ambling across the bowling centre with borrowed shoes on our feet. Courtney turns out to be a natural, striking every second time she throws the ball. Although this mightnt be too impressive, this is her third time bowling. She never had much practice to begin with, and I cant help feeling pride on my behalf. Now, Jamie? Shes a whole different story. Despite how strong and muscularly she appears, picking up a bowling ball seems like a challenge. Huffing and puffing, grinning like a maniac when she finally picks it up, she flings it towards the nine pins in front of her. Immediately, it races down. Straight into the gutter. The disappointment in her face is clearly visible, as she picks up another ball with determination. Normally, a person would get a strike in ten shots, consecutive to each other, because Courtney and I decided my hostage required more practice than we needed. But even when Jamies on her twenty-third shot in a row, she fails to hit it anywhere near the pin. At one stage, it went straight into the gutter, rolling itself backwards. On her twenty-first shot, she didnt let the ball go completely, whilst it dragged her along the slippery surface. And her list of failures travel on, and I cant help grinning. Finally, Ive found the one thing Jamies not perfect or acts like shes flawless at, while Im average. Not as good as Courtney, but nowhere near the failure Jamie has turned out to be weirdly enough. I mean, somebody wouldve needed to train her to fail so epically. Its purely not natural. Courtney is off to buy a drink and Jamie and I are sitting at the table; me too tired to take another shot and shes scared of failing. There arent much people around us at all, I realise. Sure, there are teenagers dancing around to music and drinks in their hands, or elderly people taking their shots of a lifetime. However, its so easy to sneak away and have nobody notice were missing. Just traced into the thin air. All of a sudden, a hand clinches around my waist, cutting off my air supply, and another over my mouth, muffling my scream. I watch as a man or woman in a ski mask mirrors the actions done to me, dragging us both outside. Panic rushes through my mind. Whatre they doing? Who are they? They shove us in the van, the sound of locks being clicked echoing through my ears. There are ropes tying my hands behind my back. If only Jamie could mingle her way through, untangling me. But this is impossible to do. Theres no escape. The van ceases, both Jamie and I jerk forward in reaction. Slowly and steadily, a figure unlocks the door before steeping back to let us observe it. She or he takes off the ski mask.

THE KIDNAPPER GETS CAPTURED

The mortification hits me in an instant, and watching Jamies eyes bulge, I realise were mirroring each others expressions. Courtney? Jamie whispers, her eyes narrowed. But why? A cruel smile spreads through Courtneys face, mascara dripping from her eyelashes and down her cheekbones. Slowly, the blackness of the substance spreads through her entire face, from down her slender neck and down her tight, black-leathered suit. This is a side of her Ive never witnessed, as I watch her rub off foundation with her fingers. Underneath the deep layer of makeup are pimples, acne and everything possibly wrong on skin. Her beauty vanishes, revealing the true monster within. Face it, Peter. You never loved me. You dont know the first thing about me. Which is? I persuade her to keep speaking, a sick feeling at the pit of my stomach. Im a spy. I work against kidnapping, which I assume its what youve done to Jamie, she states, glancing quickly at my hostage, before narrowing her eyes. Unfortunately, in case you havent noticed, kidnapping is out of the question in Australia. She pauses. There were police who followed you when you arrived at the hotel, suspiciously. Easily, they sent me as a spy. But why didnt you tell me? I say through clenched teeth and fists. Why was it such a secret? We couldve been a great couple, you know. A chuckle escapes her throat; deep, cold and as abruptly as it began, it ends. As if I ever liked you in first place. It was the perfect excuse to follow you without being suspicious. Her eyes darken, and even in the dim moonlight, I see a smile playing on her face. Once a criminal, always an offender, she whispers, every word deep in meaning, plunging straight into my skin. My head swerves around, my teeth gritting against each other as I perceive her with tears forming deep inside my eyes. But she cant see it, because right then, she shuts the door of the van, leaving only darkness to await me. Right now, I know exactly whats going to happen. Ill be sent to prison for committing a crime, and when they finally communicate with my parents, both my mother and father will be recognised and then sent to jail. Fortunately, Im the only one with the negative thinking, as Jamie mutters ways to escape this entire situation. I want to tell her its impossible; no matter how fast we run, we can never hide. Theyll win at the very end, lock us in prison with no hope of escaping. Its stupid to even consider proving myself to my family so naively, without properly thinking the situations through to the end. How about we cut a hole through this van? Not going to work, I murmur. Maybe you can slam your body against the

Lets leave me out of the dangerous situations. I must be on the verge of tears, because Jamie drops her arm idly around my shoulders. She pats me softly on the back, and I begin to wonder if Ive misjudged her. Maybe shes truly a nice person on the inside, but tries not to show it. Ive once read in a magazine that there are people who pretend to be mean, just so others dont ask for favours. Maybe thats Jamies problem, and perhaps I can help cure Dont worry. Ill make sure to stay three metres away from you when you slam yourself. Maybe not today. Its all it takes for me not to begin screaming at the top of my lungs, giving Courtney another problem to face. Heck, I think I loved that girl, and look at what good it created. But another thought pops itself in my head. Shes right; I didnt know her the slightest. All I gathered was how shes the most beautiful girl ever, is fully against kidnappers, works in a hotel and is a spy. Basically, is this enough information for somebody to fall head-over-heels for one? Or is it far too little information to even think about attraction? Inside, I feel it was true, genuine love. Crushes, like the one I had on Sophie, are never strong. But Courtney No, its final. Im in love with her. And I hate how much power it gives her over me. Thats the tricky thing about love; it gives people the power to adore somebody unconditionally, but also shatter their heart and soul completely. Im never going to fall in love again, I mutter under my breath, but Jamie manages to hear it. She snorts before exhaling a deep, sorrowful sigh. Easier said than done. Erik pretty much haunts me every night. Just before I close my eyes. We sit in the silence, and every so often, the van would roll across a bumpy road, both Jamie and I flinching when were hammered against the inner-walls of the can. Courtney and the others know exactly what theyre doing; locking the outside so a professional lock picker cant break out simply. There has to be another way to exit this vehicle without picking a lock of any sort. The entire area is empty, with not a single twig to be found. Again, so I repeat, Courtney is a genius. Another frightening thought crosses my mind. What if shes not the mastermind behind this ploy? What if theres another faceless boss over this entire operation? This might change the whole thing around, because I might just perhaps recognise them. My heart beats faster than lightning, as I whisper my suspicions to Jamie. She comprehends the meaning of my words straight away, standing up and hitting her head on the roof, before sitting and rubbing her head tenderly. This wasnt part of the plan, but anyhow. Using her loudest voice, she yells, Can you guys hear me? I need to go to the toilet. No answer, just snickers of three people listening to the most lamest music. Surprisingly, not pop, but country. The misuse of the English language is almost driving me insane, along with the, Yall and Howdy Id never use in public. Unless it were for a play, and I got a role as a cowboy. But thats the only exception.

If you dont let her go, shell break out. Right here, right now. It works like a charm, as the van halts to a stop, parked right beside a tree on a dirt pathway. A figure opens the truck door, and I identify the person immediately, but not as Courtney. I swallow a mouthful of mere spit, gazing up at the boy. Nick? Jamie says in a shocked voice, her eyes widened. But What are you doing with them? Hes wearing an identical, full-body suit, tightening around his waist and chest. Staring right ahead at Jamie, a smile plays on his lips. But not the warm, filling smile a grandmother gives to a newborn. Much more frightening; injecting venom straight through and skin and to the bone. We tracked you down using your mobile phone number. How? I ask, not pleased with how my voice falters. I waited at the counter, watched you two stumble ahead and then tried to look innocent and nave. Its Jamies turn to ask a question, as she says in a clear voice, How did you know Id give you my number? Face it, he begins, flexing his arms like macho men on television do, when advertising exercise equipment. Im irresistible. As soon as the words escape his mouth, I observe Jamie seething. Her teeth are gritting together, and I realise she has been almost as foolish as me. Almost, that is. At least she isnt convinced on falling in love with Nick like I am with Courtney. The mobile phone mustve made tracking us down a piece of cake, but how did they manage to follow us before our number was revealed? Before I can ask, Jamie stumbles out of the truck and hops towards the plants. For a second, I question her actions, but realise the truth. Oh yeah, shes supposed to be bursting for a toilet. Thank God shes not too shocked about Nicks secret identity to forget why we stopped in first place. Unlike other people like me. Nick mustve untied her whilst I was daydreaming about nothing in particular. You make a run for it, and Ill make sure hes among the dead, Nick warns Jamie as she hops to her destination, pointing at me. Right now, I expect Jamie to bulge her eyes out, blubbering a secret language under her breath. Shes going to admit how she cant live without me, saying shell hurry back as soon as she can, if it will spare my pathetic life. Of course she will do anything to save me. Unfortunately, I wasnt quite prepared for her to shrug her shoulders, declare Im nothing to her and stroll off into the distance. A couple of minutes pass as Nick and Courtney clang their cans of lemonade together, gulping it down and letting out an ah of relief. I watch the sun slowly rise, and realise weve been in the van for almost six hours. What a great way to spend a day, huh? This is exactly what I had in mind. There is another person in this van, I remind myself, swallowing. For all you know, this person will chop your neck into two pieces. Curse Jamie and her cold-hearted spirit. Obviously she will abandon me in my moment of need. You have three more minutes left, states Courtney, glancing briefly at her watch. If she doesnt come back, youll be punished.

But thats not fair! She hates me. I kidnapped her, remember? Of course shes gonna run away when she has the chance. Courtney shrugs. Not my problem. With my teeth grinding noisily against each other, I feel my heartbeat raise five times its normal rate. Before, this girl with brilliant blonde hair was the one I saw in a wedding picture, dressed in all white and cherry-coloured lipgloss. Id be out in the front, waiting for her to walk down the aisle and fall into my arms. Right now, it seems Id do just about anything to hit her. Not to damage any of her limbs, but just to show I dont care about her the slightest. She cant take advantage of me. If she claims kidnapping is a crime, therefore, using somebody for business-related issues falls under the same category. My mouth opens, ready to spill out all this information. The fingertips of both my hands moist with sweat, as I find my voice to shoot everything Im longing to say. The time never comes. The next minute, Jamie arrives with a grimace on her face, sits next to me and watches helplessly as Nick ties her arms and covers her mouth with a fresh layer of sticky-tape. As they close the doors, I see the lock hanging from the outside, waiting for a key to fit. The two separate doors are split, letting rays of sunshine flood. None of the kidnappers wow, how did that happen? One second Im a kidnapper, the next, Im being kidnapped gave much thought on locking us in this time. They were careless, all the better opportunity for us. To my utter surprise, Jamie pulls an object shes sitting on, causing my eyes to widen in surprise and delight. A smirk spreads through her face, and she might as well start bragging about how totally awesome she is. But, for once in her life, she decides not to say anything. Lurching herself forward, she uses the best thing to fit into a lock. A key; straight out of Nicks pocket when he was tying her.

ESCAPING THANKS TO GOOD LUCK

Jamie purses her lips, ready to fling herself out the double doors. Breaking apart the lock has given us the perfect opportunity to leap out of the large gap, hitting the ground with a thud. Of course, its a very risky thing, and can risk a couple of limbs. Or maybe even losing a couple of teeth or bones. Thankfully, my mother isnt with me right now. I can almost hear her scratchy and rough voice declaring, Can you drive slower, you rat bag? Me and my son are trying to escape! With an impatient wave of her plump arms, shed mutter under her breath about aliens, only to be captured by the people afterwards. Ah, my mother. Shes a gift from heaven. A completely deluded and demented present, I must admit. My hostage rolls her eyes at my vacillation, before dragging my arm and flinging me out of the truck and jumping out herself. Its like one of those movies, where the audience stares after the van, expecting it to explode into microscopic details. To nobodys surprise, the people keep on driving, whistling a merry tune and have no clue about missing us. As soon as they stop to check up, theyre up for a nasty shock. The fact they might scratch their hair out, trying to solve this mind-boggling mystery brings a cruel smile to play on my lips. Thats what you get for lying to me, Courtney, I think evilly to myself, a wicked expression covering my face. Ive landed with my fingertips touching the ground, my mouth open, knees bent and feet flat on the ground. Hauling myself up, Im aware of being surrounded by trees. Rather, a forest full of different varieties, dirt paths and possibly nasty surprises within the plants. The fact Im walking in the middle of nowhere with Jamie by my side is enough for shivers to crawl down my back. Obviously, my laptop is back at the hotel, meaning I need some kind of plan to grab it and race outside without anybody noticing. First things first; how on Earth am I supposed to escape this? The trees are swaying in reaction to the strong wind, as if waving at me. Before I gather full conscious on what Im doing, I wave back with a dorky grin on my face. Jamie blinks a couple of times, watching me get in touch with nature. As if she cant believe I can be that stupid. Finally, with her lips in a thin line, she grasps on my arm and tugs me so Im on the floor, my back flat. She hovers her right foot over my stomach, lightly touching my jacket. Do you mind saving your touch with nature till after we solve this problem? Maybe its for the best. After inspecting me closely, she lifts her foot off my stomach and observes me, with narrowed eyes, as I stand. Dusting off some dirt her abrupt action caused to line up in a streak, I shield my eyes from the blinding sun. Without waiting for me to start up some small talk, my hostage grabs my arm and blows some of her side-fringe to the side in annoyance. Id hate to think Im the reason for her spiteful manner, but all the arrows point to me. Shes grabbing me like Im a dog on a lead; shes not talking to me; she keeps on throwing looks of disgust to me. As much as Id like to blame aliens for this certain situations, or even some of the trees, its impossible.

