“So, are you gonna tell me or what?”
“Tell you what?”
“Um,you could start with your name.”
“Anthony Gonsalvez”
I cry out in indignation. What is wrong with this guy? Wait, he is a kidnapper. I should be asking what is not wrong with him.
“Why did you kidnap me? Clearly money is not what you want.”
“You can say that, but I don’t think you would like hearing what I actually want as much as I’d love to tell you.”
“Just say it”, I shout exasperated.
“It” He smirks again.
I stare at him my jaw dropping open repeatedly. He walks out of the room and closes the door behind. Finally I notice my surroundings; I am tied to the bed with fur handcuffs. This feels like being stuck in a horror movie sans an evil spirit with a mutated face brandishing a knife behind me. At least I got out of watching Ranbir Kapoor’s stupid movie ‘Mockstar’, my best friend just loves him and drags me to every first day first show of his movies. I hate him so freaking much and right now being tied to a bed is so much better than being forced to see that stupid actor dressed in rags.
I scream my ears off, “Help me! I have been kidnapped by a pervert.”
Suddenly the door opens; he stands there enraged with a cricket magazine in his hand. I shut up immediately, did I mention I absolutely detest cricket. This hatred results in nightmares where my brother asks me to play cricket with him and stuff. Though usually I wake up screaming when he comes towards me with the bat in his hand, surprisingly this time I didn’t scream. There is something about this weird kidnapper dude that makes me feel safe.
My inner musings are interrupted by him grunting out, “It is no use, just shut up and sleep. The room is sound proof.”
Stupid, hot, rich, pervert kidnappers.
