Thursday, September 2, 2010


I'm babysitting seven kids right now. That's too much for one person, no matter what the Duggars say.

I'm in need for some inspiration.

The continued to drag her on to a small, badly lit room off the corridor. The room was hot, almost steamy. It smelled of sweat and blood. Her nose wrinkled at the rankness.

"You will sit there," one of them said.

"Will I?" she said, hoping to ruffle and distract them a bit.

"Yes," said another coolly, "you will."

She looked at him evenly, long enough that he began to furrow his brow in confusion. He blinked and broke eye contact.

"Sit," he said.

Because this wasn't the hill she wanted to die on, she sat. Chains wrapped themselves around her wrists.

She looked up, her face openly mocking. "Really guys? You expect me to go somewhere?"

"Proper measures of security must be taken," one of them said, as unemotionally as ever. "Now, to business. We have intelligence that you are harboring a known criminal."

"You'd think, by the looks of you, that you had no intelligence at all."

That didn't phase them.

"Yes or no, young lady."

"How about....maybe?"


"I mean, I might be...."

"Are you or are you aware of the location of this young man?" They held up an image of his face, a mug shot. It didn't do him justice, she thought.

"I don't know his location right now, no." Not his exact one anyways. He was somewhere in her apartment complex.

"Have you been in contact with him?"

The room felt like it was getting hotter. "Can we turn on the air-conditioning, guys?"

"There is none, young lady. Answer the question."

"Look, stop calling me 'young lady.' " she said with a sudden bit of rash emotion. Where had that come from? "I'm just a girl. Just a girl, okay?"

She couldn't see straight.

"Young lady, are you okay?" But he was squinting too.

The room was fading to black.


She was gone.

*                 *                  *

In a faint moment of consciousness, she heard his voice.

"Thanks for protecting me," he said softly. She heard that grateful smile in his voice.

She was faintly aware of the men scattered, passed out on the floor.

She smiled back at him.

The last thing she felt was his lips brush hers.

Just a little thought I had today when I entered a really heated room. It may or may not be connected to some other stories I've written.


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