Do you have a mobile phone? she asks without turning to me, merely yanking on my arm, dragging me to God-knows-where. I mean, we can always call a taxi. We find a place where theres not much dirt, slumping into the small amount of space. Empty-handed, I cant help missing my laptop. It contained so much date, things Id never show Jamie even if she happened to be the last person on Earth. In which case, Id gather some poison from a nearby store and commit suicide. Unless there wasnt any poison left, in which case Id have to get in touch with nature, swinging off vines and accidentally hitting a tree, scraping my skull and dying. A very lively picture. Picking out a mobile phone, I dial the number for a taxi. The confusion of the receiver when I tell them to pick me up from the forest is visible, even from a device which only allows audio communication. After all, what loony heads off into a forest and waits for a taxi to pick them up? A kidnapper and his hostage, thats who. When I disconnect the phone, its difficult not to let a chuckle escape my throat. Jamie is staring at me. My mouth opens to explain about the number of times Id to repeat the location, because he didnt believe me, but I closed it with a shrug. Meh, cant be bothered explaining. She continues to stare right at me, but not in a, Gosh, hes nave way. But in another, more clear way, as if trying to see through me. Like Im transparent or some kind of glass. It makes me uncomfortable, to say the least, as I show my emotions by giving a hesitant cough. What am I, a ghost? A vagary crosses my mind. Maybe shes trying to burn holes into my scalp by simply staring for hours and hours, waiting for me to blink. Then, Ill begin to disappear into thin air. Just like a ghost would. Snap out of it, an internal and more reasonable voice shouts to me. Blinking out of her mysterious trance, she asks, What would you say if I was lying to you? Her voice is so feeble and frail, hardly audible. As if shes ashamed to admit something of which I have no clue. Really depends on what it is. If you secretly love me, dont expect me to take it well. I meant it as a joke, but shivers run down my spinal chord just thinking about it. For all I know, maybe Im the last thing Jamie thinks about before drifting off to sleep, dreaming about whatever a teenage Frankensteins bride would think is normal. Maybe, just perhaps, she has a picture of me kept under her pillow, as she kisses it goodnight everyday. Youre scaring yourself, Peter, a voice interrupts, as if I havent realised the feeling of dread already. Just shut up. Guess you wont have an opportunity to throw a tantrum, because thats merely impossible, she says in her matter-o-fact voice, but her tone changes back to the slow and steady voice I heard earlier. But what would you say if I lied to you about some stuff? Well, have you? Maybe Id take it the same way you would if somebody else fibbed. Her mouth twists in horror. Youd grab their neck and twist it?

Blinking with surprise, I shake my head slowly, eyes widened. This is an insight into the secret head of Jamie Sullivan, the same crazy chick who never brushes her hair. Okay, Im lying. She does brush it every morning, but not ten times a day like most models would. In fact, she reminds me of a boy more than a girl, especially with her disgusting habits. This is the part where Id compare her to my million other friends, and how they always eat chocolate-covered chicken nuggets. If only I had any friends to begin with, because I have absolutely none. There are always my cousins, but I never spend much time at their house. I havent seen Jonathan for six years straight; nor have I witnessed his younger sister by one year, Rikki. Guess its how families roll around my place. Yeah, she huffs. I didnt think youd do it. All of a sudden, a cab arrives at our feet, spraying out dirt from the inner engines. Swerving and twisting, it breaks and the roaring engine ceases completely. Looking rather pale, Jamie opens one of the doors for the back seat, climbing in and fastening a seatbelt. I see the driver, an elderly man with a mustache with her fingers tapping against the steering wheel, dancing in rhythm to loud music. I have no clue whos singing it or what year its from, but its rock music. Thank God. I love rock music! Jamie screams to my surprise, swaying her arms in the air as wind blows at a fast pace through the windows. She stops to frown at the driver. Um, wouldnt you feel warm in that? The bus driver shakes his head, and admittedly, I was thinking the same question when I first stepped into the vehicle. He appeals to me as The Abominable Snowman, with layers and layers of clothing, from scarves and hats to piece of cloth resembling ones from a handkerchief. But like he said, since it doesnt bother him, we shouldnt worry about him suffering from dehydration and possibly suffer a painful death. Or maybe its just me who shouldnt worry about such strange possibilities. Were driving out of the forest, back to the road were supposed to head towards the hotel. The panic strikes me the minute a dollar sign is visible at the front; we dont have any cash to offer to the driver. Thanks to the many clothing around his ears, Im sure Jamie and I can properly plot something behind his back without him hearing. At least, unless he can translate everything Im saying, in which case its best to use some kind of code. Something both Jamie and I know, but the driver doesnt. Itll have to be something like Hatway reay eway oinggay otay oday? Jamie whispers to me. Translation: What are we going to do? Ah, yes. Pig Latin. I havent used that language since primary school, but its a crazy which stared well after the drivers birth. Unless he has children whove taught him the basics, hes not going have a clue. Another thought rushes. What if he does know what Pig Latin is? My life would be as good as over, but its a risk Im willing to take. Aybemay eway ancay ustjay unray utoay say astfay say eway ancay? Translation: Maybe we can just run out as fast as we can? Jamie nods and Im ready to jump out of the window, if thats what it requires. A part of me feels sorry for the taxi driver; hes such an old man, who probably doesnt have much of a life. Unless sitting at home with the airconditioning and resembling The Abdominal Snowman is an idea of fun.

Probably some nagging grandchildren who never shuts up; throw in a rebellious son and hes living the life I never want. Yet, I simply watch as the cab guides me through the entire area. It took me six hours to get there before, and now, its going for the same amount of time. After a couple of on-an-off naps and some sneaky jabs at Jamie, who dodges them all skillfully, we arrive at the city centre. Although were not at the hotel yet, I still cant resist a rush of excitement wave through me like a tsunami. It seems like years or even decades, but weve finally arrived. Well, closer to our destination than five hours and thirty minutes ago. The taxi driver appears weary, and I dont blame him. The traffic is quite tough, ready to jam up any cars lined up consecutively. Not only that, but heres a driver whos been driving for five hours straight. It seems low-classed to not give him any money, but rather, escape as fast as possible. When the hotel comes into view, Jamie turns to me with a meaningful look. Nodding my head, I begin to make my way towards the door, waiting for the car to halt completely. When it does, I hear a click sound interrupt my thoughts. The old man turns around with a wry smile, his arms folded. My hand slides over to the handle, as I tug on it, but its locked. Were locked inside this taxi.

JAMIES TABLE-DANCING SCHEME

The smile continues to light up the mans face. I feel like shouting insults at him, telling him what a cruel person he is to lock us inside like this. But he can easily shoot back with a, Well, if you had money, you wouldnt be in this situation. Hes right; if only I had bought along more money. But with the million dollars I expected Jamies parents to give me, I didnt think I needed much more than that. Of course, I never considered the possibility Jamies parents hate her, and have adopted her a month ago. Oh no, this is the most unexpected scenario for a kidnapper. Come to think of it, I shouldnt bother with this task any longer. Ive failed, havent I? Why dont I just give up on this entire situation? Because Im dreading my house, and continuing to fail at something is better than facing the humiliation? I know Pig Latin, he says simply, shrugging with lower lip curling of his upper. Shooting me a death glare and curling back her upper lip, she pinches me full on the arm. Oh, nice going, Peter. Lets use Pig Latin because its so modern, she says, mimicking the boyish tone of my voice completely. I try my hardest not to pout or start a scene. Her voice turns back to normal. Yeah, because hes such an idiot, isnt he? Not caring about my feelings, she punches me. Hard. Wincing, I rub the area she left a mark on, scowling at her. Although she may be a girl, shes stronger than whatever ninja is thrown at me. In fact, I actually stand a chance with them, whereas with Jamie, she knows every fighting move in history. Plus, I can never beat her in a verbal competition either. Girls have a way of mastering techniques with words, making them as hard-hitting as possible. After all, theyre the ones whore against violence, but approve of not speaking to each other for many centuries to come. So, you kiddies going to pay or what? The driver is now twirling his mustache idly with his fat fingers, before facing both palms towards the sky. Ive got all time in the world. Jamie seizes the opportunity to swear at me. My jaw drops in shock, because never in a million years have I heard such an offensive phrase applied to me. Grudgingly, its also among the most brilliant; so much power and fierce in a singular phrase. Im willing to bet Adolf Hitler couldnt come up with something so utterly evil. He isnt a bad person, but rather, these words werent invented back in his days. If only he could be here right now, wiping a tear as my hostages words sting me deeply. She must do him proud. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me, I mutter under my breath, before pausing with a frown. No, thats not right. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can only cause permanent psychological damage. My face lights up with a smile; finally, a proverb I can fully relate to without shame. Despite her greatest efforts, Jamie smiles, cocking her head to the side. Youre a loser, you know that?

I may have been reminded sixty-three times today. Youre a loser. Sixty-four. Instead of flirting in front of me eyes, could you kiddies hand over the money? Were not flirting! both Jamie and I scream in unison, outraged by his assumptions. Raising both hands in defense, he says, Well. You gonna give me the money or what? Wrinkling his nose, he claps both hands over his ears. Our screams have probably damaged his hearing for life; not that he has many years left ahead of him. Come to think of it, he can die this very second and well be left responsible. After the doctors figure out its due to his hearing which he died, were immediately responsible. While all these thoughts are biting away at whats left of my brain, Jamie somehow unlocks all the doors, pulls the handle to her door and shoves me against the door on my side. Realising its probably the best to head out, I open the door just before the old man can lock it. Wordlessly, I race out towards the hotel and run to the elevator, where my hostage already stands. I cant help wondering why Courtney didnt take us up the elevator last time; probably trying to make me suffer. Just the mention of her name, even if its deep inside, causes a range of emotions to cross me. From feeling betrayed about her plot to hunt me down and arrest me, to dare I say it love. Maybe its just a crush, in which case, I shouldnt have tears welling up in my eyes. When Jamie turns around, the first thing she notices are fresh tears running down my high cheekbones. Oh, wonderful. Were up an elevator and youre crying with happiness. She clicks her tongue in shame. You know what your problem is, Pete? Besides you. Yeah. Besides me, your problem is that youre too emotional. If you had been one of the macho guys I see on television, with those big muscles She demonstrates by flexing her arms so I observe the mega chucks of muscle. I cant help gaping. Theres more than ninety-percent chance shes stronger than me. Courtney wouldnt dump you, she says, then follows my gaze self-consciously. What? I think you might be stronger than me. Oh please. This is where I expect her to tell me Im the strongest person in the world. Stronger than shell ever be, and that Im absolutely perfect and nothing should be changed. Admitting my eyes arent far apart, even though she did that already, she will realise what a bad hostage she is, somehow steal a million dollars and help me finish this mission. I know Im stronger than you. Ah, what a bright ray of sunshine, I think bitterly to myself. Even my grandmother is more positive, and she swears Im getting fatter every time she lays eyes on me. My mind urges me to tell my prisoner this certain piece of information, but I hold back the blaring rage. Instead, I give her a fake smile and step off the elevator.

