Nobody Told Me That I Would Be Learning To French Kiss HIM in French Class! [`19]

Gorgeous banner by seattleemp! Thank you! :)

So this story is coming to an end. I have another idea in my head and I'll probably would post the intro of the story in a couple of hours, or tomorrow. As for the sequel of 50 Ways, I finally know what the hell is Writer's Block. Unfortunately for me, this one lasts a bit too long ey? Sorry about that. I'm going to try, but all I can do when I'm trying to write an update is stare at this box blankly. Ended up having a headache after that. FML.

Another thing, completely unrelated...

Anyone reading this living in Kuala Lumpur or relatively close to it? XD

"Hey Mrs. M," greeted Matt when the door swung open. He stopped when he saw Mrs Miller dark bags under her eyes, and her skin was getting paler and...green-er? Possibly? Looking as if she suffered hell, she tried her best to give Matt a welcoming smile but it was in vain.

Looking around frantically, he then grabbed Matt by the collar and dragged him into the room much to his utter surprise. "Hello Matt," she said, her voice was sweet and little as usual but it sounded almost depressing.

He nodded. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything," he said, looking around the house in awe as usual as Mrs. Miller lead him to the living room. "I was just wondering if Hannah was okay?" he said. "I've got this bunch of notes for her so that she wouldn't lag behind," he continued.

"That's very kind of you," she replied.

Matt sense something was amiss.

Mrs. Miller looked almost perfect. And she was usually out working around this time. He was just swinging by to check if Hannah was home.

"Take a seat, Matthew," she said, sounding rather exhausted. Matt snapped into reality and saw the living room's table was scattered with maps and notes and what-nots. "I'll make you some drink. Tea sounds good?"

"Uh no, I'm fine actually," he stuttered, looking up at the tall woman and grimaced. "Mrs. Miller, what's going on here?"

She hesitated before sighing and sitting down across from him. She lowered her head down. Taking a few deep breaths, she started to talk again. "I don't know if I should tell you this Matthew but I think in a way or another...you...should know this."

He didn't like the sound of this.

Then she started explain the situation. Hannah being kidnapped, the police losing their lead, everyone was clueless. Everything. "They were able to trace the call. 'Rookie mistake' they told us. My husband has been in a fright since. And as you can see, I'm not doing too well either," she said.

"Mrs. Miller..." Matt trailed off, too shocked to utter anything else. "I..." he started awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

He wanted to punch himself. Somehow apologizing felt stupid.

"I want my children back," she said, almost in a whisper. "Maybe...maybe God did this so that He could teach me a lesson," she continued, looking distant. "We didn't spend time together you know. Sometimes, we had to leave Hannah and her brother alone in this house. Having them cook for themselves, clean up for themselves, deal with their own problems and..."

Matt felt something tugging at his heart. Anger? Grief? Or maybe both?

Mrs. Miller let out a sob. "I'm a bad mother."

"You're not," Matt said instantly. "I think...you just want your children to live a better life. Mr. Miller once told me that he wasn't as privileged when he was young. So the both of you are working hard to not let that happen to those two. And the way they grew up, I think you did a pretty good job."

If anything, the Miller kids weren't snobs, Matt thought to himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Mrs. Miller said, running a hand through her hair before fiddling with the button of her white blazer. "How embarrassing breaking down like this in front of a friend of my daughter," she said, wiping a tear away.

"It's understandable," he said softly. His gaze dropped down to the map. Someone drew a large red circle around an area. The others were Xs. Mrs. Miller saw that he was staring at it so she explained that the circle was where they traced the phone call.

"They're going to check out the place or something," she said, taking a tissue out of the tissue box next to her. "Because they're afraid that if they just burst into the area, they might hurt Jason and Hannah."

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Knowing that they might have already injured Hannah..." she trailed off. "I don't like anticipating but whatever to make them safe--"

"Whaddya mean?" he said quickly, looking towards Mrs. Miller. "Hannah got hurt?"

"When the call came...she was screaming," she said, a very worried expression on her face. "It was horrible."

"The FBI came a few days ago, said they'll handle it from here. Said that they need a plan before barging into...wherever they are. That is if they are still there," she sobbed. Matt got up, his knees shaky.

"Pardon me but where's the bathroom again?" he asked. "I need to wash my face.."

Mrs. Miller gave him the direction and he went upstairs, walked through the hallway and saw that the door to Hannah's room was ajar. He pushed it open slightly with his toe and saw the panda he once 'saved' for her resting on her bed.

His fists rolled up tightly as he went to the bathroom. Before he knew it, he was already punching the wall.

"Fuck, fuck!" he muttered under his breath, his blood boiling with rage.

AH!

AH DAMN!

I exhaled heavily, sweat trickling down my face. I tried again, this time with so much force that my wrist felt a bit too painful.

I kept trying to wriggle out of the bounds all night and day, feeling the rope becoming loose and my wrist getting bruised. When it was loose enough, I tried to untie it myself but I ended up spraining myself in a few tries.

When I finally got it, I felt exhausted. But if I were to escape, I had to do this fast.

I stood shakily as I made my way to the door as silently as possible. I discarded my shoes already. I looked down at my hands, which were trembling uncontrollably. I opened the door bit by bit, peeking outside carefully.

Out of panic I made a run for it. No one was catching me yet and I saw a door to another room, probably my next step to go out. I opened it carefully again and saw wooden, rotting staircases leading downstairs.

Downstairs, however, were those pigs.

Hope was quickly flying away from my grasp.

"Hello pretty lady, how'd you get out?" someone grunted behind me. I gasped and whirled around but a pair of arms already held me. Glaring, I stepped on the guy's foot. He yelped and I took the chance to have my hands around his neck. Then I punched him.

I turned around again towards the stairs but I was blocked.

"Hannah," Jason told me, sounding bored. "You're an idiot," he snarled.