“Heart and soul….you make me feel…” I murmured as I gazed outside the Greyhound bus window as we sat idle at a Burlington, NJ rest stop. The crisp autumn morning bit my fingers and I tried to ignite my frosty hands with warmth. The bus heating system was tarnished, and so we all sat lamenting over the lack of insulation and trying to engulf ourselves with heavy jackets. The penetrating cold had won and we sat shivering in this Siberian weather. My nose was as vermillion as a maraschino cherry on top of a vanilla bean sundae.
Llea, my best friend arrives and props herself back onto the grey and turquoise plush upholstery. She shuddered violently and I had to attempt to wrap my olive green shawl to keep her warm. “Amy, did you actually assume that putting a light as a feather of a shawl will thaw me?” She interrogated, furrowing her apricot brows and she twitched her eyes to intimidate me. I shrug, not even bothering to reply, I don’t want another “heated discussion” on how a shawl is only a fashionable item, not an item to disperse warmth.
Llea and I contrasted on our looks. She had paprika colored vibrant ringlets that cascaded an inch below her shoulders, with sea-glass green eyes and pale skin. Carrot colored freckles was sprinkled over her pointy nose and rosy cheeks. I, on the other hand, had jet-black hair, silky and straight. I had captivating mauve eyes and olive skin that was smooth.

It was 7:30 am in the morning of an icy morning, with the sun occasionally peeking out from the moistened cloud. The bus was hijacked by an unusual ruckus that aroused from the front of the bus.
“Grr…Vroom…Grr…” Like a howling menace, the bus moaned and groaned as it struggled to function. I felt agitated and hopped on to the bus seat, searching for my mom and dad. I spot them three rows away from me, on the right side of the bus aisle. My dad was soundly asleep, and my mom calmly read a New York Times Magazine.
My mom and dad were very busy. This means that they have-no-room-for-there-only-child. I was identical to my mom. She looked a lot like me but her tender eyes were drawn with stress and fatigue. My dad, in contrast, had deep chocolate eyes, and bushy coffee colored eyebrows. His hair was softly curled and a deep chestnut color. He was tall and slim and had a distant sense of humor. They were both surgeons by professions and they anticipate that I would thread on their footsteps. Not- going- to-happen.
I was actually exhilarated when my parents had agreed to go on a trip to watch the Jubilee Circus in Manhattan, New York at the Performing Arts Studio near Sony Technology Lab. My parents and I seldom kept each other company, and this gives us an opportunity to have “quality” time together with Llea trailing along with us. I felt annoyed when the bus broke down; I felt that I had disappointed them.
It was time to escape this bus, and catch some fresh air. I composed myself from the anger that bubbled in me, and had asked Llea if she wanted to accompany me when I go into the rest stop to grab a McDonalds Mc’chicken. She halts her I-pod that was blaring Beethoven’s who knows what symphony and follows me towards the door. Before I exit, I holler at my mom, “Moooom! I am going to grab something to eat!” With my mom’s nod in approval, I was out, and Llea trailed right behind me. The wind cut my face as I walked toward the entrance to the rest stop. It was beyond freezing. My teeth chattered and my eyes were stingy with tears. I looked behind me to see that Llea was not there. Alarmed, I frantically inspect around the complex. She probably went inside, I console myself and go towards the welcoming entrance when two hands reached under my arms and dragged me backwards.
My mouth is compressed by a gnarly hand, and my arm was stretched behind my back howling with tormenting afflcition. Before I could attempt to secure myself, I was forcefully shoved into a white Mercedes Dodge Van, tied up with a rope, shackling my hands. My mouth was wrapped twice with a blue bandana. I sat whimpering in the darkness as the car began to move. I heard something fidget in the utter darkness and looked around for any signs of movement. I recognized Llea. Her delicate eyes were replaced with terror and similar to me, she was a prisoner with rope around her frail wrists and a piece of yellow cloth covering her loquacious mouth.
The ride was everlasting and I soon fell into a restless sleep. I woke up, caressing my head. My head drummed a heavy metal beat of agony. My eyes were barely open and I saw the predator. He was a scraggly figure. He had ivory hair, and wrinkles that belonged to the bark of an ancient tree. His charcoal colored jacket had a fuchsia colored skull engraved on it. He approached his preys….which was us. There was an undetectable whisper and finally I heard an audible voice.
“Are these the girls… the one with the dough? There was a pause after the parsimonious comment.
“No! They ain’t you dumbwits!” A fierce voice blustered. I pretended to be in deep sleep as I eaves dropped on their conversation of confusion.
“Well… it be best if we release em’ actually it would be best if we never attempt a kidnap ever again. Our plans are an attempt of failure!” The old man barked. Water was splashed into my face and I was shaken like a baby rattling a rattle to wake up. I pretended to wake up from a night long, cozy slumber, but also displayed a hit of irritation. Although all my acts were artificial behavior, the accomplice of the head kidnapper who was sloshing me with water was convinced and cautiously backed away. I slowly flutter open my eyes, squinting to try to get a better glimpse of the maggot that drenched me. He was lanky and towering; he resembled something like a straw. My eyes became darts and I grimaced.
The anonymous accomplice moved on to the senseless Llea. It was nothing new, she was like this since we were hauled out of the Dodge van and thrown into this dimmed and grimy shed just a few hours ago. She was unconscious since then. The accomplice carried an pea-green colored bucket of water and a citrine colored ragged sponge to probably splash her face with the chilling water too. I anticipated Llea to be jerking awake screaming, but she still lay motionless on the cold concreted floor.
Llea abruptly jerked awake and kicked the conspirator on his face. She bolted upwards, and quickly pulled a rod out of the murky pipeline. I was astonished, and just stood as a bystander to her witty commotion. Soon, she was able to distract the guards and grab me. She removed me from my immobile state, and eagerly gave me a shove to sprint faster. We heard a boisterous clamor and we scuttled towards the door lickety-split.
We were outside, outside in a foreign area. There was meager foliage and we only saw a dipping sun into the horizon. We extinguished the igniting fire of the kidnappers’ scheme and even escaped. I had to give credit to Llea’s nimble devising, and quick reactions.
Who would’ve known that we were closer to something familiar than what we expected? After just a few barren streets of empty houses, and cluttered waste lands, we arrived at our bus station. “At last!” I squealed to myself as Llea exhaled in relief. I recognized my delirious parents, who looked as if they had aged ten more years. Everyone had a worrisome expression on their faces and was all on their communicative devices trying to locate… us. Finally, the bus driver who was ready to devour his foot long Subway sandwich had caught us lurking around the moping people and hollered, “I found them! I found them!”
Eager eyes and perked ears located the bellow and rushed over to us. We were showered with reassuring warm hugs, and pat on the heads. We felt like queens to a loving kingdom. Everyone’s attentive eyes were facing us as we narrated an exaggerated story of our very intimidating kidnapping story.
10 years later
“You should’ve seen my bravery! I was pummeling those kidnappers. I wasn’t even an ounce of scare! I proudly announced. Two carbon copies of my appearance, Aura and Adam sat encircled around me intently hearing me. “What about Aunt Llea mom?” They questioned eagerly. I made a smug face, and smiled. “Who? Llea, well she was a chicken, she was cowering behind me trying to hide her precious face.” I answered, giggling.
Although I had repeated this story numerous times, never forgetting a moment of that experience, I definitely learned something out of that chaos. Sometimes, plans don’t always happen the way you want it to be. Take a look at our kidnappers and how we ended up giving our tickets to the Circus to an elderly couple. Plans just have plans of their own.