My captive, whos too busy being suspicious of my fake cheeriness, misses the step and has a mini-heartattack. To my disappointment, she doesnt trail down the elevator, get stepped on by toddlers and suffer a painful death. Instead, she simply falls on the ground with a clunk. Ah, karma; although not too serious, it always makes me giggle. Jamie obviously doesnt think so, as she shoots me a scornful look before huffing and muttering our room number under her breath. The minute we stroll in, were welcomed to the heart-shaped pillow and romantic suite. This is the first time in my life I wish hotel managers werent so clever with anything, because a plain room wouldve suited me just fine. Even without all the fancy wallpaper or the endless supply of soap operas, it wouldve been flawless. Just perfect. Jamie stands next too the bed and leans backwards, falling onto the bed and letting the springs bounce. Theres a dreamy look in her eyes, as she stares up at the ceiling. An idle smile twitches on her perfect full-lips, as she gazes back at me. Dont you just love watching cows get slaughtered? Is this question necessary? She yawns, a bored expression on her face. Guess not. Her eyes light up suddenly. Lets hit one of the nightclubs. Immediately, I want to protest. Tell her its insane and scold her for thinking of it in first place. But of course, Im too scared Ill be the next slaughtered cow in her mouth to say anything but yes. The whole six-hour journey led us to night time, where Im standing in complete darkness. Well, besides the fact the room is brightly lit, there isnt any sun today, but instead, a full moon. Ill be the next merciless killing of Jamie Sullivan if I dare to refuse her request, and it kind of, sort of bugs me. A lot, considering Im supposed to be the kidnapper around here. But for once in my life, I let her control me. As tempting as the idea of staying in the hotel and waiting for the sun to come up sounds, I know Ill have to go with her. Which is why I refuse. Change of mind; no, youre not going to the night clubs, I say sternly, pointing a finger at her. She sighs, before laying back down on her bed. Rather, the bed were supposed to share but she greedily stole. Captives; theyre the most annoying thing next to waking up early in the mornings, and though I havent had much experience with any others, Jamie has gotta be every kidnappers nightmare. Wears stinky sneakers, has curly hair which are a natural hazard and light-brown eyes annoying enough to wake the dead. Needless to say, she has the most stubborn attitude towards anything I suggest, making it almost difficult to communicate with her. You should go, Jamie says after a short pause. This girl can never shut up, Im beginning to figure. Only complete lunatics go to the night clubs. My point exactly. You pretty much belong there. She shrugs, ignoring the icy glare Im sending her. Who knows; maybe some of the complete geeks will mistake you for family. Well, Im not going. Suit yourself, because I am.

Before I can stop her, hold my captive down or tie her to a chair with a piece of rope, she has left the room. Of course she decides to disobey my instructions, because what am I to her? Just some random guy who decided to kidnap her, use her to prove himself to his family. Thats exactly who I am. If Jamie escapes, my life is as good as down the drain, swimming with blood-sucking leeches and preparing for a horrendous happily never after. The thought makes me shudder, but then again, who wouldnt feel creepy after thinking about Jamie for a whole five minutes. Within a sixth of an hour, Im down the elevator, out of the hotel and am crossing the street to where music is blaring out of a building. Behold; the night club. Filled with people who Ive never met and probably in no way want to encounter. Actually, I take that statement back; I know I dont want to befriend these people, smoking cigarettes, dancing like maniacs and taking swigs out of cans of what I assume is beer. There are bright lights which move in a spiral direction, shining into my eyes at one point or another. Every colour I can possibly think of has its own light. Long cues of people wait around at the stand, where they sell beer, half of them drunk and really dont need another can. Yet, they receive everything in their hearts content, gulping down another can or two. Such spoilt brats, I think bitterly to myself. If they want something, theyd just put it on daddys credit card and theyll get it. Period. All of a sudden, there is a massive round of applause. People are cheering, clapping and wolf-whistling as a girl stands up on the table. She isnt skinny but not fat either, has a lack of any curves on her body and long curls. Horror strikes me. I know her, because as she turns to face the audience, I recognise her immediately. Her knees are wobbling, faltering as if shes about to fall any second. Which wouldnt be surprising, considering shes probably had about three drinks in the ten minutes it has taken me to get here. People are clapping loud enough to burst my eardrums, as she moves around, shaking her hips and moving her arms all over the place. She begins to unzip her jacket, with no control over what shes doing. I fear she might take off more than just her jacket. The clock ticks. Tick, tock, tick tock, I hear it taunt. I cant take it any longer, because shes about to make the biggest mistake of her life. Without thinking, I sprint over and haul Jamie off the table.

THE SEARCH FOR NEW DISGUISES

There are shrieks of outrage around the room, but I ignore them. A couple of boys in their late teens are booing, telling me not to spoil the party and let her have fun. But I know Jamie well enough to figure this isnt her decision. She has had more than a couple of drinks, losing her mind completely. There are empty cans of beer thrown at my back, whilst other people start hollering, but I dont turn around; not for a second. Even Jamie is hitting me on the back, since Im carrying her in an awkward position. Im holding onto her legs, which she has dangling on the front side of my body, and her mid and upper body is hanging awkwardly, facing my back. She continues to hit me, and though I flinch from her strength, I ignore her. When I hear footsteps behind me, I realise Im being followed. But theres no time to look back, as I head up the elevator and receive weird gazes from many people. They frown at me, wondering why on Earth Im carrying Jamie on my back. Of course, Id do the same thing I were them; just appear dazed and taken-aback by the situation. I need to get her to safety before she really does embarrass herself. As soon as I arrive in front of our room, I drag her across and place her gently on the bed. But she doesnt say a word; just clutches at her head tightly, as if seeing things she shouldnt. Hello, Peter, a voice calls from behind me, but Im too frightened to revolve. So we meet again. Finally finding the nerve to spin around, Im now face-to-face with Nick and his hazardous curly hair. His eyes shine as a small smirk forms on the corner of his mouth, because he, undoubtedly, has won. Theres an object in his hands which makes me a shudder; a pistol pointing straight at me. Just one slight push on the trigger and Jamie will be dead. Hang on, a voice in my head says, confused. Why are you worrying about Jamie? Shouldnt you be distressing about your own life? To be honest, I cant acknowledge my sudden need to keep Jamie safe, except the fact Ill never forgive myself she dies. Basically, its all up to me to save her. Nick takes a menacing footfall forward, his lips in a leer. But instead of stepping backwards, I step to the side, directly in front of my hostage. The pistol-holder blinks, as if not sure what to think. But instead of pointing the gun at my captive, its me he wants dead. This fact is obvious, and in a few seconds, my entire life will be demolished. Everything I ever succeeded with in life would be meaningless, because at the very end, I failed. My brain is telling my body to run, duck or do whatever to escape from the guns eye, but my body fails to respond. Hopeless, this is what I am. You love her, dont you, Peter? he says in a husky whisper, one which runs shudders down my back. Just admit it.

All of a sudden, a hand pushes me to the ground. To my surprise, Jamie is awake and as rage glinting in her eyes. Uh-oh; Nick obviously doesnt recognise danger when he sees it, because next thing possible, the gun is pointing straight at her. Instead of backing away like most people would, she charges straight at him, shrieking so loudly, he drops his gun on the floor. She leaps on him like a tiger, placed on top of him and shrieking madly. There are a few startle gasps as hes lost for words, but I havent met anybodywho has a girl on top of them, screaming out religious things managing to look normal. He. Doesnt. Love. Me, she says between pauses, attempting to catch her breath. Dont you dare even suggest it! Oh, okay. So she didnt come to my rescue to save me, but rather, her own reputation. Yeah, guess thats understandable, but wouldnt somebody save another human being, rather than worrying about their own image? Apparently not Jamie, who has her eye bulging, hair wild and a dangerous look in her eyes. I honestly cant be that bad, can I? Shes willing to knock out a complete stranger, just because they suggested were in love with each other? If this isnt annoying, I dont know what is. Attempting not to let a scowl appear on my face, I pack up my laptop and head out the door. The minute Jamie sees me escaping, she wails, Hey, wait for me! before jogging after me, leaving Nick motionless on the floor, covered in bruises and reminding me of a mood-ring. His hand shakes for the slightest second, but drops back. Locking the door behind us, I decide to take the car out of the hotel parking and head somewhere else. Another place where neither of us will be found; perhaps another hotel where nobody can find us. But now its obvious theyve seen through our disguises, meaning well need complete makeovers. So well that they wont notice us, even if were a centimetre away from out face. This means everything from eye-colour, hair-colour facial hair and possibly even a gender change. Anything to make us blend with the crowd and impossible to distinguish. Jamie and I step inside the car, before rearing out of the garage and heading towards the other side of town. My hostage chooses to sit at the back, much to my delight. Unfortunately, before leaving our hotel room, she packed an entire bag of potato chips and begins to pop them in her mouth, one-by-one. If theres one rule I cant stand people breaking, its not eating in the car. Drop the potato chips, Jamie, and nobody gets hurt. Lighten up, will you? she muffles, another mouthful of potato chips causing her words to muddle. A grin forms on her lips, much to my utter horror. I hate it when Jamie smiles. Hate, hate, hate it. Something always goes awfully wrong when her facial muscles twitch, believe me. Hey, Pete, what would you say I accidentally dropped a handful of chips? I almost crash into another car. You wouldnt dare Oh, believe me, I will. She shrugs, as seen in the rearview mirror. Unless you stop being such a controlfreak. Im not

Is the sky blue? Im confused, but still keep my eyes on the road. Theres a red sedan in front of me, complete with an Australian flag waving at the back. Yeah, the skys. Thanks for admitting it. If its possible, Im more confused now than thirty seconds ago. I guess Jamies phrases or witty words never make sense to anybody but her. No, I take that back. Theres more than ninety-nine percent chance she doesnt know whats coming out of her mouth either. But instead of gritting my teeth and shouting religious things at her, I maintain my calmness. Ohm. Inner peace, Peter, inner peace. Ohm, a voice commands me inside my head. Relaxation comes to me in an instant, as I forget all about Jamie and her word-mangling abilities. Im driving the car at normal speed, much to my prisoners delight, meaning she doesnt have to yell in boredom. Its not my fault I hate speeding; not only does it risk my own life, there are other people innocent, people whod die from my reckless decision. Obviously, I will never tell Jamie this. Shed think Im some softie who never hurt a fly. This is not necessarily true, but it wont stop her assuming it. When we arrive in front of the hotel, I wait for Jamie to get us a room. Theres a middle-aged man at the counter with round-rimmed glasses, nodding as my hostage clearly explains not to give us a romantic suite but a plain one. She repeats the same phrase slowly a couple of times, and the man begins to grow suspicious. He has no clue about our last experience, plus, Im not the one whod fill him in on the information. As soon as were in the room, we place my laptop on the table, since its the only piece of belonging we hold. This room reminds me of a cloud, Jamie says. That was my first reaction also. The white walls, white ceiling, fluffy white pillows and blankets, a oh, the horror black television in the corner, and a zebra-striped rug decorating the floor. The desk is a dark brown, ruining the whole effect. Except for a few items, this entire room is white. Right beside where the bed is located, theres a bathroom with white furniture. Nice room, huh? Better than the romantic suite, my hostage replies, pretending to vomit by sticking two fingers in her mouth. I cannot object.

***

Morning arrives, and before we know it, both of us are heading down to the shopping centre to pick out a new outfit. Anything will do for me, as long as its not tight, doesnt reveal too much flesh and is fashionable.

Enough, anyway. Obviously, Ill have to have my hair cropped short, perhaps add some fake tattoos on my arms and change my eye colour. Grey eyes are a dead giveaway; I need to find some contacts. One which are so different from my natural colour, its impossible to track back down to me. Jamie is beside me, humming a tune which Ive never heard of, and continuing with a bag of candy swishing in a plastic bag. Its amazing how Im not surprised; she mustve bribed the shopkeeper with her stunning good looks. Not that shes pretty, but not ugly behind my eyes. She pops a lollipop in her mouth, slurping on it like a three-yearold. Desperate not to be disgusted, I say, Nice locket. I know, huh? She smiles, as she holds the piece of jewelry with her index fingers and thumbs. Remember that guy who gave me the beanie? He also gave me this. My eyebrows rise. This complete stranger, who has barely known my captive for more than an hour, gives such a beautiful object to her? Wow, some strangers are awfully generous, because this is definitely special. Jamie opens the locket to show me where two blanks places are, ready for any picture to fit, as long as theyre the right size. What is that guys name, anyway? Zane, she replies, and I cant help thinking its the perfect name for him; somehow, his look and attitude suits the name. We arrive in front of a makeup shop, where several teenaged girls stop chatting for a second to gape at me. I guess a makeup shops the last place most boys will head, but thanks to my determination of proving myself, Ill need to cope all weird gazes and stares. Im used to different ogles because of my peculiar-coloured eyes and my abnormal shortness, but not for being a complete freak. A couple of girls wink at me, and before I fail an attempt to return the gesture, theyre gone. Out the door as if theyve never existed. The thought makes shivers run down my back, but Jamies too busy looking at different colour choices to notice anything. Oh my gosh, this pink is absolutely gorgeous, dont you think? I figure its best not to answer this question. Picking up a red-and-black checked jacket, I dont hesitate the slightest before picking it up and racing out of the door with it. The alarm goes off, just like I suspected it would. Now its merely up to me to race to the other end of the shopping centre without getting captured. There are security guards with batons in their hands, as if to hit me. Theyre chasing after me, and since danger is available at every corner, I have to run extra fast. Closing in, coming nearer, closer Peter! Jamie has found me, among the security guards. Theyre looking someplace else for me, much to my amusement. What have you stolen? she says in a harsh whisper, eyes shining. Slowly, I show her the jacket. Her eyes grow wide. You have got to be kidding. Thats so lame! Try telling him that, I say, pointing at another boy wearing the same outfit. Jamies jaw drops, and for a second, I have my smug expression. I thought she was gaping at how quickly I found somebody with the same clothing item, but this isnt her point of interest. She strolls over to him, stumbling as she does very well.

