3 billion webpages on the internet, and you picked this one.


I love this one by Zach Brown at age 15...

I wake up in a car. No, a van. Yea, a van. I wake up in a van, and for some reason, some reason beyond my comprehension, we're moving.

"What the fuck?" I say, but they heed no response to me, for I am their hostage. And I'm tied up. What? Why the fuck am I tied up? Why am I in a fucking van? Why am I not being choked with duct tape or something? Any good criminal knows you gotta tape your victim's mouth shut. But not these criminals. Are they criminals? Who the fuck knows. I'm their hostage. Am I here willingly? No, why would I be here willingly? I don't even know where I'm at. Yes I do, I'm in a van. A van for Christ sake! Was I drunk? Do I know these people? Did I think I knew these people? Is that why I'm here? Did I get drunk, meet these guys, get in their van for some ridiculous reason that I thought was acceptable at the time because I was drunk? Did they knock me out? Yes, they must've knocked me out. I just woke up. Fuck.

They had to had knocked me out. How? I'm a tough guy. I can handle myself. All three of them must have been in on it. Of course! Why not? If there are three of them, then all three of them are in on it. Who are they, though?

What did I do last night? I remember going to Sean's house for a drink, but then how the fuck did I end up here?

Is Sean here? Does he know these guys? Is this a trick? A gag? Trying to pull one over on me, eh, Sean? A little revenge for all those jokes I've played on you over the years. But fuck, I've never played any jokes on Sean. I don't think. I don't remember playing any tricks on Sean. Maybe I have amnesia. Yes, that must be it! While struggling to save Sean from the horrible criminals, they ganged up on me and knocked me out, damaging my brain - you know, whacking it out of place - causing amnesia. But if I have amnesia, how do I remember Sean?

Shit. Shit. Shit. Sean is probably dead somewhere. Buried in the desert. They killed Sean and took him to the fucking desert to bury him. And now I am their hostage, their slave. They tied me up. I'm next. They'll throw me in the fucking ocean. Fuck. No, there is no desert near Sean. Or me. What the fuck? They couldn't have taken him to the desert. It's impossible.

It must be a trick. It has to be. No other logical answer. "Where the fuck are we going?" I shout, yet my only reply is a sigh from one of the guys.

I don't know which one, but one of those goddamn sons of bitches fucking sighed at me. When I am untied, I'm gonna kick his ass.

This is how it will go: When they untie me to throw me into the ocean, I'll stand up and ask which fucker sighed at me, and when the one who sighed admits to it, I'll fucking stab him. With what, though? A pen! Yes! There is a pen in my pocket. I know it will work because I have seen it in movies. Not just any movie, though, but The Bourne Identity. When Jason Bourne stabbed that fucker that was trying to kill him with the pen. That was great. I'll be Jason Bourne. I am Jason Bourne. I even have the amnesia! Wait, fuck, no I don't. I almost had the amnesia. I was this close.

Fucking shit. Wait, why would they untie me if they are going to throw me into the ocean? They won't fucking untie me. No way! They'll just launch me in there. Those pieces of shit. I'll teach them a lesson. With my pen.

Where the fuck is Sean? Was anyone else there last night? No. No. Yes. Maybe. No. No one else. We were going to call some other people, but no one could make it. Thank God. They would be dead, too.

Or maybe not. Maybe we would have called Victor. Victor could've helped Sean and I fight off these fuckers and we would be the ones driving and they would be the fucks in the backseat all tied up. We would be sighing at them. No need for pens. We would have guns. Yes, guns. The guns that they tried to use on us. Of course! We would overpower these criminals and take their guns. We would be heroes. All over the newspapers. We would put these guys away for good, these no good, lousy criminals. That's all they are!

Fuck, if Victor was here right now we would kick these guys' asses. There would be no sighing from them. No way. They would be on the fucking ground, bleeding and crying for mercy. I can't wait until I am untied, I am gonna beat down the sigher. That stupid fuck. Ties me up and then fucking sighs at me?

They could at least give me some answers. I'm sick of waiting. Why didn't they tie my mouth shut? Are these guys amateurs? Is this their first time kidnapping someone?

Where could Sean be? Is Sean in on this? Of course! He must be! He has to be! How else would they get into his house, kill him and kidnap me? He's not really dead. It's like on those soap operas, when you think this guy died, and he's your favorite guy, and you're all pissed off, but it turns out he's not dead, but he just set the other girl - who is also his sister-in-law - up. Just set her up for the kill. Just like I'm being set up.

After I am untied and beat these guys' asses I am gonna go find Sean and kick his ass, too.

In fact, I'll kill him.

I have to. It's the only way. I'll be a murderer. No better than the three who have me now. My fucking captors. No better than them. A petty criminal.

I can't do that. Sean is a friend. No, I have to. I must. I must be strong. I must. Sean set me up. I have to finish the job. He will be so surprised when he sees me. Nothing but a pen in my hand and blood on my clothes. Not my blood, though, the blood will be blood from my captors. Maybe a little bit of mine, too. There are fucking three of them for Christ sakes.

How the fuck will I fight three of them? I'll have to take out one right away so I can grab his gun. Yes, that's the plan. The one who sighed at me. I'll fucking rip his face out with my pen, then I will take his gun. Yes, his gun. I will then shoot another one, it doesn't matter which. Whichever one is on my right. Yea. Because I move faster to my right and I have to take this guy out fast. Do I move faster to my right? I'm not sure. I've never tested it out. Maybe I have and I don't remember. It's the fucking amnesia.

And then the other one will have a gun, too, but I will make him drop his gun, and if he doesn't drop his gun I'll shoot it. I won't shoot him; I'll just shoot his gun. No, I'll shoot his hand. Then he will drop the gun, and while he is blinded with pain, I will come and kick the shit out of the bastard. Then I will shoot him. After he suffers of course.

I don't want to have to kill him, but sometimes this is necessary.

But what if he drops the weapon? Then what will I do? I am not counting on an honest criminal, so I won't worry about that. No, of course that won't happen. Hah, a criminal dropping the gun because I tell him to? Laughable. But what if he does? That will throw me off guard; maybe long enough for him to pick his gun back up and shoot me.

I must plan for this. Ok, if he drops his gun, I will shoot his hand, anyway. Yes! I will shoot his hand anyway. Then I will just proceed with the rest of the plan as if he did not drop his gun. Of course! Yes.

But now I have this fucking ear ache and it won't go away. It hurts like shit.

Maybe they punched me in the ear. Could have happened. How am I to know? I almost have amnesia. Kind of.

For some reason I'm reminded of the time when that fucker Stan punched me in the ear in junior year. That stupid fuck. I kind of wish he was one of my captors so I could beat the shit out of him.

Maybe he is. And he punched me in the ear again. Maybe he's the sigher. I don't remember much of him, but maybe he sighed a lot. I would remember if I didn't have this kind-of-amnesia.

- by Zachary Brown