Chapter 1
The kidnapping
The first thing I heard was my door open. I looked at the door, a pair of eyes were waiting there. I tried to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth. I was paralyzed in fear. I tried to scramble out of bed, but all I did was struggle. They came inside and closed the door. The last thing I knew, the person was right in front of me.
I felt tired, I could only see black, and every once in a while, brown. I smelt gas, I heard cars, and police sirens. I tried to get up, but my hands were tied together.
With effort, I got the thing off my head, it was a sack. I looked up. I was in the front passenger seat of a Ferari, in saggy red clothes. “Where am I?” I asked I don’t know who. I don’t remember having this type of car. I looked up at the driver and gasped. It was the man who came into my room last night. He had greasy black scrambled hair, and an expressionless face. He was wearing all black. I looked around, hoping it was a dream. We were swerving past other cars, and cops were chasing us. We kept going, refusing to be pulled over. We hit a car, and I fell off the seat. The cops were surrounding the car.
Chapter 2
Sticky situations
The driver swore repeatedly, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. My head was sore from the bump, and my nose was bleeding. I decided to just wait, and let fate decide what happened next.
The driver was looking through a bag on his lap, he was hiding under the door, a horrified look on his face. He pulled a pistol from the bag, and the police were coming to the door, but they were all locked.
I heard glass break, and the driver pointed his gun, from the doors, to me.
I tried to hide under the seat, but he just said “Don’t move, or I shoot.”
“Put the gun down! Now!” said a voice behind me, just as more glass broke. We were surrounded by police, most holding tasers, but some were holding actual guns, and not just pistols.
The driver started to quiver and his head turned red. There was a gun behind his head.
He holstered his gun, and swapped cars with the police, and his drove away.
Chapter 3
New beginnings
The cops were searching the car. It seemed like forever for them to find me. When they saw me, battered and all, I tried to make a smile, but the pain was too much. The cop grabbed his walkie-talkie and told the others. “Get up.” He said. “Who are you, and why are you here?”
“I was taken away from my parents. I woke up last night, and he was there.” I said nervously, I didn’t want him to think I was doing something bad. “Where do you live?” He asked. “Greenwich street, and-” He stopped me mid sentence “Greenwich? There’s no Greenwich here, we’re in Hoboken, New Jersey.”
I was worried out of my mind. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do. “We’ll take you to a foster home, then you’ll be able to calm down, and maybe even get a new family.”
I wanted to argue, but it was a police officer, so I thought not to.
I got into their car and we drove away.
When we finally got to our destination, I got out of the car, a sign read “Jone’s house for fosters and orphans!” I hesitated, “I just want to go home.” I said, I just wanted to go anywhere, but there. I eventually started walking towards the house, it felt like I was walking in the air as if gravity wasn’t holding me back. The officers pulled me along by the shoulders. I squeezed my eyes shut as they knocked on the door. The door opened. “Hello.” Said a nice voice. I opened my eyes slowly, there was a woman with dark curly hair, a blue dress and makeup covering her face. “I’m am missis Jones. What’s your name?” she asked me. “…Jeffery, er, Jeff for short, oh and my last name is Smith, Jeffery Smith.” I said nervously. It may have been a bad first impression, but I just didn’t want to be there. “Okay then Jeffery, let’s go have a look around.” She said, putting on a smile.
The house was a mansion! it had upstairs and downstairs, tower and basement. Ten bathrooms, five bedrooms, (four bunk beds were placed hastily in each one.) On the top floor, and on the first. After the tour ended. I was brought into my room, which had three children, each about 7-10. I was 12. “Everyone, this is Jeffery, or Jeff. Jeffery, this is John, this is Jim, and this is Kenith. I hope you all get along. And I hope you get adopted soon, this place is getting crowded.” She added, turning her back on the room.
Chapter 4
Dreams come true
We did not get along, at all. Jim, the youngest always grabbed onto me and tried to pull me onto a bed. When I pulled back, Kenith, who was ten, tackled me, and to finish it off, John the middle child, jumped onto my neck and twisted my head around until I made a noise. Usually it was a loud ouch or a groan, which sometimes attracted mrs Jones, but by the time she got up to my room, they were off of me and had me gagged, so she thought I was sleeping. We would be fed inside our own room, so I could hardly eat anything because they kept taking it, and they always kept me awake by partying at 12:00. I was starting to think that I would go insane if I was there another day.
One day, when I felt on the verge of sanity, Jones came into our room, “We have an adopter.” she said proudly, and sure enough, there were two people trying to pick a favorite. Their faces seemed very familiar. “Where do you live?” I asked, stepping forward. “None of your buisness boy!” Said a strangely harsh familiar voice. “Wait, are you?” Sure enough, it was the Sherl family. “Are you Jeffery Tiff?” Asked the father of the family “Smith” I corrected. “Close enough! Anyway, why are you here? with these, filthy little-” “Excuse me!” Yelled Mrs Jones. “Do you know them?” She gave me an impenetrable face. “Y-yes I do, they’re my neighbors.” “Well then take him home! Shoo! Shoo!” She yelled. “Fine!” He barked back, obviously holding back some seriously worse things. The trip back home was long and silent.
When we finally got home, we went in separate ways. “Wait! Jeff! Your parents aren’t there!, they’re out looking for you! lemme call ‘em. You could stay ‘ear for awhile, You know, while you wait an’ stuff.”
Chapter 5
Reunited
The next day, my parents got home, and I ran out to greet them. I was overfilled with joy and happiness. Then, my parents gave me a lecture of what to do if that ever happened again, and what our address is, and the final one, about school. These happened every day. I was starting to miss the foster home.