• I stayed and watched Connor, James, and James's girlfriend in the boat. I caught Connor looking longingly over at me whenever James and his girlfriend flirted. Everytime I saw them flirting, I would die a little bit inside (well more than I already was). I wished that were me and Connor. But we would never get that oppertunity. I thought back to my kidnapper and a huge wave of hate swallowed me up. I hated him. He took everything I loved away and he took me away from everybody I loved. It wasn't fair. I wonder what he's doing now....
    * * *
    I stood in front of the one-level house, recognizing the rectangular window in the room I was kept captive in. Here was his house. And I was here to make sure he would pay for what he did to me. I walked through the door and into his front foyer where he had probably dragged me through when he abducted me. I looked around at the boring white walls with just a gold framed mirror that had several large cracks in it. 21 years of bad luck from those cracks, I thought to myself. The hall was empty and so was the rest of the house so I walked around, hoping he was here so I could scare him. I walked into what I think is a family room. White, boring, with a boring TV and a boring couch with boring curtains framing boring windows (ok maybe I'm going too far with the boring thing but if you ever saw this house you would know!). The room was empty and I walked into a plain kitchen with a wooden table and a few rickety chairs. The refrigerator hummed and a bird chirped from the windowsill. I moved on down another boring hallway (sorry I'll stop with all the boring comments) and into a plain bedroom where every piece of furniture was white- even the TV sitting on top of the white chest of drawers. He was sitting on top of the bed, watching the TV, seeming to have no guilt about the 13-year-old girl he had killed. I started to walk over to the bed when he leaped off the bed and ran out of the house. As the door shut I heard him yell "My next victim awaits!" I looked over to the TV to see what had put him in this state. When I saw, if I had blood it would be frozen and my heart would be beating if I had one. The news station was on and a boy was talking about me. A 13-year-old boy. A 13-year-old boy who had loved me. A 13-year-old boy who's name was Connor.