Her eyes are squinted, as if trying to see if hes real. When she places a hand on his shoulder, he turns around, his grey eyes shining in bemusement, his blond hair flying. Erik? she whispers. Is that really you? Who knew four words were enough to revolve my entire life?

BEING THE THIRD PERSON TO TAG ALONG

The boy stares at her in confusion, before his facial muscles twitch into a slow grin. Jamie? Yes, Erik, its me. I clear my throat loudly, causing Jamie to turn around with annoyance and Erik with a frown creasing his forehead. Before this scenario gets cheesier than it already is, Im Peter. Theres something in Eriks eyes as I say my name; recognition, admiration? Either way, he didnt look at me like a total stranger, which I am. Instead, he nods his head and smiles before turning back to Jamie. Twirling his finger, he catches one of her light-brown curls, inspecting it as if to write an essay. With his fingers, he lifts Jamies face skyward, so theyre face-to-face. I cant help admiring his height; so tall and elegant, reminding me of a ballet dancer. Im so sorry I dumped you, Jam-Jam, he says, hugging her tightly. Barf. Puke. Spew. I begin to wipe my mouth, in case a trickle of vomit has escaped my mouth. Is this how teenagers talk these days? So elegant, like those posh people on television, making everything a bigger deal. Yet, they have no problem dumping each other when they find somebody better and shinier than the previous version. What has this world come to? Or maybe its just Erik whos annoying me particularly, by how perfect he appears. Kind of like those men heroes shown in movies, taking the girl by the hand and escaping the sunset. Upchuck. Gag. Vomit. Oh, but wait. Theres more to this story. Jam-Jam? It reminds me of the cottage cheese my grandma used to make, pretending it was jam. She couldnt fool anybody, though. At one point, Mum recommended a psychologist to her, and she went barking mad. Sent her out of the house and flung her bunny-shaped slippers at her, still outraged by the suggestion. To be honest, if I had been a braver child, I wouldve said the same thing. Tis okay. But you owe me a cup of coffee, alright? They both laugh, as if sharing a special moment, before leaving me trailing behind. I dont like where this is going. My hostage is with another person, who probably can beat me up in three seconds flat. If she dares utter a word about my kidnapping, Ill be dead. Reported to the police if Erik feels the need, and sent to jail without any further questioning. This means I have to be extra nice to Erik, and if Jamie says anything about him kidnapping me, Ill show how friendly I am. Hed have to believe me if Im nice to him, right? Honestly, my hearts not content with this entire ploy, as an empty feeling of dread crosses me. All alone, this is what I am. Why would Jamie care if Im in jail, living on a diet of stale bread and water and slowly going insane? Im nothing to her, just like shes everything to me. Shes everything I need to complete this task, prove myself to my family and be respected as part of the Maple residence.

I follow them towards a small coffee stall, where they order some cappuccino and take seats at the table. Oh, Pete. I ordered one for you as well, but youll have to pay, Jamie says, as if completely oblivious to the fact I have no money. I dont have any money, though. Dont worry about it, Erik says with a dismissive wave. Ill pay for it. A fake smile crosses my face, whereas in reality, I do not like this situation very much. If Jamie focuses too much on this Erik guy, shell forget all about the loyalty she owes me. I havent killed her yet, have I? Doesnt she owe me something for this? No, a voice in my head replies. You wouldnt have killed her in first place. This is why she has so much confidence. Because to her, youre just a boy with a laptop. Cant even swat a fly. Swat a fly, is that right? My teeth grit against each other, but neither Jamie nor her ex realises it. Theyre too busy discussing unfamiliar memories and different secrets. Even gossip about people I didnt know existed. As I sit down on the third chair on the round table, I twiddle with my fingernails before a waiter arrives with a three cups on a tray. She hands me one cup, hands Erik one and Jamie another. Just like he claimed, Jamies date hands over the money for my own coffee. I thank him without much intention, because hes ruining everything for me. Not only has he got Jamie hypnotised under his high cheekbones and perfect toothpaste-ad-worthy smile, but shes probably going to do anything for him. Anything. The word itself causes a great deal of uncomfortable electricity to spread. Jamie, I think we have to go. I scan around, pretending Ive seen somebody. We need to go shopping for disguises or something. Sure. Can Erik come with us? Pretending Im not about to hit her, I say, Sure. Its amazing how ungrudging I sound, even though Im seething internally. This Erik guy is taking over my whole life, and although I shouldnt let him do this, I dont seem to have any other choice. Chivalrously, he holds out his hand for Jamie to hold as she stands. A dreamy looks crosses her face, and I cant help wondering if medication is required for this type of illness. When I finally catch Eriks eye, I cant help wondering if I know him. He appears so familiar, although not the face structure, but the top lip and eye colour. After all, the Maple residence is the only family Ive met with grey eyes, so who is this stranger? Thankfully, Erik doesnt seem to notice my observations or the fact Im staring at him. Hard. Instead, he strolls with us; Jamie in the middle, me on the left and Mr. Romeo-person-whos-ruining-my-career on the right. When we finally arrive at another makeover store, I confirm my jacket is nowhere to be found as I step inside. A faint smell of perfume spreads through the air, a woman in her mid-twenties at the cash register, her dark brown hair

in a tight ponytail. In this certain shop, they sell everything from makeup to handbags which females are shamefully interested with, dragging them along to every occasion. There are teenaged girls who continue to stare at me, rubbing their eyes twice to check if there truly are two males in a shop designed for women. But instead of winking at us, they turn away and their chattering voices grow louder. Girls; who can understand them? I watch Jamie eyeing the females, as if understanding every word. Expect Jamie, that is. But then again, shes not just any girl. Shes my hostage, a person who hasnt escaped, despite the many times she had a chance. If theres one person I trust right now, besides my dead grandfather, its her. The real question is, however, does her loyalty lie with me? Or would she reveal all of my secrets in exchange for a meaningless kiss from Erik? The thought, for the third time in an hour, makes me shudder. I hate this whole incident Ive gotten myself into. Why had I come to this shopping centre, watching Jamie and this total stranger flirt vigorously in front of my eyes? Maybe, just perhaps, if I went to another shop, this wouldve never happened. But its too late to change things. Guess Ill have to go with the flow, watch Erik pay for whatever Jamie requires to buy, and sets off outside, forgetting completely about my existence. I hate being the third wheel. Hate, loathe and abhor the entire situation. Detest, despise and whatever word there is in the thesaurus. She hugs him again, right in front of my unsuspecting eyes. How long Ill tolerate this, I have no idea. Maybe in a couple of seconds, Ill have to murder a certain somebody, whose name begins with an E and ends with a Rik. But of course, Peter Maple isnt a violent person nor unfriendly enough to kill somebody completely. Theres always a first time for everything, I think darkly to myself. Jamie, I still cant believe its you, Erik gushes after they bought an ice-cream loaded with three scoops. One vanilla, the next honeycomb and the third caramel flavoured. The ironic thing is, they didnt bother to ask me for my opinion. For all they cared, I could watch them eat ice cream and not let me have a single lick. I mean, its been so long. Yeah, my love-sick capturing says under her breath. It has, hasnt it? How long will this last? Will the agony ever end, or is it like a jack-in-the-box? Just when Im sure Ive got everything under control by spinning the wheel at top speed, the actual surprise springs out at me, a creepy smile formed on its face. Is there more to this relationship but the cheesiness and the need to gag every five seconds by observing them? Perhaps theres actual history, or did they decide to get together after they were left single? Jamie had once told me about their adventures by the pond, collecting frogs, but any lonely girl can make up a story to keep herself from appearing desperate. Cant they? Or maybe youre just jealous. The minute some idiotic voice plants the vagary in my head, I know Im going insane. After all, what normal person thinks theyre jealous? Not I, because Ive never been jealous in my whole life. If I ever needed something, I told my mother and shed somehow manage the cost. Actually, shed steal it from the shops at midnight, in her full black outfit and gloves. Either way, Ive never felt envy in my whole life. Does this mean Ill have no clue what covetousness feels like? Storing away this idea at the back of my mind, I continue to stare at the two people gazing lovingly at each other.

With a small smile, Jamie creeps closer towards Erik. My eyes widen. Oh good Lord, this cannot be supreme. Erik, with his lips slightly parted and eyebrows raised idly, leans forward. Before the two can make any rushed decisions, I step in with a hysterical, Who wants to play checkers? Both of them turn to me; Erik with a shrug of approval and Jamie with annoyance. At least they havent infected my eyes with their horrible actions. When she strolls beside her super-hot-in-her-eyes date, I trail along with a weary expression on my face. Shes sauntering so fast and facilely, Erik blinks before asking with a slight tug on his lips, as if halting a smile. Youre so fast. What do play, soccer or something? I answer before my hostages lips can part to let a reply escape. Hockey, actually. Well, that pretty much settled my entire wall of suspicions. Erik doesnt know the slightest thing about her, yet, continues to hold her hand. How pathetic is this entire scene? Not only him, but my capturing pretends to acknowledge his existence all her life. By how distant theyre acting, they couldve merely met today and wouldve made no difference. Acting like complete strangers, or rather, coy lunatics who cant last a second gazing at each other without turning scarlet. Only when Erik glances at his clock and exclaims, Oh, would you look at the time! do I realise how late it has been. Eight oclock already, and thankfully, a chance to escape form the clutches of these mental teenagers. Well, guess Ill better get going, says Jamie with a slight edge to her voice, obviously stating she doesnt want to leave. Ever. Yeah, same. You know, youve never introduced me to Peter, Erik says with a creased frown. Isnt he important? Nope. Just a step-brother who Im sharing a hotel with. Well. Bye. With this, the two of them pace their separate ways. Theres a sudden vibration instantly, as Jamie picks up her mobile, a text is sent. Wud u go out wit me 2morrow? Erik. She squeals like a kindergarten at Christmas as she replies a yes. Its the first time, in the same month, I feel the urge to face-palm myself.

MY GUARDIAN ANGEL
Jamie is prancing around the room in the middle of the night, biting her lip and simply refusing to let me doze. This might be the third time tonight Ive woken up by her footsteps, so light like a herd of prancing ants, but heavy enough to wake the light-sleeper inside of me. Her hair is tied back with her delicate curls flowing down her arched back like a waterfall, biting her lip and waiting for the moment to arrive. A part of me tempts to stand up, tell her theres another twelve hours until her sickening date arrives with a bouquet of red roses, and to chill and relax at the same time. But why let her miss the excitement of a first date? Chances are, no boy has ever liked her before, and if they have suffered the crisis, they cant tell her, just in case. After all, Jamie has every possibility to dig them up a grave if they dare admit their inner feelings. Just the thought of this sends cold shivers down my spinal cords. When she finally realises Im awake, she says, Oh my gosh, Peter. Have I woken you up again? Nope. Im still sleeping. She rolls her eyes skywards at my poor attempt at humour before taking a seat beside me, sighing. I guess Im just thinking. About? Um Erik. The hesitation in her voice is easily audible, and I cant help wondering if it really is the reason shes prancing around like a herd of cows. I just cant seem to get him out my head. Oh, wonderful. Now Im stuck in a situation where Ill have to listen to Jamie ramble on about her once-in-alifetime sweetheart, plan their future wedding and stroll down the aisle. A part of me actually considers pulling some cotton buds out of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and stuffing them into my ears to halt her babbling words. But the minute I realise how unfair Im being, and how most people simply loathe Jamie, my support must mean the world to her. Therefore, how am I supposed to declare I really dont care about her love-life? I guess its the main reason for my uncomfortable feelings, because after all, I cant. Theres nothing worse than hurting her feelings at this stage in time, because after all, she trusts me to stick with her decisions. Also to sustain her when it comes to loyalty; I cant betray that. Instead, I shut up and listen to her complaining about how curly her hair is, and I cant stop myself from gaping. Ive always heard about girls complaining about how fat or ugly they are, but never about their hair being too curly. As Im beginning to learn right now, every girl thinks theres something wrong with them. Half the time, if theyre anything like Jamie, there is something severely abnormal about their habits and body structure. Opening her mouth once more, Jamie blathers on about aliens and their kingdom of unnatural species.

