Chapter One                                                               Feel the WIND!
            “Mom?” 
            I looked up, supremely bored, from my math homework.  In my case, math homework is possibly the worst nightmare on earth.  It must’ve been the spawn of Satan himself.  But I mean, seriously.  It’s all wacko with the confusing weird stuff—especially when you’re in the sixth grade.  Fifth?  Easy as pie (, uh…not really…but I can live with it.) Sixth? Ouch.  “Mom, I’m almost done with my math homework.  Just three problems left.  Can I please, please, please go outside and play with Sarah and Angelina now?”  I clasped my hands together and gave Mom, who wasn’t even looking my way, my big-puppy-eyes look.  “They’ve been waiting for almost half an hour at Sarah’s house now.” 
            My mom gave me a fleeting glance from her spot on the couch in the living room.  A long, papery receipt trailed off her lap and onto the carpet.  Her pen was poised, hovering, over a paper.  Her attention was mostly on the news, I figured, and let me tell you, with that annoying TV broadcast news dude with that monotone voice talking about the most boring stuff in life, it didn’t exactly help me get my homework finished any faster.  “You know the rule, sweetheart.  Finish first, and then you can go and play.”  She brushed a wisp of coppery hair out of her brilliant green eyes, and her eyes returned to the TV, where the boring guy was saying something about earmuffs and how they resembled being deaf.  I tried to not heave a sigh.  News was for old people.  Couldn’t she just pay attention to me for one moment?
            While Mom got distracted by the news dude again, I got up and walked past the kitchen table to Mom’s desk, where a messy sheaf of papers and books lay.  I peered at the top of one of them.  Oh, jeez, was that paper called The History of Witches?  What kind of job was that?  I ignored the weird title and instead gingerly picked up the framed photo perched at the very top of the stack.  It was my favorite picture in the whole house—a color picture of my mom, my dad, and me as a baby, standing on the shore of the Georgia coastline. 
            I sat back down at the kitchen table and decided I couldn’t help it.  I heaved that sigh for all I was worth, and ended up feeling dizzy from lack of air because of it.  I tucked a few unruly strands of my chestnut-brown bob behind my ear, and twirled my pencil irritably and studied the problem.  X+3 ½ =24.  Solve for X. 
            6.86, I thought, still not sure if my calculations were at all correct.  But I scribbled it down as an estimate anyway.  It seemed okay as an answer.  I mean, it was freaking homework.  It didn’t matter if I got it wrong. 
            Okay, I get the point.  You want an explanation of what the heck is going on.  My name is Samantha Heard.  My friends all call me Sam.  And at the moment, I was struggling with the DREADED MATH.  (That’s so dramatic, right?)  I’m in the sixth grade at Crews Middle School, though I’m almost done with my first year, and I have to say that middle school really is a big change from elementary.  I mean, a gazillion teachers you see every single day, lugging those annoying heavy book bags around, the whole Connections concept.  And the middle school teachers are pretty tough…when you’re me.  And I’m talking WAY mean here.  And I thought my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Herring, was mean.  Just goes to show we’re not little kids anymore, I guess. 
            But, of course, my friends got the nice teachers, unlike me.  I have rotten luck all the time.
            So, what else to explain?  Oh.  Mom. 
            Mom is a good parent, I guess, and she manages to put up with me all the time, which can be a hard thing to do sometimes.  Plus she’s busy.  She leaves a 6:00 in the morning and comes back a little after noon has passed, almost just in time for her to fix herself a snack and wait for me to come home.  At least that’s what she tells me. 
            Normally, kids can go visit their parents at work, but that’s not the case with Mom.  She never allows me to go with her.  She tells me she’s a mechanical engineer, and kids shouldn’t be wandering among all the delicate instruments over there.  I personally agree, because I’m such a klutz. 
            Dad is another story. 
            He’s tall, handsome, with the dark chestnut hair I inherited trimmed close to his head and intent brown eyes.  He’s pretty outgoing.  I think.  And he likes the beach.  Maybe. 
