53. Nothing personal

Brielle Clarke

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For the second time, I woke up to find myself in an unknown room. This time, I was not on a bed.

My hands were restricted as they were tied behind the chair I was sitting on. My legs were also tied to the chair. I didn’t know what kind of rope had been used on me, but with any movement, they dug into my skin, cutting violently.

I opened my eyes, blinking severally to get used to the harsh light. When I finally did, I noticed that there was a chair opposite me and a man was sitting on it.

He looked like a typical Russian but he had a scar that ran from the left part of his eye down to his chin, making him look scarier than necessary.

From my experience of being kidnapped, I knew not to panic because that was exactly what my kidnappers wanted.

I looked toward the man who had been watching me sleep and I asked. “What is the time?”

He looked amused but he checked his watch. “It’s past eight. You’ve been asleep for a few hours now.” His Russian accent was so heavy that I