Theres another thing about girls Ive observed during my time as a kidnapper; theyre quick to change the subject. Whenever they feel as if theyve talked too much about a certain topic, they find some relation with one topic and another, speaking about the next one as a substitute. Real sad, but hey, Im not complaining. Just because girls are a complete different species compared to males, doesnt mean we dont share the same blood. So, Peter, thats why you have to come with me to the party. Because I havent heard a word Jamie said, I just reply with a weary, What? Let me explain again. I need somebody whos with me and Erik so the date isnt too awkward. Youre the person Ive chosen, so congrats. She clasps her hands against each other, as if getting rid of some excessive dirt off her fingers. Therefore, you need to come with me to the party, because thats where Erik wants us to go for our date. Well, this is wonderful. Spectacular, amazing, astonishing. Im going to be stuck at a party with drunk people and smoking lunatics, all while watching Jamie and her date flirt mercilessly in front of my innocent eyes. What have I done, which is so bad, to deserve this kind of punishment? Besides being born to a criminal family and forced to become a kidnapper, nothing. Exactly. Because watching people party around, going into separate rooms to lose their virginity and tasting the fresh essence of alcohol isnt my idea of a date. Or in this case, somebody elses, because Im being dragged along against my will. Somehow, I owe this to my captive for capturing her in first place how utterly ridiculous is this? But instead of worrying about her opinions, I divert my thoughts to my own. Because regardless of all the grudging and me thinking this is the worst idea of the century, I wouldnt feel comfortable if I said no to her. Not the slightest bit, not at all. Which is why I say yes, resulting in Jamie grinning like an idiot and punching me on the arm like friends do. Unfortunately for me, she doesnt realise her own strength, and when her back is turned to pick out an outfit for her legendary wedding, I wince whilst rubbing my arm. Theres a huge pink mark which can be seen, even in the dim light of the moon sneaking in through the windows. When Jamie searches through her wardrobe for something to wear, I cant help wondering how she managed to steal so many things when all the cameras and peoples faces were turned. There are lip-glosses of nearly every shade, a knee-length red gown, a sapphire-coloured pair of skinny-legged jeans and a rainbow bracelet. Of course, these are things I peer at from a distance theres no doubting there are many other things also, hidden deep inside the comfort of her wardrobe. What do you think of this? she inquires, holding up a sparkly white dress. Instead of reminding her that Im not her advisor, I say, Its alright. But you might need to accessorise with some other stuff. Nodding in approval of my answer, I blink in surprise. I cant believe I gave a girl advice on what to wear. Next thing I know, Ill be complimenting her on her choice of socks and shampooing their hair at two a.m.

Living with somebody as abnormal as Jamie has bought a strange version of myself. Not only do I not recognise myself anymore, theres no reflection in the mirror. All I see is an average human being with nothing special about them. Sometimes, I convince myself its true. How can a special person end up as a kidnapper, capturing what I imagine is the most annoying girl in the whole world. Then again, can a normal person tie themselves up in this knot also? With a shake of my head, the thoughts disappear like lightning. Well, good night then. Finally, when I realise I maybe getting some peace and silence, I fall back and slump into my pillow, only to be woken up once more. A couple of hours later and guess what I hear? Video games. Even Im not nerdy enough to play them, and yet, my captive continues to press buttons on the controller, screaming out words of pure horror to her opposition. The sound has been tuned up to the maximum, every screech of car wheels in the game audible to my delicate ears. What, in the name of jeans, are you doing? I say, my words slurring the slightest bit because of my exhausted stage. Seriously, Jamie? Playing video games, she says, her focus so heavy on the television, there are long pauses between each other her words. She doesnt even bother to turn around, look me in the eye, and answer my question. Right now, it feels like Im talking to a wall. Finally, when I cant stand it any longer, I march to the plug and pull it out. Hey! she exclaims, but Im already asleep.

***

The next day is beautiful, with only the glistening sun sending golden rays through the window. Lets go in the car, she suggests. The partys about a kilometer away. Thats not too bad. Im sure you can manage And end up with beads of sweat on my dress? Ha. I dont think so. Sighing, I take my own seat in the car. This capturing I impossible, and I cant help wondering why I chose her out of the many. Honestly, Id rather that brunette whose boyfriend broke up with her if it earns me an opinion and some respect. Because right now, I feel like a mute puppet with strings; ones which Jamie is hardheartedly tugging. Oh, the horror of ending up with someone bad enough to become the actual kidnapper. Sophie from Canada. Her face is the one helping my sanity, the aberration drifting slowly apart. The softness of her face and the way shed do anything to not reveal her fright. Tries to be a knight in shining armour, only to find out her costume is made out of rusty tin cans. So peculiar, yet alike me in many ways.

Like her, Im nobody special. Just an ordinary boy with the same needs as average children, but was born in an environment where cars are used to steal and wagons are used for carrying the dead bodies of the murdered. When were driving, Jamie continues to hunt through her purse for something. She finds it, as she scrunches up a tissue and blows heavily into it. Because my hands are on the steering wheel, and somebody can die of my carelessness, I dont turn around and punch her in the shoulder. Instead, I say, You better not dispose of it in my car. You better not tell me what to do, comes her smart-aleck voice, smirking as shown in the small rearview mirror. I grit my teeth, promising myself to never marry. If this is what all girls are like, forget it. They dont know the slightest thing about anything. Okay, that doesnt make sense. But honestly, theyre so darned shallow, giddy and giggly, its amazing how strange they are. Sure, theyre extremely social. The first time I met Jamie, she pretty much explained her whole life and even conned me into hugging her. Not to mention, most girls are amazing actresses, acting like they have a life. Honestly, I have no idea what Im going on about, except the fact Im annoyed. Irritated, infuriated, peeved. By what, I have no clue, but something. Probably Jamie and her comebacks maybe because theyre so much better than my own? No, thats ridiculous. Oh, Peter. Im dropping that tissue on your perfectly vacuumed floor, she taunts, and before I open my mouth to let a failing piece of dialogue escapes, she drops it. Just like that. On my vacuumed floor. You going to stop the car and pick it up? Were in the middle of a highway, and theres no chance Im cleaning after her at this point of time. Maybe later, yes, but not right now. I keep my eyes on the road, people steering to different places for their work, family or even somewhere to relax independently. All of a sudden, the car behind me is horning. When I check in the rearview mirror, its not a car after all. Its a truck, the drivers eyes widened, motioning me to drive faster or else Id be squashed. About ten metres high, I would imagine the truck to be, as it continues to get my attention. The minute I press hard on the accelerator, I realise the most terrifying thing of all. I cant go any faster. The cruise control is set to a low number, one which means I cant go faster than the limit. Of course, theres a road on the sidelines where I can park in case of an emergency. Deciding its the best option, I sway to the right until I arrive in the emergency stops. Only then do I realise my break control isnt working. Everything is going in slow motion, from the way my car skids across the lane to how there isnt a break pedal under my feet anymore. Or maybe there is, but it doesnt work. No matter how much I press, or how hard, it doesnt budge. As if its stuck with some superglue to the carpet. I neednt worry any longer. The minute my car builds a life of its own, swaying back in front of the truck, I know Im doomed. Every minute of my pathetic life flashes among my eyes, but for some reason, it doesnt matter anymore. The only persons memory which really matters is Jamie, her eyes widened in fright.

Nevertheless, instead of sitting around and waiting for doom to strike us, she takes action, jumping to my seat and using her hands to steer back to the emergency lane. As a substitute of letting the car go beyond the lane and crash, she uses all her force to brake the moving object. My sedan is about to crash into millions of pieces; I can sense it, with all the petrol falling out in reaction. All the energy and how I have no control over it, whatsoever, reminds me. But again, instead of letting me die out of no particular reason, Jamie pulls her arms around me. Tightly. The minute I feel the car ripping bellow me, she jerks both of us to the left, away from the road. My eyes are closed now, waiting to die. The minute she whispers, Peter, youre okay I open them slowly. There are cars rushing by, gazing at us curiously for a split second, and then keeps on driving. Some people stare at the burnt car with arched eyebrows, wondering what happened for it to crash. Several cars horn at us, just for the same of horning, whilst other people shout out, Are you okay? before driving off into the distance. Away from us. Regardless of all eyes, I continue to stare at Jamie. She just saved my life, thats all.

RETURNING LIFESAVING FAVOURS

Were at the party, dancing to the music blaring from the black speakers. Jamie is beside me, munching on popcorn with Erik on the other side. But instead of being at the movies, were at a party, although nowhere near what I expected. Thinking the guests would be teenagers drinking, Im proven incorrect, because the only people besides Jamie, Erik and I, are all funky middle-aged people. A rabble which appears to have nothing to do with drinking. When I expected lights, I thought of a dark room with different colours flashing vividly from a disco-light ball, but instead, I end up with a lighted room decorated with useless lanterns. Overall, this room exceeds my expectation. However, its not the room or the people Im thinking about at this point of time. Its Jamie, and how after she saved me from dying, and though Id never admit it aloud, I have newly-formed respect for her. She may appear as a spoilt brat, one who had no proper taste in clothes the first time I met her, but is wearing one of the best dresses this very second. Im not denying she isnt. But theres also a hidden side of her, another strong and independent version of whats already there. A part which cares about me enough to save me along with her. For all the control she had, I couldve died if she decided I wasnt worthy enough to live. Then again, theres always the risk police will accuse her of murder. Maybe thats why she saved me. So many thoughts are twirling around my head, I dont notice my captive speaking to me until she clicks her long fingers in front of my eyes. I blink. Yeah? Would you like some popcorn? she asks, showing me a bucket with barely three pieces left. I shake my head. She shrugs before saying, All the better for me and shoving all of them in her mouth. Shaking my head, I smile against my will, but dont let her see. Erik, on the other side of her, is twiddling with his fingers. The minute I turn to look at him, I see him gazing straight at me, possibly studying. Within a flash, he diverts his attention to the empty popcorn bucket, casually grabbing Jamies hand and pretending he wasnt examining me a second ago. I swallow at his hasty actions, and cant help feel a little uncomfortable. If he decides to end my life right here, right now, there wouldnt be any witnesses. Besides some middle-aged people, but all he needs is to pay them some money and theyd keep their mouths shut. Forever. I cant help wrinkling my nose at this ridiculous thought. Of course hes not going to kill me. If theres one person who has a reason to kill me, is Jamie for kidnapping her, but she kind of, sort of saved my life. I dont think shes holding any kind of grudge. So, Jamie, do you wanna dance? Erik asks, extending his hand. Its the first piece of dialogue theyre exchanged since my capturing received her bucket of popcorn-y goodness. Nothing, apparently, can separate her from food. Nodding, she stands up and I watch them waltz around the entire hall, staring deep into each others faces. The music plays louder, almost crashing my eardrums completely, but I continue to watch them. As I do, a strange feeling bubbles deep inside me. My capturing hasnt said a word to me besides asking if I want some popcorn, and I havent had a chance to thank her. Then again, I couldve died in that situation, deciding its best I havent attempted to talk.

My voice would come out shaky; so not what a kidnapper should sound like. Its not, however, the only reason I feel emptiness. The feeling that Erik doesnt deserve her, even though they claim to know each other for a lifetime. Maybe I havent met Jamie long ago, but I still know more about her than this Erik guy. So tell me, a voice taunts inside me, and I can almost see it sneering at me. Who does deserve Jamie? Me. The answer is such a simple reply to any question, yet, my eyes widen. Have I just gone there? Did I just reply to a mental voice, even though its meaning to tease me? But most of all, did I just say or rather, think Jamie is better off with me than anybody else? What does this mean? Im thinking of her romantically? The thought is so vicious and unlikely, I cant help a chuckle escape my throat. But instead, it ends as a humourless and cold laugh. And then I know. Now, Ive realised I can never look at Jamie the same. I cant stare at her, watch her laughing, knowing its somebody else whos the reason. No way can I bear to see Erik leaning closer to her, just like what hes doing right now. My muscles tense. Theyre moving nearer, closer, limiting the space between them. Jamie! I shout, breaking the two up and watching their heads snap up in shock, and then annoyance. God, I mustve sounded hysterical. I, um My tie. Yeah. Well, I cant tie it up properly. This is one-hundred percent truth, as Jamie sighs and turns to me. Excuse me, she says to Erik with her lips in a thin line, turning to me. Oh, Im parched anyway. Im gonna get some soda. With that, hes off to the buffet. Nowhere near Jamie, and as far away from her as possible. Internally, Im laughing hysterically. Now what? I admit my true feelings to Jamie, the ones Ive discovered barely five minutes ago, and we will ride on a horse and sail off to the sunset? Ha. I wish. As if I could afford a horse. Okay, did you realise we were just about to kiss then? she says, exasperated. Why else did I barge in? She sighs, leaning downwards and tying it the proper way. So close, I can smell her watermelon lip-gloss, the shampoo of her light-brown curls and the mouthwatering scent of her bubblegum perfume. Close enough for me to lean up and kiss her full on the mouth. But can I do it? No. Thats the thing; I cant. Too cowardly. When she realises Ive been staring at her for a long time, she gives me a self-conscious, What? I reply just as dumbly with a, Nothing. With that, shes striding over to where her true love, Erik, stands with his fingers motioning for her to stroll there. My heart sinks. Of course shed never consider me. Not even for a moment. Im nobody special, unlike Erik, who has the height and the looks. Although I find that both his eyes and my eyes are the same colour, but then again, different shape. Hes flawless. Im not. No wonder Jamie loves him more than me. As if se loved you in first place, a voice inside my head says with a snort. She doesnt, does she? Never has, never will. Only has eyes for one man, she does, and its definitely not me. I sigh a low and painful sigh, hoping nobody else notices, but at the same time, wishing somebody would rush up to me and spread their concern. Because I desperately need to talk to somebody, no matter who.