            Dad and Mom were probably the best parents ever.  Her name was Amantha, his name was Samuel, they put them together and got Samantha.  Which is my name. 
            Dad died.  I didn’t know him. 
            So, anyway, life is great and all that, even though Dad isn’t around.  Instead, I try and salvage memories.  I pester Mom with questions and drive her nuts.  I save pictures.  And I have to say, it serves me well. 
            And there you have it.  My life in a nutshell. 
            Come to think about it, my life is pretty good.  I mean, America’s more or less well off, and the best thing is that we have breaks in school.  Gee, we actually have at least one break for every season—those weird teacher/student days off in fall, winter break, summer vacation, and spring break.  I love spring break.  I mean, the days are getting really warm, flowers are blooming left and right, all the bees and birds are singing songs, and we have a whole week to just chill and have fun.  And it’s all the better when spring break is actually here…and it is!  Right now, I’m ‘enjoying’ my pre-first day of spring break by completing homework that we need finished by the end of the week, and it’s taken forever.  It’s about late afternoon.  But who cares?   Once I’m done, I can do whatever I want whenever I want.  It makes me feel like a freaking princess…not that I’d ever want to be a princess, ugh…
            Sorry, getting off track.  I’m just not used to writing books (because, well, I’m more of the athletic kick-butt running type.) Anyway, after I’d gotten home from school today, I’d been hoping that I could play with my best friends, Sarah and Angelina, but—
            Oh, right.  About them. 
            Angelina, well, let’s just say she blows my mind.  She’s like, a child prodigy, except for the fact that child prodigies normally don’t have her sense of humor.  She can do ANYTHING.  Er, just about, anyway.  She’s also a bit on the shy side, but if you get to know her, she’s fairly outgoing (not to mention WEIRD).  And she’ll space out easily.  I guess it’s just a brilliant genius mind at work.  Maybe she gets her smarts from being Asian. 
            As for Sarah, I love her, too.  She’s Indian, but she doesn’t have the accent (which sometimes disappoints me), and she is like, at one with music.  She hardly talks about anything else.  In fact, she always carries around her book bag because it has her flute in it.  Her music is super-beautiful, and she can make any short tune into a totally improvised composition in seconds.  I’m not sure how she does it, but at any rate, I love her skill.  The one thing I can never get her to do is sing, just because I’m sure it’ll sound good but she’s too embarrassed.  Ha, ha.
            I’m always jealous of my friends’ talents, even though I’m glad they’re so good at what they do.  Just about the only things I can do are sports.  Soccer, kickball, racing, even football—you name it, I’m your girl.  But still, what good does that do me, unless it’s Field Day? 
            All right.  Enough about my dreams of being smart or musically talented.  That’s just other stuff.  I need to be tough and stop moping like a depressed and heartbroken kid, right?  Man up, Sam! 
            SOOOOOO, as I was saying, I’d been hoping to play with Angelina and Sarah, but as if she wanted to ruin my plans, my math teacher, Mrs. Newson, gave us loads of homework instead.  Math homework.  The perfect afternoon ruiner.  UGH! 
            You know, teachers can seriously get on my nerves sometimes. 
            I scratched my head, gritted my teeth, and looked down at the last problem.  Just one more question…The only thing was, that stupid news guy was talking about something else now, and it caught my attention.  I looked up from the math work text and watched over Mom’s shoulder, prepared to look like I was working if she turned around.  
            “And now, a special report on something that everyone has been puzzled about.  A young girl of eleven, believed to be a juvenile delinquent, has been on the run, striking fear into the heart of America.”  The screen showed a grainy shot of a blurry girl’s figure racing across a Tennessee field.  “Wherever this girl goes, mysterious things happen.  People are acting different.  One woman reported, ‘After my husband encountered the strange girl while he was exiting work, he was never the same.  He seemed slow.  Sluggish.  And not like himself.  I’m so worried!’” 
