Freewrite 09/27/08

Ransom

How much is your daughter worth? Your child. Your flesh and blood. He holds the knife to her creamy white throat and wonders. Is $5million to much to ask?

"Your daddy will pay for you, little girl. Or else." He sneers. His curling lip sends shivers up her spine. Her hands bound with the same silver duct tape that covers her mouth. She has never felt fear like this before. Her heart pounds as she remembers the coffee shop. He seemed like a regular guy when she met him last week. Just another student avoiding the dorms. How could she have known his intentions. His psychotic cruelty. His eyes, dark and dangerous, stared down at her as he paced the dark basement, taking another swig of his beer.

"Daddy's little rich girl", he said mocking her, wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty hand. "Poor little girl who's never had to work a day in her life. How much will your CEO daddy pay to keep you safe? To get you back?"
His voice fell to a rough whisper, "Enough. Had better be enough, or you'll make up the difference." His eyes went hazy as he stared over her head.

She saw him getting lost in his thoughts again. Maybe I can use that to my advantage, she wondered. Focus, Sheila, Focus. How do I get out of here?

Sheila looked around the dim basement again. Her eyes fell on the two small ground level windows. The latches didn't seem to be locked and she knew she was small enough to fit through. Maybe she could distract him long enough to pull her hands free and make a break for it. She could already feel the tape loosening as she wiggled her hands more and more. He had to leave sometime right? And he definitely had to fall asleep. Or pass out is more like it. He had been downing beers since he walked down the stairs and that seemed like hours ago. Just pacing and drinking, it couldn't last forever. She had to try.

CLICK!

What was that?!