As long as its not Jamie, because its her Im going to talk about, and the last thing I need is her running away in fright. Taking into consideration how utterly hopeless I am, I amble through the middle-aged crowd towards a mob of elderly ladies, sitting around a table and chatting. Theyre definitely standing out, not by their age, but also by their bright colours for clothing choice. When I approach them, I plaster a smile on my face as I sit down on a chair. Their eyes inspect me, two with glasses and the other three without. Either way, theyre making me feel so uncomfortable, I consider wilting away under the table, just to prevent the humongous amount of eyes glaring at me. Um, hello. Im Peter. I do the worst impression of a small wave, as a grimace settles on my lips. My husbands name was Peter, says a woman, staring into the distance through her glasses. He died last year of cancer. She sighs, her fingers tapping against the wooden table in a rhythmic pattern. Same reason I lost my mother. Oh, Im so sorry, I mutter under my breath, only because I have no idea what else to say. Its okay, she replies. She outstretches her hand. Im Lithia. Nice to meet you, I reply, shaking her hand. The others look at me, now with smiles on their faces. It mustve been a century since a teenager chose to sit with them. I mightve, for all I know, broke a world record for sitting with the outcasts of any party. All of them appear ordinary to me, with graying hair and the same wrinkled smile, mangling on their pale faces. You know, says one without glasses. A boy like you should be out dancing with a girl. She shrugs. I mean, you pretty much have all the time in the world. The others nod and murmur in agreement, and I feel myself blushing. Yesterday, I would laugh this entire statement off, claiming I had little clue what girls even are. Today, however, one of them had saved my life. Its impossible not to give somebody, who has done so much, credit. Every time I close my eyes, I see Jamies face. Maybe its not romantic. Perhaps its just merely a stage in puberty, when boys randomly start seeing girls behind their eyelids. But either way, I see her. The perfection, and the imperfection. And yet, I still continue to squeeze them shut, wanting the image to carve on my eyelids forever. Even after seeing the imperfect side. Hows that possible? Sophie was merely a crush, but I couldnt see her flaws. Except the fact shes scared of almost everything, but then again, everybodys scared of something, right? Through all of this conversation, a couple of fingers tap on my shoulder. I have a difficult time not letting my eyes bulge from shock. Pete, you wanna get some soda? Its Jamie. Um, yeah. Im just about to get up, but instead, I feel a tingling in my stomach. All the ladies around me should be waved goodbye before I disappear on them. Sure. Just after I say goodbye to all of them. Standing on her tippy-toes, Jamie stretches her head to examine the people behind me. Although, since Im shorter than her, she neednt worry. Meet me at the bar, okay?

Nodding absentmindedly, I watch her trail off into the distance. The women around me are staring, mouth open in shock. Finally, one of them says, with a grin forming on her face, Are you dating her? What? No! He likes her, one of them whispers to another, and I literally feel my ears turning a deep scarlet. As in, more than a friend. The other nods, their eyes fixed on me like superglue. I just wanted say goodbye, thats all. Goodbye, Darling, Lithia says, squeezing my hand. Remember, to love a thing means wanting it to live. Her words send a shudder down my back, but I ignore the feeling and smile weakly at her before walking off into the distance. Or rather, where Jamie is standing with both hands on her hips, talking to Erik with a smile on her face. How did Lithia know about the car crash? Maybe she didnt. Her prediction, if I can call it that in first place, is a hugely accurate one. I cant help a series of waves washing over me, drenching me with suspicion. Its no strange somebody quotes something, applying it to me, but when it just happened about an hour ago, right before we caught a taxi here, its peculiar. Strange, abnormal and weird. All of a sudden, I watch a figure appear right behind Jamie as she continues to speak. Her lips are pressing together, arms crossed and clearly not expecting the mysterious person behind her. Dressed in all black, theyre something which intrigued my curiosity instantly. My mouth opens, ready to scream out to Jamie about the person behind her, when all of a sudden, it uses both its hands to slam her into the food. Her body charges straight into the millions of hard cookware, from glass dishes to shining glasses.

ALREADY KNOWING ERIK

If it was anybody but Jamie, I wouldnt have charged for them like this. Its all too bad were talking about my lifesaver, because just before the plates can shatter her skull, I grab her head. The glass smashes through my skin, piercing certain aspects of my arm as I begin to blink away tears. A few, however, land on Jamies arm as well, deeper than my scars. She might have to go to the hospital for this kind of injury, considering Im no doctor. But at least her head is still alright, meaning there isnt any kind of damage which cant be fixed. Without hesitating a second longer, I drag her by wrapping my arms around her waist, and carry her to Erik. He gives me a strange look, as if he doesnt know what Im doing, but soon understands as he gently takes her from me, heading out the doors with her lying limply in his arms. There are a few murmurs and hushed whispers of people around the room, but within a minute or so, theyre gone. The music is still blaring, before and after the dramatic incident, and several people find their nerve and continue dancing. I dont, however, feel the need to party at this point of time. Revolving my mind is Jamie and her laughing face. Will I ever hear her tinkling laughter again? Dont be ridiculous, a voice inside me says. Of course you will. Its not like shes dead or anything. But what if she admits to Erik Im her kidnapper? Hell possibly take her away from me and never look back. Meaning, today might be the last time I ever lie eyes on her. The thought is so terrifying, it sends a series of shivers running down my back. Ive got to catch up with them. Racing out the doors without any attention given, I watch Erik place her gently in the car. But his mouth is moving, and doesnt look too happy. Whats his problem? Jamies merely a sick person or rather, injured and he continues to argue with her? Deciding I need a closer look into this case, my pace is faster than ever before, peering at them closely. The minute Jamies grey-eyed-prince catches me staring at him, he shoots me a smile which is just visible under the dim streetlight. But even in the near-pitch darkness, I still observe it doesnt reach his eyes. As if hes forced to do it for some reason. Oh, hello, Peter, he says, slamming my captives door shut. Would you like to come with us? Itd save you from catching a taxi. Im taking Jamie to the hospital. I dont hesitate sitting in the front seat. Erik smiles before placing his key in the ignition and twisting it so the engine starts. From the rearview mirror, I watch her leaning against the seatbelt, her eyes not on her Prince Charming, but on me. Staring through me, as if Im some piece of glass. Diverting my attention away from the rearview mirror, I focus on the song Eriks playing. Its an old rock song, much to my delight. Ah, heres somebody with good taste in music. Before I know it, we arrive at a hospital with a huge building structure and a red cross situated on top.

Exiting the car, I tiptoe to Jamies door before opening it and letting her outside. She, although some aspects of her feet is cut by the glass, continues to stumble along the way, as if doing everything possible for me not to touch her. As we stroll through, there are many patients in the waiting room, waiting for a doctor to assign them. When we walk to the reception, a middle-aged woman drops the phone and smiles at us. Can I help you? Merely, I point to Jamie whos smiling sheepishly. The woman nods, then asks for my Medicare card, which I hand to her. Its a complete forgery; after all, a passport is required if a Medicare card is to be valid. I dont have a passport in first place, meaning its impossible to receive a legal one. But illegal ones are possible. When were rushed to the hospital bed, Im the one kneeling beside her as they bandage her arms and legs. The doctor is elderly, a stethoscope around his thick neck and his graying eyebrows furrowed together in a criss-cross pattern. The whiteness of his hair reminds me of Eriks pale skin. Speaking of him, why isnt here right now? Not that I want him interfering, because for the first time in two days, Jamie has her full attention on me. But still, its strange to think hes disappeared into thin air. So, he finally says after bandaging all aspects of Jamies cuts, are you two dating? If not, whats your relation with each other? The question whirls around my head. How am I supposed to explain about my kidnapping history? How if I dont complete this task, Ill be known as a failure to the Maple residence? Thats just the thing; I cant tell him things like this. No matter how friendly and kind he appears, its impossible to tell him things like this. Fortunately, Jamie doesnt need to think twice about her answer. Friends. Then, as an afterthought, adds, Best friends. So thats what we are. I cant help feeling a little warm and bubbly inside; she thinks of me as her friend. Out of Erik, he other friends on Facebook and random strangers, she thinks of me as her best friend. Of course, she might also say it to am million other people, or maybe shes just lying to make sure the doctors off her trail. But either way, Im still her best friend, whether she likes it or not. Then again, maybe shes saying it because I havent killed her yet. Most kidnappers in movies slaughter their hostages if they fail to hand money over, but does this make me not a kidnapper? Hey, Peter, Ill have to stay here, then. Kay? They need to inject some stuff to prevent infections and things like that, but they also have a busy schedule and not many doctors to do them. So I might be stuck here for a day or so. I shrug, as if I couldnt care less about her not coming with me, when in fact, Im screaming in agony on the inside. Sure. Whatever. Eriks outside, waiting for you, she says, answering my question without realising she has read my mind. Just get into his car and hell take you back to the hotel. With a, Bye, get well soon, I exit the room and the entire hospital altogether.

Sure enough, Jamies prince is waiting for me by the car, and when he watches me stroll over to him, he takes a seat in the car. Opening the door, I make myself comfortable on the leather-covered seat. For the first few minutes, its awkward, when Erik finally asks, Are you really her step-brother? His voice is doubtful, as if he doesnt believe the lie one single bit. Theres no point lying, as I say, No. Im her best friend. Just the same excuse she used with the doctor. I cant help wondering if its really true. Am I her best friend, or is she just saying it for the sake of saying something? Erik doesnt seem to answer at all, let alone any of these questions. Not that Ive asked them in first place, but still, he couldve read my mind. Simply like Jamie can. We arrive at the hotel before I can say anything more, as I open the door and amble away with a, Thank you. Have a good night. My hotel key is in my pocket, as I use the elevators and saunter until Im at my door, fitting the key perfectly in the hole before twisting it. Sure enough, with a click, the door springs open as Im faced with a dark room. With a press of my finger, the lights glow all around the small room. After turning the television on, I realise Im not in the mood for anything at all. Instead, all I want to do is lie down in bed with the lights off, thinking about Jamie for the rest of my life. Ever since she saved me from being deceased, its her face I see every spare second I find. Not Sophies nor Courtneys; hers. And its driving me insane, because I cant control who I care for, making this one of the most difficult procedures Ive been through my life. Besides being a kidnapper, that is. All of a sudden, Im tempted to search Eriks name on the internet. See what I find after searching his name, because that boy gives me too much suspicion. Of what, Im not sure, but what if hes another kidnapper? Or worse; what if hes better than me, and my father finds out, leading him to swap me with him. That would be the worst scenario ever. After inhaling and exhaling a couple of times to even out my heartbeat, I amble over to where my computer is sitting down by itself. It barely takes more than five minutes for it to start up and then I click on the internet browser. Simply enough, I find a search engine and enter his name. Oh no, I dont know what his full name is. The sudden spark strikes me at once, as I look up Jamies Facebook account. As soon as I head over to her friends list, I search for Erik. Finding him almost immediately, I discover his last name is Erik Pullaney. Huh. Even his name is perfect; well, unusual definitely, but its better than sounding like bottle of maple syrup. Come to think of it, even my first name sounds like bread as in, pita. So now Im officially bread and maple syrup. Can my life get any better? Watching a movie-star-like photo of Erik pop up the minute I search his name, reminds me it honestly cant get any better than this. But next to his name, however, theres an article on how hes a fake. At least, this is what aspects of the keywords spell out to say. Deciding this is a strange slab of information, I click on the link and wait patiently for it to load, my fingers tapping against the desk. When it finally does, I see a picture of him, blown up to the entire webpage length.

His grey eyes, blond hair and unmistakably pearly-white smile which is good enough to display on a toothpaste-selling advertisement. Sighing, I read down to the very bottom, attempting to figure out whats so different about him. Here are claims on how hes a fake, meaning that theres another identity which he keeps secretive. The entire idea seems a little far-fetched, but hey, Im a kidnapper. If thats not something abnormal, I dont know what is. But the minute the scroll down, Im accompanied by pictures of him throughout his life pop up, and then I recognize him. The age of five, when hes playing with his monster trucks, the one thing he had a mad obsession with, and pretending that it isnt mine. Of course, I let him keep the childish object as a sign of gratitude, and we became best friends from that minute forward. Theres another photo of him, building the winning sand-caste for the competition held on the beach. Admittedly, I didnt help him one bit with this task, but he managed to win without me. Since I entered the competition as well, I held a grudge for nearly three weeks, not speaking to him once. With my arms folded and my cheeks scarlet with stubbornness, I refused to forgive him. The last and final one, all by himself, is him scoffing down a cup of vanilla ice-cream. Originally, I was in this picture also, but for the risk of breaching privacy, they decided to crop me out of the scene. We both went to the icecream shop, where we coincidentally met. Obviously, I still wouldnt mutter a word, so only until he ordered two vanilla ice-creams instead of one, handing the extra to me, I had no choice but to forget his sins. At ten years old, even an ice-cream is enough to forgive somebody. As I shut down the browser with a gentle click on the Red Cross at the top, the moment of mortification hits. This Erik, the one who I havent seen in so many years, and when I finally have, couldnt open my eyes wide enough to see. Discover who he really is. Because he does have a second identity, but Im the one who acknowledges the first. So close, and yet, I couldnt identify him at first. Couldnt identify Jonathan.

