Kidnapped

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It all started on a dark, gloomy day with the ferocious winds howling and trees swaying from left to right.

You would might think that my parents would keep me at home where it’s safe and sound, but it’s obviously a NO. They planned to keep me at my GRANDMA’S HOUSE! JUST SO THAT THEY COULD WATCH THE ICE-SKATING FINALE!

“Dad, Mom please understand the fact that I don’t want to go to grandma’s place, I HATE IT!” I yelped.

“HONEY, you can’t say that!” Mom responds again as she applies her lipstick for the HUNDRED-TRILLIONTH TIME!

“C’mon mom, you know it’s true!”

“It is kind of true…” Dad mumbles and smirks

“HAROLD!” she shrieks.

 “Why don’t I want to go to my grandma’s house?”  “It’s simple,” I replied, “SHE ABSULOTELY WEIRD, she smells like old cabbage and she’s a total lunatic!”

 My grandma is your typical textbook granny. She wears baggy nightwear, fluffy bunny slippers, goggle eyeglasses, has yarn balls sticking out of her pockets.

“Here we are!” Mom says with delight

“Yeah kiddo, time to go” Dad chimes in.

No matter how much, I shriek, squeal or yelp, I was still yanked off the car and plonked on to the muddy doorstep. Mom and Dad on the other hand, sprinted away as if they were running a marathon just to avoid talking with grandma cause we all know where that’ll end up.

The second I rang the rusty doorbell, she opened with shock and bellowed “Oh, my sweetie pie, my little cupcake, how are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine Grandma…” I sighed.

“Oh, come in my little cutie cake!”

I was yanked yet again inside of my grandma’s tiny, little cottage.

Perhaps, all of you must be thinking ‘With a grandma this sweet, just imagine the gifts she will give you,’ or maybe ‘The house will be so tidy with a caring granny like her’, but no, that is not the case. Her house is a complete mess. It’s so cluttered that I can’t tell if it’s a house or a garbage can!

I slipped in through the door and wriggled my way through the stench garden. If you’re wondering what the ‘stench garden’ is, it’s my grandma’s living room! The couches smell extremely horibble! Each of them have an excruciating odour and rubbish pilling on top of them day after day. It smells so bad that I even named the couches.

The first couch was named after the tall mountain, Mt. Kilimanjaro so I named it Mt. smelly-manjaro because it was the tallest of all the couches. Moving on to the second, this was named after the  the Yanacocha gold mine because it piled up and buried most of the trash which made it technically a mine. Last but not least, the third couch was named after the enormous Great Wall China because it had trash piling from the doorstep.

The day was getting darker and boring! I had nothing much to do, and the only thing I could do was listen to beat of the pounding rain outside. Grandma fell asleep for a long time (obviously), and I was feeling drowsy and sluggish myself when suddenly a idea popped right in my clueless brain, ‘I should SNEAK OUT!

I need a plan, I thought to myself. “I will have to go through the back so grandma can’t hear me.” I entered the backyard of the house where majority of the junk is. I crept secretively passing an entire junkyard (which took an eternity to get out of). All was going just as planned until… I forgot the fact that the backyard gate was locked! Now what was I supposed to do? The only way to get out of this situation was to climb over the gate. Did I mention the fact that I am NOT an athlete.

As I wondered to myself, I found a ladder from the junk pile and climbed over!

I finally made my way to the main street, but as I was strolling through the streets I saw this dark and creepy alley with no one in sight. Since spooky is my middle name I wondered into the alley, but suddenly this peculiar black jeep parked right behind me. I was curious to know who’d it belonged to, I tried not to make a single sound as I reached the strange jeep, but life had other plans for me. Out of the blue two strange men dragged me to the jeep unconscious.

A few moments later I woke up, tied to a chair, all alone by myself, my heartbeat pounding against my chest.

I thought I was delirious, but I wasn’t. There was truly no one to save me this time.

By UYUHANSI SNEHA FERNANDO