            Strange girls affecting people…that was weird.  I scrunched up my brow and thought about it.  That was the sort of stuff you hear in science fiction stories. 
            “And finally today, the Healthy Living report,” the guy continued.  The picture of the girl was replaced by the man’s face again.  “Research shows that it might be pollen making your allergies act up…or your fruit salad.  Fruits imported from Asia…” 
            I stopped listening and shook my head.  Sam, the faster you get done with this, the more time you have to play, I scolded myself.  I looked down at the problem on the page. 
            If Candace has a cube that has a length of 5 cm, a height of 2 cm, and a width of 3 cm, then what is the volume of Candace’s cube? 
            Writing down 30 a little hurriedly, I flipped back to page one and snapped the math work text shut, tossed it onto my book bag on the floor, and pushed my chair back to stand up, eyeing my mom a tad warily.  “Mom, I’m done, so I’m going outside, okay?” 
            Mom turned to see me, and gave me a ‘whatever’ look.  She smiled.  “Okay, sweetie.  Have fun at Sarah’s house.” 
            Yes!  I mentally congratulated myself on completing homework and jumped up from the wooden chair, running for the door to slip on my sneakers.  It had taken an hour to finish the stupid math, but finally, FINALLY, I could go! 
            I called Sarah’s number on my cell phone as I quickly laced up my shoes.  The phone, pressed between my shoulder and ear, hummed for a moment, and hummed some more, and hummed some more. And then, “Hello?” 
            “Hi, Sarah,” I said hastily.  “It’s me, Sam.  Sorry I’m running late—Mrs. Newson’s homework—but I’m coming over right now.  I’ll probably get to your house in five minutes.  You know how fast I run.” 
            “It’s okay,” Sarah’s voice said.  In the background, I heard a loud clunk and an exclamation, and wondered what exactly was going on.  “We’re bored of playing chess because Angelina keeps winning—big surprise.  So why don’t we meet at Five Forks Trickum Park instead of coming to my house?  You know, take a little walk, play a short game of basketball, that stuff you like.” 
            I finished tying my shoes.  “That’s sounds awesome, Sarah,” I said cheerfully.  “See you then!” 
            “Yeah.”  The line went dead, emitting a low mmmmmmmmmm sound before I shut the phone off and slipped it back into my pocket.  I stood up, dusted off my jeans, and ran out the door, sprinting easily down the sidewalk.  I blew out a deep breath, enjoying the cool air.  I’m a fast runner, and when I say that, I mean I’m a really fast runner.  I beat everyone in the mile race last year.  The fastest guy’s time was 7:10.  My time was 5:42. 
            The watery-looking sun, a super-bright crimson-gold sphere, peeked occasionally through the tall, bushy green treetops.  Faint beams of mellow yellow and orange early evening light streaked the purples of the high sunset sky, making it seem like everything was darker than before—the houses and trees silhouetted black against the fluffy peach clouds.  Down on the ground, the dark gray asphalt blurred under my feet as I flew past houses and springy, lush Bermuda grass.  All was right with the world, and I was glad for it. 
            The park was eight blocks from my house, and I reached the wrought black iron gates in minutes.  In case you didn’t know, eight blocks is REALLY long, but I am practically superhumanly fast.  Take that, suckers!  I picked out Angelina and Sarah, sitting on a bench in plain view, swinging their legs and eating Saltine crackers.  They seemed to be studying a thin book of sorts, Sarah’s brow furrowed, Angelina staring in concentration.  As I watched, Sarah tossed a piece of cracker over her shoulder at a lonely-looking robin sitting sadly on the cobblestones.  The bird’s tail perked up and it eagerly gobbled up its treat. 
            I waved at them, but they didn’t see me, too engrossed in the book.  “Gosh,” I grumbled, pushing the creaky gate open and slipping inside.  Raising my voice so they could hear, I yelled, “Sarah!  Angie!” 
