The Fox
by Rachel
"No! Put me down!" screamed Kate. She had been walking past Oak Street, watching her group of friends disperse, one by one, like a plate full of cookies in a room of hungry kids, every girl saying their goodbyes as they reached their home. Kate lived in one of the last houses, in a more spread-out part of the neighborhood. It was a pretty eerie day, the leaves blowing around in complete silence. She noticed a black, beat-up, old BMW with faded gray tinted windows coming around the corner, but thought nothing of it. Her neighborhood was made up of mainly older couples and families just like her own, families with kids that were off in collge and maybe one or two teens at home. The types of people seemed to always drive around in their fancy, old-people cars. It screeched to a stop directly in front of her and hauling her towards his trunk, gripping her arms tightly in his painful hold. Her usually ear-blasting scream was muffled by his putrid-smelling forearm. The man dropped her into the trunk with a loud thump, her back hitting something hard. He lifted out a small pistol, aimed it towards her nose, and whispered in a deep, raspy voice, "Be quiet and do not move." Of course Kate did exactly as she was told, as most people who had a gun pointed at them did. The man came back around the car with a roll of duct tape and some rope in tow. Kate followed his instructions, sticking out her arms and legs to be tied and letting him put the tape over her mouth and around the back of her head, feeling her hair being ripped out as he did. The trunk closed with a loud thud. The next thing she heard was the BMW screeching to a halt and what she assumed was the driver side door slamming closed, the trunk popping open, and the man lifted her out. She felt like a hooked fish, unable to move any of her limbs or stand on her own. She landed harshly on thr ground as he slammed the trunk. She still couldn't get a glimpse of his of his face, but did notice that he was approximately 5'8" and had that sams small pistol peeping out of his hoodie pocket. The man hurled Kate over his shoulder and up the stairs of an apartment complex. Inside it smelled like cigarette smoke and mildew, not the best of combinations. She heard the key turning and the door creaking open. "We're here, " she heard the man mutter, but wasn't quite sure where "here" was. The man carried her over towards the back where she was plopped onto a very uncomfortable bed. He locked the door of the disgusting, smelly room and left. She was frozen. Where was she? Was she seriously kidnapped? If only I had my cell phone, Kate thought. Itwas in her backpack which was probably lying in the grass by the sidewalk on Oak Street. She surveyed the bedroom. There was one tiny window ans a pair of what looked like, broken closet doors. The place was filthy. She needed to get out of there. Then, she thought of it. She quickly started to nibble and tear at the tape using the brackets on her braces. After a few minutes of chewing, she finally had the tape that was over her mouth ripped through. Next she started on her hands. Once they were free, she unties her feet noticing the minor rope burns already in place. She had done it. She could escape now. She figured that her only option was to climb out the window. She tip toed towards it, shaking of adrenaline and nervousness. She lifted the latch, quietly and slowly pushing up the window. Glancing outside, she saw there wasn't a fire escape, she was forced to jump. It was only one storpy up and there was a dumpster with an old beaten-up mattress on top. Jump. That is exactly what she did. Once she got home, her parents called the police and told them everything. After a long trial and tons of scary hearings in front of a looming judge. It turns out the kidnapper, Tim Klien, had kidnapped and killed three other girls Kate's age. He was sentenced to life in prison and died of a heart attack on the third day. What he deserves, huh.
What was your inspiration for this piece?
When I saw the 4th picture, I liked it the best and I thought it would be easy for me to write about.
What authors inspire you in your writing?
I really like Sarah Dessen and she sort of inspires me.
What was the last book you read.
I read Unwind by Neal Shusterman. It was one of the best books I have ever read.
If you were writing a book about your life, what would the title be?
I would title it, "The Inside Joke."
Obviously, you are an excellent writer. What other hobbies do you have?
I play soccer and am on the swim team.
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