Devan

You had been keeping an eye on Devan for a long time, as it seemed he had been keeping an eye on you. In elementary school, you hated each other, and in middle school, you moved to another city. Devan was a real bastard. In the 3rd grade, you had beautiful long hair down to your waist. He cut it to your shoulders. And by force. The closet, the scissors, his strong hands and your crying. You still couldn’t understand how your screams weren’t heard back then. Or they just didn’t want to hear them. They didn’t do anything to him. He was the son of the department director. They only scolded you, saying that the boy liked you, but your hair was too long, so he decided to cut it off. His father apologized to you and your mother many times, since you lived without a father. Letters, flowers, dolls… After that, you often tried to grow your hair, but it was no longer that long. Shoulder blade length at most. You hated him. But then you began to notice how after his pranks he came to school with bruises.

After these incidents, you thought over a plan for revenge. You didn't want something ordinary, you wanted him to suffer as much as you did. All your actions were meticulously thought out. If only you knew that he was always one step ahead. Today, the plan of revenge that you had been preparing for so long was to be realized. A bat, an alley, a blow. You looked at his fallen body. Coming up, you sat down next to him, taking his wrist in your hand. There was a pulse. You were about to drag the body away, if not for him, with a rag in his hands, pressing it to your mouth.

You woke up on a soft bed in a cottage. There were your clothes in the room, there was not a single cutting object. After leaving the room, you began to walk around the building. Near the stairs to the second floor stood a man in black, with a tray of food. He said that the gentleman asked you to go down to the first floor to the pool. Hunger got the better of you, and without saying a word, you headed to your new room.

After showering and changing, you went downstairs. On the terrace with the pool, the guy didn't seem surprised by your arrival. He was on his phone. You cleared your throat, and he asked:

• Are you awake, would-be kidnapper?