            They both looked up and spotted me right away.  I waved again, and slowed to a trot as I approached their bench. 
            “Hi!” chirped Angelina.  Her silky shoulder-length black hair whispered over her shoulders as she shifted to make room for me, a book of complicated-looking math puzzles open on her lap.  I checked the cover.  7th Grade Foundations of Algebra Infinite.  So that was what they’d been looking at.  “It took you longer than I expected to finish Mrs. Newson’s homework.”  Her clear brown eyes got a mischievous sparkle in them, and she gave me an apologetic grin when she realized she was probably making me mad. 
            “Okay, yeah, but I’m not a genius like you,” I countered, my face heating.  “Like, say, you?  Can we run around or something?  I’m hyped up and so ready for action.” 
            Sarah offered me a Saltine cracker, which I munched, before stuffing the rest of the pack in her green hoodie pocket.  Her fingers drummed across the open space of the bench and picked up her flute, pressing its silver keys absently.  She rearranged her headband so her dark hair wouldn’t get in her face, and she stood up next to me.  “You did run all the way here, Sam.  I would say your legs are just fine,” she reminded me. 
            “How did you know I ran here?” I demanded.  “You stalker!” 
            “Am not!” 
            “Are too!” 
            Angelina cleared her throat.  “She knows you ran here just because your cheeks are flushed and red, your normally neat hair is windblown, and your voice is off by almost exactly seven degrees, which most likely means—”
            “ANYWAY,” interrupted Sarah, while I laughed under my breath.  “Your call, Sam.” 
            “Cool.”  I grinned.  Me, in charge?  Not something that happened every day, but still high up on my AWESOME list.  “Let’s play in the big field.  We can do something active.  Tag. Races.  That sort of thing.  It’s going to be fun!” 
            We quickly packed up, sticking most of our belongings in Sarah’s book bag (like Angelina’s puzzle book, Sarah’s flute, the Saltine crackers…actually, that’s all we brought).  Within minutes, we were dashing out into the park for the field. 
            I almost cried with joy, feeling the fierce wind tear through my hair, seeming to propel me straight across the fresh green grass.  Running was my domain.  I was free in it, able to do what I wished. 
            There was nothing like it. 
            The sounds of my friends died away, and all I could see was me.  I was an outside wild girl now, flying almost, my feet hardly touching the ground. 
            I reached the field way before Sarah and Angelina.  Trees dotted the enormous grassy field.  The breeze whistled, making the tall grasses swish like they were doing the wave.  Part of me wondered if they actually doing the wave, like at a microscopic concert in the dirt.  Possibly, but not likely.  Stopping short, I took a deep, relaxing breath and smiled contentedly.  I knew what I wanted to do.  I had already known, at the moment I had gotten here. 
            Hide-and-seek tag.  Perfect.



​
Chapter Two                                                               Businessmen Have a Picnic
            “5…4…3…2…1…ready or not, here I come!” I shouted gleefully, springing away from the rough oak tree.  So far, we’d already played seventeen games of hide-and-seek tag, but it was still exciting as ever.  Nobody had caught me so far, but I’d gotten so bored of winning, I had requested to be ‘it’.  Angelina had informed me I had a 2% chance of getting tagged.  How interesting.  
            As usual, there was no one in sight, so I checked some of our favorite hiding places while I skipped around, feeling carefree, tinted with a hungry desire to find my friends as soon as possible.  A particularly large rock pile nearby caught my eye, so I quietly made my way toward it and peeked behind it.  None of my friends were there, but it was still a very nicely formed natural arch, with a wide, dome-shaped niche big enough to hold about four people.           
            I stood up, looking around.  It was rather late already, and I only saw a few people at the moment; a man in a crisp suit, talking on his slim phone; a pretty, slender lady with curls of black hair having a serious discussion with her teenage blonde son as they strolled absently about; a woman on a jog, her blonde ponytail flapping from its spot in the hole of her Yankees baseball cap.  No Sarah.  No Angelina.  Oh well.  I didn’t expect them to be there.  I turned away to check in other places. 
