Sprite (Annabelle's Story Part One)

by Leigh Michael

  Sprite

  Annabelle’s Story Part One

  LEIGH MICHAEL

  Copyright 2012, 2013 Leigh Michael

  Cover Illustrator Copyright 2012 Carissa Katz

  Copyedit by Katharine Vail

  All people, places, and things are used fictitiously.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The deafening screams bombarded my head, flooding my thoughts.

  It was impossible to hear anything else. I pressed my fingers to my ears and still, the muffled sounds roared.

  Looking around, every single girl did the same thing. All our faces strived to be as close to the opened windows as possible. The cold wind from the night snapped against our skin, but no one seemed to care. In fact, we each sported huge smiles.

  It became a tradition of ours. Of my swim team, that is. After every W we brought home, we screamed our brains out when our bus came within a mile or two of the high school.

  It was our way to announce our return home after each and every victory. And this victory, in particular, was extra special. We were now the New Jersey High School state champions.

  Boy it felt good.

  For me, it was even more special. Not only was it my eighteenth birthday, not only did I set a personal best in the butterfly, but it was also my last swim meet before I headed off to college.

  College.

  The thought of this next chapter in my life broadened the smile on my face. I worked my butt off in high school. And it sure paid off. In just a few months, I’d be packing up to head across the country to UCLA.

  My parents, especially my mom, weren’t thrilled with the idea of me moving so far from home, but it was the best pre-med school in the country. Dr. Annabelle Walsh had a great ring to it. Plus, I’d also be supporting the Gold and Blue in the pool with a full swim scholarship.

  How could my parents give me a hard time when I’d save them some major cash on tuition?

  As I envisioned my future in California, the screams cut through my thoughts and reached an all-time high. Back in the moment, I realized we’d driven up the hill to the student parking lot. Here our family and friends waited.

  Most of my teammates could drive, but still, our friends and family were our biggest fans and raced the bus back to the school to clap as we descended the bus stairs. And knowing my dad, he would’ve made his way right to the front of the crowd.

  When the bus rolled to a stop, we all looked at each other with grins on our faces and gave a solid five more seconds of screaming, followed by three boisterous, “Woot! Woot! Woot!”

  Dad didn’t disappoint. As soon as I stepped off the bus, he was right there waiting for me. I only took two quick steps before he picked me up into a bear hug.

  “My little Bellerina, I’m so proud of you,” he gushed into my ear.

  It was a nickname based on another nickname—Belle—that had stuck with me since I was a little girl. My dad always said that as a swimmer I danced my way across the water. So graceful and fluid—just like a ballerina on stage. Hence, Bellerina.

  As a teenage girl, I really should’ve been embarrassed but for whatever reason, I loved to hear it.

  Well, as long as he didn’t say it too loud.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered.

  He lowered me back down to the ground, keeping his eyes trained on mine. “You did great today, a new PR.”

  “It felt great. That last race was tough though. I think that girl really gunned for me.”

  “She sure did, but she came nowhere close. I even saw a few scouts from UCLA check you out. Probably to keep an eye on their upcoming star swimmer.”

  I smiled back. My parents were both so supportive of me. Same with my little sister Lindsey. We were definitely a close-knit family. Sure, there were times I wanted to pull out Lindsey’s hair, but at the end of the day, my sister was my best friend.

  “Oh, look who’s here,” he said interrupting my thoughts. My dad pointed off to my right. “Blake is waiting for you by your car.”

  Just the sound of his name sent a rush of butterflies into my stomach.

  Blake had been my boyfriend for just about a year now. To say he was hot didn’t do him justice. His sun-kissed skin made me jealous of my own. And those big brown eyes with little specks of ember were hard to break my gaze from. On top of that, he had sandy blonde hair, chiseled abs, and a killer smile. He was every teenage girl’s dream.

  At times, I wondered how I caught his eye. I suppose some thought I was attractive, but Blake had me beat. I had light brown hair, bright blue eyes just like my dad, and like I said, skin that refused to tan.

  “Go on,” Dad said. “I’ll see you at home.”

  Before darting off, I gave him another quick hug, repositioned my swim bag over my shoulder, and then headed in the direction of my car.

  Along the way, a few of my teammates and their parents gave me quick shout-outs of congratulations and birthday wishes.

  Did I mention that today had been a fabulous day?

  “Hey you,” Blake said when I was just a few steps away.

  Unable to contain myself, I leapt the remainder of the way into the air. With a fluid motion, he caught me and swung me around in a full circle before he gently lowered me to my feet.

  “Did you see me kick that last girl’s ass?”

  He pinned me with his oh-so-sexy grin. “Sure did. It’s times like these that I’m proud to call you my girlfriend.”

  Then before I could respond, his mouth was on mine. It was one of those kisses that made you forget your name. I’m not talking about a make-out session in the middle of the parking lot of my high school. It was just a quick kiss. Casual—but in a good way—like he’d been destined to do so.