LOSING JAMIE
When I wake up the next morning, I realise what an idiot Ive been. This has obviously been a set-up, with my father adding Jonathan to the scene to test me. He knows I cant hurt my own cousin, even if it means giving up my ridiculous dreams of justice and rights. But does Jamie honestly love him like she claims? No. Enough is enough. If theres one thing this whole experience taught me, some things are better done alone. Im going to march straight to the bank in a disguise, withdraw one-million dollars by threats, and walk out without any suspicion. If Jamie decides Im not worth all the trouble, so be it. The minute she has her tetanus injection, shes free to do whatever she chooses. Because from this moment onward, shes not my capturing anymore. Shes my best friend and best friends dont help each other rob banks, I presume. Marching towards a pile of my clean clothes, I throw on a t-shirt, pair of jeans and my best faulty smile. Hopefully real enough to fool people on the way, and maybe, just perhaps, they wont accuse me of stealing anything from a bank. With my lips placing in a thin line, the bitterness has sliced through my lips, and I can feel the sharp edge of it, cutting against my mouth. All of a sudden, the inside of my mouth is dry and cracked, like adding a whole layer of flour on top of my tongue. I cant believe Im robbing a bank. Sure, Ive done it before with Jamie, but with her, anythings possible. That was pure peer-pressure, and I swear, if it wasnt me afraid of her thinking Im frightened of something, I wouldve never done it. Id be as innocent as a kidnapper with no clue about what theyre doing, except the fact they have to do it. Will I ever see her again? The question revolves around my mind more than I can possibly explain, but I know its ridiculous. Of course Ill see her again. Why wouldnt I? Its just, by then I wont be her kidnapper anymore, but her best friend. The poor girl; she has no clue about this entire scheme, and how Jonathan was put up to this. Obviously shes in love with him; the way she acts when around him, like hes the only boy out there, makes everything fall into place like a jigsaw puzzle. Theres no way Ill let my cousin break her heart, although Im the one desperately wanting it from her. If she loves Jonathan, then so be it. Ive got nothing more to say or do. Sighing at how tragic this entire scene is, I identify the true reason behind my lack of high-spirits. Everythings so dull and unexciting without Jamie in the same room, breathing the same air and shooting brilliant comebacks which cause me to raise my eyebrows in admiration. Oh, look at myself Im drooling over a girl Ive barely known for a whole month. Well then. Todays the last day I have left, before displaying the wad of cash under my fathers nose. Once I have proved myself worthy, Ill wait for my eighteenth birthday, and live in an apartment of my own.

Away from my judging family, betraying cousin and my hostage, who Im receiving unrequited love from and hating every minute of it. Just by myself in the darkness, with no surroundings and anybody to embrace my humiliation. The minute I place the ski mask on my face, Im now a different person. Not the sweet, caring Peter whos always gentle to people, but rather, a new version who nobody can mock. Somebody whos not afraid to barge into a bank, demand money, and if its not given, slaughter a couple of human souls. This is what it feels like to be a kidnapper. Merciless, selfish and surreal, without the twinge of human emotion. As much as the thought sends shivers running through my back, theres no denying the life-long impact it has on me. Forever a kidnapper. Just like Courtney had once said: Once a criminal, always an offender. Letting the harsh words sink, I waddle out the door and into my car. Instead of robbing the bank at walking distance, Im going somewhere far. A place where nobody can recognsie me, and have no chance of tracking me. After all, two break-ins with a guy in a mask in the same month must be puzzling and easy to capture the person. Two times the footage, two times the chance Ill be living in a jail with nothing but stale bread. Turning the steering wheel so Im heading straight, I pullover where theres a giant sign reading: Bank. Exiting the vehicle, I lock it before racing towards my future. The only thing, actually, which would help me save this mission and accomplish. As I stroll in casually, I watch people asking politely for money. Theres a plastic screen in front of each worker, meaning no bullets can fit through the tiny hole. But of course, I can threaten to shoot all of their customers and if they dont hand over the money, itd be their fault all their costumers died a quick yet painful death. A smile appears on my face. Not a normal, happy Peter smile, but a new one. One which would permanently attach itself on my face. A darker and crueler smile, completely demented, but my smile. Or rather, what will be my smile for this second onward. The ski mask is still on my face, as several people stop chatting to turn to me. Its strange theyre speaking at all, because banks arent a place people hold tea parties. Yet, I drive that thought out of my head and hold up the gun. Everything is spinning in front of my eyes, around and around. Revolving like a cyclonic vacuum cleaner, and for a second, nausea fills my guts. What if I cant do it? But the new and improved Peter speaks up, saying, Hand over all the money, and no-one gets hurt. What makes me wince internally, was how Jamie had said something similar to this. Its too bad Im never planning to see her again. Shes gone from my life forever. Its time I start accepting it. All of a sudden, I fill myself with so much fury, its unbelievable how my breathing is normal. Why does she have to desert me like this? Best friends. Thats what she said. Yet, she had no problem leaving me for Erik during that party, and lets remind ourselves who rescued her from a near-fatal shove. People stare at me, their mouths wide-open and eyes bulging. There are a few whimpers of ladies, as they attempt to hide from me. I feel like telling them they can run, but cant hide. Will this do any good? None. Instead, I strut over to the register and skip in front of the line. The humongous line shuffles back, as people walk backwards as fast as possible, trying to get out of my way. One of my new smiles appear on my face, but thanks to the ski mask I wear, its not visible to the public.

The woman behind the counter stares at me, speechless. But instead, hands me a bag containing three hundred dollars. Its nowhere near the money I require, but I decide its enough. Ill tell Father my hostage was poor, and when I asked for a million dollar, this was all they could supply me. Plus, Ill add that they also will give an extra one-hundred dollars every month. Next month is my birthday, and when I make my escape, I wont have to live with my family anymore. Possibly even change my name to keep Maple out of my life completely. Theyll have no clue where I live. So whats the point of proving myself, if I only plan to stay a month longer? Because I dont want them to think Ive been a failure as a son. No matter how much I hate them sometimes, all the wrong theyve done in their lives, theyre still my family. I love them unconditionally, although sometimes I dread admitting it. Goodbye, I yell, before racing out the double door and running towards the shopping centre, pulling my ski mask off when its certain Im safe. If I head back to the car, theyll get my number and itll be simple to track me down. Im going to make sure theres no chance of ever getting discovered. The minute I stroll in, I see a restaurant serving many people. With a gun tucked in my coat, theres no chance of being attacked and having no defense whatsoever. Its an expensive restaurant, enchanted with bright lights, polished tables and sturdy chairs. The perfect place somebody would go for a date, although the price of food is near ridiculous. As I sit down at a table, I have no clue what Im doing. All I know is the urge to sit down here. My grandfather once told me if my heart had the urge to do something, it was possibly saying it for a reason. He told me to go wherever my heart leads me, because for the better of worse, lives can change if the central organ isnt followed. About twenty minutes into the hour, I find myself thinking how ridiculous this scheme is. I should be getting home in my car, driving off before anybody can utter a word. My parents will hear my false reasoning, and for the last month of living at home, Ill be respected and treated like royalty. Nevertheless, most of all, Ill have their approval of raising a wonderful son who followed their footsteps at one point of time. The thought causes butterflies to swim around my tummy, colourful and light. A beautiful dream, but so close to reality. Only at that very second do I witness a boy with blond hair, grey eyes and a very familiar girl holding hands. They both take a seat at a table close to me, but doesnt recognise me. After all, their backs and turned towards me, meaning its near-impossible Erik, says Courtney, picking up a menu and surfing through it, her eyes twitching slightly. Maybe you should talk to Jamie before coming here? I mean, shell be worried Her sentence is interrupted by Eriks loud snort. Whatever. Its not like were actually going out in first place. That little Instead of, however, cursing internally, I watch my fingers take control of my mind. Theyre so tiny, yet, smart enough to reach into my coat and pull out my gun. What are you doing? a voice in my head screams, refusing to let me go along with this. But my mouth twists into a devilish smile. Goodbye, nice Peter.

My trembling fingers wrap around the trigger, and if I dare pressing once, hell be dead. If my aim is accurate, the bullet will plunge straight through his heart. Who cares if were cousins? He stole Jamie away from me, not acknowledging how much she means to me. Now he treats her like dirt, instead, sitting at a restaurant with Courtney, holding hands and exchanging cheesy lines of dialogue. My fists clench. Theres no way Im letting him get away with it, even if we are meant to be family. As for Courtney, shes pretty enough to get another guy. My cousin mustnt be anything to her. But before I shoot him, I just want to hear what Courtney has to say. To my surprise, she doesnt say anything at all. However, its obvious shes uncomfortable with this whole scheme. Breaking the silence, Erik says, Shes a great actor though. I mean Jamie. Seriously, she fooled Peter so badly. He picks up his fork, stuffing some of the roasted lamb and digesting. As if he was her friend in first place. But hes a kidnapper. Completely deluded. Once a criminal, always an offender, Courtney offers. Thats the last straw. Ive heard enough, as I rise from my chair and amble up to them, over-towering both of them. It takes them a split second to recognise who I am, and when it does occur, the stupid smiles vanish, replacing with expressions of horror. Erik lips quiver, as if wanting to say something, but nothing comes. As if hes stuck on what to say. Courtney simply gazes at me with a dumfounded look, her eyes blank as if trying to work out the entire scene. I dont have time for this. My fingers are trembling, but Im ready to do what Ive been longing. The bullet escapes my gun, hitting Erik straight into his heart.

A COMPROMISE
When my consciousness regains, I wake up only to find myself lying beside a swimming pool. Were obviously back at the hotel, because not once have I seen such a giant pool besides the main building. Jamies inside the water, splashing around in her knee-length shorts and full-sleeved t-shirt. Shes laughing, watching the droplets of water cling onto her skin like superglue. My sluggish body somehow manages to sit up right, my vertical column straighter at this stage. Rubbing my eyes to clear my blurry vision, Im face-to-face with a hospital room. Jamies not here. Im lying in a singular bed, and the last few images flash into my mind like a futuristic vision. How I shot Erik straight in the heart, unable to resist anything else after he talked to me like that. Maybe Jamie truly was making up the best friend theory, but I refuse to hear the words slip out of somebody elses mouth. The fact theyre thinking about the same conclusion also, scares me. Then the vivid images of Courtney punching me back, shoving me against one of the chairs in an awkward and dangerous position. How I havent pulled a muscle is beyond me, but Im in hospital. I mustve done something painful to myself to require staying here for so long. A calendar hangs on the wall, reminding me thirty days have flashed, and todays the day my father and mother will expect me. All I have left is four-hundred-dollars. Mortification hits me, as I realise Im not wearing my coat anymore, but a hospital gown. My coat has been taken away from me, meaning theres not a single cent I can offer my parents. Because no other excuse will be good enough, Ill have to stick with the whole truth and nothing but it. Even if I do find my coat, theres guaranteed to be somebody notified of the bank robberies earlier in the week, handing my hard-stolen money to them once more. All that work for nothing. Morning, a voice whispers, strolling into he room without the slight bit of vacillation. Her light-brown curls are brushed back into a ponytail, her light-brown eyes amused. So. Whats this I hear about you shooting my boyfriend? Amused? Isnt she supposed to be mad at me, ready to throw a glass bottle or something drastic like that? Most girls wouldnt take something like this so easily, especially since I wouldve tormented their entire chance of marriage. A smile slowly forms on my face, a crooked and warm one like the old Peter used to have, before some imposter possessed the body. Jamies not most girls. Shes one of the weirdest, funniest, wittiest people Ive ever met on the planet. Moving from so many places well, actually, running away with my parents so they arent caught for the crimes the committed Ive met so many people. And somehow, I cant compare any of them to the girl in front of me, her light eyebrows arching upward and acne worse than ever. Oh, I decided he was getting a little pathetic, so decided to end the misery for him. You obviously didnt try too hard the bullet hit him on the arm closest to his heart. She sighs, waving away an escaping light-brown curl. Tragically for you, hes still alive.