            A row of untrimmed bushes at the far edge of the field looked tightly knitted together enough that someone could hide behind them.  I loped over, taking my time.  No need to rush and alert anybody nearby that I was in the vicinity. 
            As it turned out, no one was behind the bushes.  Hmm, maybe they weren’t hiding on my level.  Maybe they were slightly higher up, like in a tree.  Or maybe they were making a run for it to a safer place.  I had no idea.             
             I had to say, my friends were hiding exceptionally well this time.  I hadn’t expected it to be easy or anything, seeing as I was playing it with devious Sarah and prodigy Angelina, but I seriously had no idea where they were.  Setting off through the tall grass to check the low-hanging branches of the nearby trees, I walked along, still enjoying the cool, fresh air out here despite my frustration of not being able to find them two clever girls.  Hmph. 
            “Where are you?” I breathed in a singsong voice, pushing aside bushes and underbrush to see if any of them were crouched beneath under the cover of the leafy growth.  I kind of felt like an American Indian, hunting stealthily across the plains and through the wilderness for prey.  I don’t know if you’ve ever felt that way before, but it made me so elated that I grinned.  It made me feel…powerful. 
            I stuck my hands in my pockets, feeling the sleek side of my cell phone, and walked over to a honeysuckle bush I had spotted on my way around.  You weren’t supposed to pick the flowers, but surely just one wouldn’t hurt.  Yeah, I know. Sam the rule-breaker.  Tucking some of my loose brown hair back behind my ear where it belonged, I leaned closer and inhaled deeply, sighing in contentment as the soft scent of the honeysuckles drifted over me.  I plucked one of the yellow-white flowers off and pulled out the stamen, letting the drop of honey touch my tongue.  The faint taste enveloped me in sweetness, and I tossed the flower back into the bushes, reveling in satisfaction of the syrupy honey. 
            A slight rustle in the bushes, several yards away, betrayed a possible presence, and my senses sharpened and went on alert.  My heart started to beat rapidly.  Narrowing my eyes, I crept over, keeping low to the ground, then pounced and pawed through the swathes of dead leaves and thin roots dangling limply in the air. 
            And I found…nothing.  Just smooth gray rocks, nestled in the long grass.  It must’ve been a diversion, thrown from a little farther from along the rows of snarled plants.  Sighing heavily, I slumped and flopped onto my butt, onto the exposed dirt underneath.  I had probably just let Sarah or Angelina make a run to a better hiding spot.  They were smart, after all, and I was…uh…not as smart.
            I slowly spun around, pushing off with my heels, still sitting on the ground and most likely ruining my jeans, yawning and stretching.  If I didn’t come after them for a long time, they would eventually give up, right?  I pondered this and stared out at the horizon, where the sun was making its fast progress down, down, down. 
            For some reason, instead of slowly emptying out, more people started to fill in the park, which was rather unusual around here. They were all professional-looking business dudes with short regulation hair, dark suits, identical shades, and stiff walks.  In fact, they were so incredibly stiff that I wondered if they’d been working overtime.  But…it was pretty late already, and I figured most dads from work would be hurrying home to their families, not having a picnic in the park. And who would have a picnic at this hour, anyway?
            Standing up, I set off at a brisk walk to see what was going on. I caught sight of the several black, sleek sedans parked in the lot, which were cool and all, but reminded me a little too much of spy movies for my taste. And really? Black sedans? What a cliché.  The whole black-suit-dude-and-sedan concept was sort of creeping me out.  I just wanted to yell at them to cut the act already, because the way they looked at me, like they were X-raying me with their eyes, was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.  As I managed to innocently skip past them, through my peripheral vision I could see them grouping together in little football huddles, murmuring to their fellow stalkers through comms units, discussing among themselves. 