  It’d be an understatement to say Blake simply infatuated me. And the best part, we weren’t going to endure one of those horrible long-distance relationships after we graduated. Blake not only had dashing good looks, but also brains. In August, we’d both be starting at UCLA.

  To be honest, I don’t know if this made my parents relieved or more anxious about me leaving.

  A shiver ran up my spine. “Who’s that?”

  “Who?”

  “Behind you.”

  Before Blake could turn, the man who I caught sight of vanished. One second he was there, and the next he wasn’t.

  “Uh, he’s gone,” I responded, puzzled. “He just looked really strange, that’s all.”

  “What do you mean? Where was he?”

  I shook my head while crossing my arms from the chill in the air. “Over near the entrance of the school. He had this weird straw hat, white linen-type pants, and a bright floral shirt.”

  A protective look crossed Blake’s face, but he quickly composed himself. “Well… I think that’s our cue to get you home. There are all types of weirdos out there lurking. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, now would we?”

  There wasn’t an opportunity for a response before he continued, “I’ll see you tomorrow for your birthday celebration?”

  The tightness in my arms loosened. “Of course, the concert starts at eight and the girls want to hang out a little beforehand at like five or six. We gotta celebrate our big win from tonight too.”

  “Girls will be girls, I suppose,” he said while opening my car door.

  In response, I gave Blake one of my looks that he’d coined “the perfect eye-roll.”

  “Just text me in the morning after you talk to your friends.”

  I rolled up to my tiptoes for one last kiss. “Sounds good, goodnight babe.”

  “Night, Belles.”

  It was another nickname I’ve grown to love, but this one originated from Blake.

 
With a sigh, I tossed my bag into the car, climbed in, and looked up to give Blake a quick wave goodbye before closing the door.

  Oddly enough, he was nowhere in sight.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I made the final turn onto our long driveway, still wondering why Blake had disappeared so quickly.

  Over the short mile drive home, I managed to get myself a little worked up about it. These were the times I happily used my teenage hormones as an excuse to blow things out of proportion.

  It seemed weird though, and even careless, that Blake didn’t make sure I was safe and sound inside my locked car before he dashed off. I mean, I just finished pointing out that strange man I saw. It was beyond me why he couldn’t manage to wait a few more seconds.

  Telling myself I overacted that Blake had a good excuse for his quick departure, I rolled my shoulders, took a deep breath, and re-centered myself.

  Much better.

  Back in my “this was an amazing day” mindset, I took notice of our driveway and the surrounding property. I preferred snow, especially being that it was around the holidays, but I’d rained during our swim meet. The Christmas lights my dad hung along the driveway reflected in the puddles in a way that erased the rest of my tension.

  My mom had nagged my dad for weeks and weeks to string lights down the driveway, and it wasn’t a short one. But to make her happy, he spent all last Saturday decorating the twenty-plus trees that lined the drive. Like I said, we were a close-knit family.

  Speaking of family, it looked like everyone had beaten me home. The front lights were on, so were the living room, and also Lindsey’s bedroom.

  She wasn’t able to come to my swim meet because she had a soccer game. With a flip of the coin, Dad went with me to the championships and Mom went with Linds to her game. I know Linds felt really bad for missing it, but she was the captain of her team. Oh, and also their leading scorer. They needed her. I was excited though to plop myself down on her bed and tell my little sister all about my day.

  With that thought in mind, I parked off to the side of the house, jumped out of the car, and reached across the seat to grab my bag.

  It was dark, but the lights on the trees and from the house provided plenty of light to see. Besides, it was only a short, quick walk from my parking spot to the front door.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement. In one of the puddles, I could have sworn floral print dominated the dancing lights.

  And then…

  Darkness.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Waking up in the back of a car was the next thing I remembered. Quickly, I took in my surroundings, immediately noticing five things.

  The first: I was in a SUV type car. Second, I was lying on leather seats. Third, bright lights whizzed pass the windows. The fourth: the radio had been tuned to a country radio station. And finally, I was in a net.

  Yes, a net.

  From head to toe, a net entrapped me. The type, I suppose, a fisherman used to catch large fish. It had that coarse-type of material that caused splinters. Thankfully, I still wore my warm-ups from the swim meet, shielding the majority of my skin from the rough rope.

  This was a fleeting thought though. My mind instinctively imagined the worst.

  Was I kidnapped?

  What was going to happen to me?

  Was I going to die?

  These questions only made my heart pound even harder in my chest. I willed myself to take deep breaths. Being confined always set me on edge. I quickly tried to test the net, pushing my legs and arms outward. It wouldn’t budge.

  Realizing I was helplessly stuck, my efforts to calm myself were futile and my breaths quickened into an erratic beat. My eyes darted around the backseat trying to take in more of my surroundings. At that point, I became very aware of the driver.

  I turned my head to the left, straining to reveal his identity, and gasped. There popping up over the seat was a straw hat; the same hat the man wore at the entrance of the school.

  “What do you want from me?” I blurted out. “Please let me go!”

  No response.

  “Hello? Help me! Somebody help me!”

  Still, nothing.

