#12 Taken

I started to walk towards the rising sun. Thank God it was Sunday. I could get home and sleep until noon, then wake up, have a curry, before chugging down my sleeping pills and waking up crisp and clean for work on Monday.

I love this time: when dawn breaks inch by inch, and the air is cool, a crisp wind blowing the shit from your hair; you almost forget that you’ve just spent the night watching all your friends get drunk and having strangers puke in your hair.

The streets are empty and nothing passes me on the roads, so my brain tells me to have fun and walk down the white lines in the middle of the road. In my semi-drunken state I stagger to the middle of the road. Behind me I can hear a car creeping up, but concentrate only on walking forward, instead of running to the pavement.

A black van drives up beside me and the driver grins before driving in front of me. Right in front of me. The back doors open and, before I can struggle I am pulled into the van.

My shoes fall off behind me, along with my life.

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