            This was getting too suspicious, even for me.  I definitely felt that something here was majorly wrong, that these businesspeople were scoping me out, and so I needed to get out of the park.  Where were my friends? If I could find them, there would be no need to stay around these scary…who-knows-whats. 
            “Sarah? Angelina?” I called softly, hoping they would hear me and actually come out.  Apparently not, because only silence stared me back in the face. A squirrel scampered up a nearby tree, cute but of no help to me whatsoever.  I started to panic but forced it down a few centimeters, shoving a lid on my emotions.  Stop it, Sam, there’s no need to freak out and have a seizure, I thought as I kept searching for my friends, even as I felt the businessmen’s eyes boring holes in the back of my head. Just keep calm, find Sarah and Angelina, and get out. You can yell at them later for worrying you, but now is not the time. What would they do? 
            I paused over a thorny thistle bush to think. If I were Sarah, I would go with the not-so-diplomatic approach and yell at them that I was going home.  Okay, that was not an option. I was not leaving my friends here to stick with the unfriendly-looking suit guys. 
            Now, if I were Angelina…If I were her, I would not be having a panic attack. Angelina’s as cool as a cucumber; there is no way she would’ve been in this situation to begin with. 
            Soooo…now what? Option one: nope. Option two: was already a dud from the start when I was panicking.  I would have to figure out what to do on my own. 
            Worry must’ve crossed my face, because some of the businessmen looked a bit concerned (if that’s possible while you’re wearing a pair of sunglasses).  I quickly turned away so they wouldn’t see the over-alarmed little girl that I was.  Okay. Where are my friends?  I gritted my teeth. This was pretty hopeless. 
            I checked under more piles of rocks, wishing that my friends would appear in front of me like the fairy godmother in Cinderella, but to no avail. Not that I had expected it to work, but a girl has to keep trying.  Settling on my heels back in the grass, which tickled my elbows at this height, and stared at my feet and thought. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to think about Sarah and Angelina, even if they were originally my priority.  Maybe I had to think about other things first…like why these crazy business people were hanging out here when I’d never seen them here in my life.  What were they doing?
            Well, they really could be having a picnic meeting (highly unlikely), they could be the police looking for someone (possible but also unlikely), or…who else could they be? Detectives? I doubted it; none of them had fedoras on or Sherlock Holmes pipes.  Though those were a bit stereotypical in terms of props…
            I tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting back to Sarah and Angelina. I scowled mentally at myself and slapped the side of my head. Think, Sam, think! 
            Suddenly, in the slow-recognition-of-obvious-things way that I have, I remembered the silvery cell phone in my pocket and gasped, sitting upright.  Duh! I slapped myself (, only mentally because it would hurt if I did it physically).  I could use the phone to call Sarah! 
            With shaking fingers, I removed the cell phone from my pocket and flipped the top open. I’ve always wanted a phone with the slidey-screens, but I’ve never been able to save up enough allowance…but more on that later.  The luminescent screen of my phone was shimmering like a glow-stick in the fading light.  I squinted and located the contacts button, then selected Sarah’s numbers as fast as I could and waited, my heart going ba-dump, ba-dump.  The phone’s ringing was echoing in my ears and sending little shivers down my spine. 
            I’m sorry, the phone informed me in a monotone voice that plainly wasn’t sorry at all.  My heart froze in my throat as it continued, 770-413-9163 is not a recognized mailbox. Please try and call again. Or, you may press—
            I stopped listening.  My chest was starting to hurt from the speed my heart was going—the same way it did right after I ran a marathon.  My adrenaline flared up, my stomach rolled over, and I felt a like I was going to pass out any second. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.  My spirits were plummeting at roller coaster-speed.  Sarah couldn’t find me. 
           The phone kept chattering on in its expressionless tone, but none of the words registered in my ringing ears.  I was scared of those men.  Mostly because I sensed they were still sneaking glances at me.  And I get stage fright. I’m not good at being the center of attention, especially since I really don’t have a way with words. 