  For the next few minutes, I screamed at the top of my lungs, mimicking the sounds from my bus. Sadly, my current emotions were the opposite of the ones I savored just a few, what, hours before.

  When the driver still didn’t acknowledge me, even after my tantrum, I gave my lungs a break.

  My throat now screamed at me from overuse, I had a headache between my eyes, and nausea had settled across me. My body was in survival mode. I needed to figure out what had happened and how much time had passed.

  Looking out the window, darkness still blocked much of my sight. I was pretty sure I’d gotten back to my house around seven at night. That meant at least another ten hours of darkness until the sun came up. Not very helpful and too long a period to pinpoint the exact time. All I knew was that it was after seven and before sunrise.

  Thinking back, I forced myself to remember the last moments before everything went black. I recalled a reflection in the puddle, and causing my headache to soar, I vaguely remembered a moist cloth across my nose. It had a distinctive smell I’d now never forget.

  Chloroform.

  Chloroform must’ve been used to knock me out. It was a liquid that caused a person to lose consciousness upon smelling it. I’d seen it used in movies tons of times before.

  Although now, I felt a greater deal of pity for the people that had it done to them. My head felt like elephants had stampeded it.

  Suddenly, the engine softened. I tried to push to my elbows to get a better view, but it was nearly impossible due to the net.

  With my face pressed into the ropes, I peered through the darkness to a passing street sign lit up by a street light: Pennsylvania Avenue. And then the massive entrance of the Taj Mahal casino momentarily took up the whole windowpane.

  That was when it dawned on me.

  Atlantic City.

  I was still in New Jersey. Which meant, I couldn’t have been passed out for more than—

  An aggressive turn of the wheel rocked me into the backside of the front seat. And in less than a minute, the SUV came to a stop.

  I don’t know why, but I shut my eyes as tight as they’d go.

  I just laid there in the dark with the lyrics about a fairytale day blaring out of the radio. Part of me thought if I didn’t move and didn’t make a sound, the driver would forget I was even there.

  Unfortunately, I was wrong.

  In a heartbeat, the engine died and the music abruptly ended. Without looking, I envisioned the driver quickly opening his car door and jumping out. The shuffling of his feet on the pavement lasted for only a second before the car door behind me opened, making my head that once leaned on it drop backward.

  An accent that clearly wasn’t American reached my ears. “I’m going to help you out of the car now.”

  Any normal person would scream, kick, do anything humanly possibly to get away from someone who drugged them, kidnapped them, and tied them up. But I couldn’t move. Paralysis from fear was common for me. I trained for months to overcome the sound of the gunshot at the beginning of each race. In the presence of this strange man, I was scared speechless. My body wouldn’t listen to my mind’s cues to fight back.

  “If you give me trouble, I’m going to have to drug you again,” he warned. “And I really don’t want to have to do that.”

  Finally, I found my voice, but even it sounded foreign. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I’m trying to help you.”

  This statement not only surprised me, but also sent my mind into an avalanche of questions, my horror fueling each.

  How was he helping me?

  Why was I confined in a net?

  What the hell was going on?

  Was this some sick joke?

  Or was he going to hurt me?

  How could I fight back?

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sp; Should I—

  His hands grabbed my shoulders. I was forced from the car whether I liked it or not.

  It was an awkward landing. My feet hit the ground first, my back against him, unable to fully stand due to the small size of the net.

  At not being able to see his face, I twisted in an attempt to break his grasp.

  “Please, Annabelle,” he said as he strengthened his grip. “We need to hurry.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “How do you know my name?”

  “I was sent to save you.”

  “Save me?! From who?”

  “Shh, we need to be quiet,” he whispered, beginning to half drag, half carry me towards the boardwalk. “Everything will be explained soon. We need to hurry before the Trackers realize you’re gone. They won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

  “What? What do you mean? Before who realizes I’m gone? Who wants to hurt me?”

  “We don’t have much time.”

  With that, our conversation was over and my capturer didn’t say another word. Instead, he dragged me at a quicker pace.

  It was an eerie kind of night. Cold, dark, and not a single soul in sight. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fight back. I didn’t know who this kidnapper was or who he protected me from, or even if he was protecting me.

  Against my better judgment, sheer exhaustion from the events took over and I allowed my body to go limp. I needed to conserve my energy, to plan my escape.

  I know, I know… this made little sense. My mom’s voice filled my head, “Fight back!” But, I didn’t see how it was possible. My arms and legs were trapped. I had nothing in which to hurt him. My cell phone was in my swim bag God knows where. The real kicker, no one would hear my screams.

  I felt despondent as he took me: up the ramp of the boardwalk, across the wooden planks, down to the beach on the other side. Once we reached the sand, he struggled to pull me along, his arms beginning to tremble at my weight.

  Finally, resolve kicked in and my mind raced in an attempt to piece together a way out. From my line of vision, I knew he dragged me away from the boardwalk towards the ocean. The waves of the ocean lapped up onto the shore. It was a sound I recognized from countless trips to the beach.