I curse under my breath. Of course the new-and-improved me cant have better aim than the old version. No matter how much I change, this one flaw will remain. The same clumsy Peter who stumbles on his words before they even leave his mouth. But I just have to ask her one specific question, because its the one bemusing me currently. I dont get it. Why arent you upset? Ive just shot your boyfriend, and Im really sorry. I pause, my eyebrows furrowing together. However, if youre like me in thinking hes a complete nut, then join the club and Ill gratefully take the apology back. She half-smiles. Well. Eriks not my boyfriend for starters. And, since you dont have much time until I never see you again, I guess I should explain this entire concept to you. The thought of never seeing her beautiful face again strikes pain in my heart, but I choose to ignore it, nodding and adding a, Start from the very beginning. Lets start off with who I am. Im Jamie Sullivan, sixteen years old. Beggar. I was chosen to receive threethousand dollars from your cousin, Jonathan, if I could succeed in fooling you into thinking Im an actual hostage. You know the other girls on that day, where you were looking for the perfect captive? All part of the plot. I stare at her in shock. Shes spilling these words out, shrugging ever so slightly to emphasise theres nothing wrong with saying them directly to my face. Well, boy is she wrong. My hearts beating at an abnormal speed, as she begins to tell me about how she was forced into the whole situation, and if she didnt, her parents would be killed along with her new baby sister. They can barely afford the costs of the entire family, meaning if Jamie wasnt chosen to participate in this particular scheme, her relations would die a painful death. Nausea spreads through me, as part of me wishes I never heard the truth in first place. So much has been going on, and I didnt open my eyes wide enough to see it. If Id suspected the way Jamie looked at me, the day I gave the whole tray of food to one of the beggars, so much wouldve changed. Recently, Ive learnt exactly what expression was on her face. Pure admiration for somebody who cared about rights and dignities. How about that time where she hugged me? Normal people dont hug their kidnappers, in case theyre dead before the admiration spreads onto the other person. Jonathan mustve told her about how soft I was, letting her keep the advantage on her side. After five minutes of listening to her ramble, I had a list of newly-learnt things: One: That man at the internet caf, the one holding the newspaper of Jamie was hired. Jonathan used that to slow me down from gathering the money, and that was the only copy ever printed. It was specially made. Two: She hates nuggets dipped in chocolate. It was just a scheme to make her even more unbearable, and hopefully, work in Jonathans favour if I decide to give up on her altogether. Three: That Facebook account, the one whos supposedly her mother, was a fake. All set up and used by my very own cousin Four: Ian had helped in the entire scheme, by planning some of the things theyre to do to me.

Five: The locket Jamie has the one Zane gave her has a tracking device in it. This is how Jonathan has full information on our location, and ordered my prisoner to wear it at all times, or her family goes under the knife. Six: The diamond she was wearing, on the first day I was capturing my hostages, as lent to her by Ian. That stupid little brother. Seven: She knew all about Courtney and her part in the entire ploy. I wasnt supposed to fall in, what I thought was, love with her. When I did, the whole operation became miles easier to follow, because she could tag along without anybody suspecting anything. Eight: Zane was the third person on that truck, the day we were captured at the bowling alley. Nine: Nick was part of it. If I hadnt gotten Jamies number for him, she wouldve asked him herself. So its pretty much my fault I have myself humiliated. Ten: The van, the day we were abducted from the bowling alley, was purposely unlocked the second time around. This was so Jamie could escape with me, and so I still had a chance. According to Jonathan, everybody deserves a second chance. Eleven: The old man, in the taxi, it was a complete act and setup. After all, what man knows Pig Latin when in his eighties, and somehow, reacted so severely to Jamie and my screaming, gave us the perfect chance to escape? I felt so stupid for not picking up on that detail earlier. Twelve: That day at the nightclub. Jamie was supposed to dance on the table, and magically get dragged away by Jonathan, whod give, in his opinion, enough second chances. I wasnt supposed to care about what happened to her, and somehow, I did. Thirteen: Erik coincidentally appearing at the shopping mall. Its amazing how Ive missed out on that detail as well. He was planning on capturing Jamie and taking her back home, where shed have completed a mission. But since I didnt leave her sight, he never found the opportunity. Fourteen: Every time Jamie was thinking or hesitating, it had nothing to do with Erik or thinking I was weird. It was her own life, and how she was lying to me. Somehow, she didnt like lying to a completely honest person. Fifteen: The car crash wasnt accidental. Jonathan deliberately sabotaged it, because he was getting desperate. It wasnt supposed to explode like it did, however. It was supposed to be just a sore arm, but went too far. Jamie wasnt supposed to save me. What she did was completely her choice. Sixteen: Zane had been at the party, for Jamie and Eriks second date. He was the one pushing Jamie against the glass, just to delay me finding the correct amount of money. But why did Jonathan do so much damage? She vacillates. Thats not my story to tell, Im sorry. Youll have to ask him yourself. Hell be in the room next door. Exhaling deeply, I say, Its all too bad I dont have the million dollars I need. Jamie grins. Seriously? Do you realise how much money youll get if you claim to capture Jonathan and send him to jail? Youd get millions!

The thought whirls around my head. Millions. She promised me Id get millions of dollars for handing in my own cousin. The same one I havent seen in so many years, but never recognised how alike he looked to Erik until his childhood pictures were revealed. This is the same boy who taught me how to ride a bicycle, even though two years younger than me, was the best athlete in the whole state. Of course, he never went to school and never got discovered for his talents. All of a sudden, I mentally promise myself to never hand him over to jail. No matter how much hes done to me and how much Ive done to him hes still family. Anybody else in the Maple residence wouldve happily handed him over for their own benefits, but Im not them. Im Peter. Just Peter. And yeah. Thats about it, she finishes awkwardly, uncrossing her legs. Can I ask you just one question? Sure. Why did you shoot him? Did you figure out his secret identity or something? I hesitate, before sighing in defeat. No. He was sitting with Courtney. I thought you and him were dating, but he was cheating on you with her. So. Yeah. Her eyes widen, but she doesnt say anything. Nothing. Urgently, I wait for her to say something to break the silence forever and rescue me from this particular moment of pure awkwardness. But nothing can save me now. Instead, a whole five minutes pass with neither of us saying anything, our faces darting towards the ground and flushing faces. Im scared of the silence, as if its about to swallow me whole. Jamie, on the other hand, doesnt seem too bothered, but her face is red enough. Finally, she says, So you care about me? My shoulders rise and fall. Its too late to deny the obvious. Guess I do, ironically enough. The tiniest of smiles form on her lips, as she leans forward and kisses me on the nose. Get some sleep. Butterflies. Thats what I see and sense as Jamie strolls out the door. So beautiful and colourful, ready to brighten anybodys day. And as she ambles out, a light feeling spreads through my insides. She just kissed my nose. That ought to mean something, right? The butterflies are now leaving me, but some find their way out of the door. Trailing behind Jamie, although she has no clue.

***

I confront my cousin a five thirty. Well, approximately, because I dont have a watch to tell the time. Deciding its best if I take the plunge right now, when Im certain hes not armed, I saunter in the room with a sharp inhale of breath.

He peers up at me, his eyes widening, but the slightest bit of weariness in his eyes as they narrow. Whatre you doing here? Go away. Arent you glad youve ruined everything? Ruin everything? Lets remind ourselves who tried to kill who here! All of a sudden, Im screaming at him. A couple of people stroll by, send me weird looks, before minding their own business. What game are you playing at, Jonathan? He shakes his head so violently, Im afraid his head would snap. I cant believe you could be so selfish. Tears are streaming out of his eyes like a fountain. This was my best chance to go to school, act like a normal kid. Everything Ive ever dreamed of. And then you turn up. He says my name as if describing a hairy rodent, rather than his own cousin. Hes spiting now. Saying that school isnt suitable for such good little student. You said that one had to prove themselves to go there. He gives a cold, bitter laugh. Ha. Well, here I am. What did you expect? Confusion fills my face, replacing the previous expression of pure anger. I never said any of these things, I say in such a suppressed whisper, its impossible to conclude Im lying. The truth can be heard from my own ears, in my own voice. Its his turn for confusion to fill his face. You didnt? B-but Father said Jonathan, we come from a family of criminals. What do you expect them to do? Tell the truth? You dont have to prove yourself for anything. A cold snort escapes from his nose. Yeah right. Its all too bad we have a deal. If I dont stop you from failing, showing everybody how bad I can be, no chance for me. Guess Ill have to be a mutant forever. Hes sitting up in his hospital bed, a bullet shot through his arm. But internally, I wince at how serious it couldve gone. Straight through his heart, and dying too quickly to make any sounds or cries for help. What had pressured me into such a deadly task? Was it the fact he was with Courtney, who was mocking me so badly? However, hes two years younger than me. What would she see in somebody two years younger than her? Of course, he couldve easily lied. Criminal families, like the Maple residence, are born to lie, thieve and slaughter. I guess Im an exception by not desiring to do any of these things. Then again, Jonathans two years younger than me. He knows wrong from right, but doesnt have as much experience as I do. This means he still has a chance. A chance to pass high-school, get a college degree and graduate. Possibilities to find the girl hes been looking for, finishing high-school together. Chances to make friends with random strangers, who, unlike the Maple residence, dont require anybody to prove anything. Looks or skills dont matter when it comes to friendship. I have an idea, I say. How bout I dont complete this task? Its not like I have money to complete it in first place, but yeah. His eyes widen. But your parents would never let you live! Theres only a month left before I turn eighteen, and can legally move to another house by myself. Not much longer, anyway. A slow smile begins to spread through his face. Abruptly, I find myself staring at a younger version on Jonathan, so little and innocent. His grey eyes full of light, and his sixteen years of age almost impossible by how young he appears.

All the wrinkles, the stress marks, have vanished into thin air. I think I can live with that, he says at last.

EPILOGUE
Two years later The water continues to effortlessly through the millions of waves, clawing at the edge of the swimming pool like a kitten attempting to escape the wet presence. However, only Ian is in there, splashing water at Jamie and I at certain times, but completely ignoring us at others. Peter! Come in the water, will you? Nah, I reply just as loudly. Jamie cant swim. Im not leaving without her. I loosely place my arm around her, but she doesnt seem to budge. Ever since subscribing to a magazine she claims everybody back I primary school was crazy about, reading is the only thing on her mind. The heart-shaped sunglasses she wears is to protect herself from the blazing sun, and even though theres water nearby, I can clearly see all the rays of sunlight reflecting like a mirror. Her curls are out loose and are a danger to nature, knee-length shorts because she believes anything shorter is simply ridiculous and a full-sleeved top because its the latest fashion. She finally places the magazine on he ground, before slurping on her lemonade. This is the life, eh, Peter? Smiling, she raises her glass. You said it, I say, clinking my glass with hers. Though, I cant believe you got the landlord to get you an apartment right next to me. Whered you find the money? Oh, Jonathan is supplying it to me. I get my own apartment, and the rest of my family get a whole house two blocks away. Her shoulders lift and drop. When he offered, I simply couldnt say no. Yeah, like you were so chivalrous in first place, I mutter under my breath, but she hears me, elbowing me in the ribs. We sit in silence for a couple of seconds, enjoying what we have left of life. Suddenly, she says, You never told me how your parents reacted, once you told them you failed. Trust me. That was an experience Id rather forget. They told me I was a failure, and a whole lot of other things, but I only remember one word applying to myself. Of course, I remember the one thing. A failure. This is what they called me, screeching religious things at midnight when I told them. Next time I fail something, I am so not telling them in the middle of the night. All our surrounding neighbours were knocking angrily on the door, demanding us to stop screaming. However, we were yelping so loudly and desperately, it was impossible to figure out what they were saying. We soon found out the next day, when they gave us a whole hours worth of complaints. My parents were politely listening to them, apologising in certain aspects of the conversation, but when our neightbours left, they were plotting how they could steal from their house or murder them all.

Good times. But theres one thing theyre wrong about; my names Peter, and Im not a failure. So far, I have my brother swimming in the pool, my cousin getting changed in the backroom, changing so he can jump in the pool, and the most beautiful girl beside me, trying to lick her elbow. If this isnt the life Ive always been wishing for, then this is nothing at all. This has to be success. Sure, maybe Jamie doesnt like me in that way. But we live next door, and it wont be too hard for her to fall in love with me. Or maybe Ill use some of Jonathans money, which hes receiving for the job hes doing, and buy myself a hypnotising ring. Then, Ill mesmerise my previous captive to fall in love with me, once and for all. If only such a thing existed, because right now, Ill have to wait for her to respond to my unrequited love. It might take a minute longer, or even a century. But Im willing to wait for her, because I know she will fall for me at one time or another. Im coming! yells the voice of Jonathan, racing to the swimming pool before jumping. Both Jamie and I had a glimpse of his body as he did so, and to our horror, he has no pants, also revealing a complete absence of underwear. Jamie blinks a couple of times, shielding her eyes to never capture the image again. At one stage, shes blinking so fast and ferociously, it seems like she has something in her eye. Which wouldnt be too far off, because the image has carved itself at the back of my eyelid also. Well. She wipes imaginary dust from her shorts. That was disturbingly original. For once I cannot pick an argument with her.