            Beeeeeeep.  The phone finished its monologue, and I dialed in Angelina’s number without much hope.  Of course, with the way my luck works, they were the same results as with Sarah—I wasn’t surprised in the slightest.  Angelina almost always keeps her phone off…not on purpose though…
            But that still meant I couldn’t find them.  Either my friends were really getting into the rhythm of this hide-and-seek tag game or they didn’t know what I was doing.  Both ways didn’t seem good.  That was bad, obviously.  I knew that much. 
            I stood up and paced for a moment, kicking up dirt into little clouds of dust at my feet, then left my circle of destruction and went deeper into the more tree-filled area of the field, leaning against the back of one of the smooth, sturdy trunks.  At least if the businessmen were looking for me, I could always escape up into the tree.  Unless they were good tree-climbers…well, I would just have to hope that they weren’t. 
            With a final idea, I punched in my home phone number.  Mom would still be at home, so she could come and pick me up, and then I could go with the Sarah strategy and yell at my friends that I was leaving. That would get them to come out.  For the first time today, I wished that I’d told my mom that we’d changed plans to go to the park instead. She probably thought I was still at Sarah’s house.  If she went there and didn’t find me…well, she would probably start to panic, just like me.  I bit my lip.  If we had been good little girls and asked an adult to come with us, none of this would’ve happened. All I would’ve had to do was say that these businessmen were creeping me out and ask if we could go, and that would be the end of it.  I held the phone a little closer to my ear.  Each ring was a long, long waiting process to connect with someone who would be able to help me in this situation. 
            As I waited, a muffled voice cried, “Sam!” 
            I whipped around, sure that the voice had been Sarah’s.  But…strangely, there was nothing on the other side of the tree where I’d heard her voice.  It was just the regular old scenery of bushes and trees, and I even spotted a stiff businessman near a bush, loping away at record-slow speeds.  He paused as two other businessmen joined him, and the first guy nodded.  All three of them sat down on the grass, disappearing from view  behind the bush. Okay, maybe they were having a picnic after all…
            But what about Sarah? I’d heard her voice. Had I imagined it?
            Yes, I imagined it, didn’t I, I thought wearily, turning back so I was facing the woods again.  That’s just lovely. Not only am I panicking like Mama Bear who lost one of her cubs, but I’m also going to end up in insane asylum. Just perfect. 
            The phone was still taking forever to ring, and I sighed and waited.  I was really missing my friends…until now, I’d never really understood, or known, how much I’d taken my friends for granted. It was pretty lonely out here.  I closed my eyes, hearing the rustle and crunch of leaves, the whistle of the wind, and just wished that I could get home—
            And just to top my day off, that was when someone clapped a hand over my mouth. 
            I gasped for air, since I’d practically let it all out when I realized someone was kidnapping me, then tried to scream.  The panic that I’d been hanging on to by my fingernails now rushed through me, setting my nerves on fire.  My cry was muffled by a cloth, which was giving off a sickly-sweet scent.  I haven’t had kidnapping experience, but I managed to realize as my heads spun that this was the effect of drugs.  I tried to twist and thrash, but now my body wouldn’t obey me, and instead I half collapsed.  I was dimly aware of someone grabbing my upper arm roughly, another dragging my legs.  Everything was so blurry already that I could only see an indistinct dark figure, and I tried to scream again, which quickly petered off into a dry cough.  My vision was going multicolor, everything spinning around and around like a washing machine.  There were loud voices, and the volume increased as others started barking orders.  Someone called, “Bring her over here already!  Take it easy, okay? She’s just a kid!” 
            “Shut up, Mason!” the guy holding me yelled back.  “She’s still conscious!”  I was jerked to one side, and felt my body land against something hard, but I was too weak to yelp. 
            I groaned softly, my own voice not making any sound in my ears. I couldn’t see. Something was wrong with my hands…
            A wave of black rose over my vision, and everything went dark.