IV

The man clumsily collapses to the floor with a soft thud. He is out cold. I stand aghast over his limp body, I can't believe that just worked, I always thought that television shows were lying to us when someone got clouted over the head and they passed out. I always used to shake my head at the scenes, like 'it's all just fucking lies' . Guess it was true after all!

I raise the broom above my head the same way a boxing champion would hold his belt after a victory. I jump from my right to my left foot, smiling broadly at my non-existent crowd of fans that are cheering my name. I even go as far as doing a couple of bows are throwing a few 'thank you's' to the empty walls of the hallway.

I am snapped out of my victory dance when the lump of meat at my feet slightly groans in pain. I stop my nonsense and speed walk away from the man.

Not knowing where to go, I just head away from the passed out man on the floor. I run as fast as my legs will allow me to go. This place just seems to be one long, dark tunnel. There are no turns and no other doors, just a couple gas lamps strung up on pegs on each side of the tunnel's walls.

I keep running until I reach inter junction. I stop and stare down the two dark pathways in front, both heading into different directions. One curves into the right while the other curves to the left. I have no idea where either of the paths go, but I have no choice but to choose one of them if I want to eventually get out of this place.

Since I have no idea where either of the paths will take me. I do what I end up doing every time I am in doubt and am faced with a tough choice.

I recite 'inie meenie minie mo'

"Inie meenie minie mo,

catch a bad chick by her toe,

if she holler let her go,

inie meenie minie mo!"

When I finished singing the song, my finger is pointing toward the left tunnel. My methods are never wrong so with a shrug of my shoulder, I speed walk, because I can't run anymore due to a stitch the size of Texas on my side, into the dark hallway.

My footsteps echo loudly in the quiet hallway. The path curves and leads me towards the right, I follow obligingly.

I tighten my hold on my trusty broom. Reaching the end of the hallway, I confidently step into the well lit room. Five guys are sitting around a table in the corner. Loud hollers and laughs are coming from their directions.

Other than the group of men at the corner, the room is bare. The ugly mustard yellow paint coating the walls is pealing in most places and there is a metal bucket in one corner where a steady stream of water from the ceiling drips into it. The place looks like a serious health hazard.

Not even trying to hide or quieten my footsteps, I walk closer toward the group of guys. My loud footsteps are not acknowledged by even one of the men, they are so hooked onto whatever they are doing. I walk up to them, still going unnoticed. Upon closer inspection I see some bills, boxes of fruity flavoured bubble gum and an unopened packet of condoms in the centre of the roundtable. Surrounding the men's loot are cards, which give away the fact that the men are betting with cards.

The men are so encased in their little game that they still don't notice my presence.

"Uh, what's the condom for?" I curiously question, my voice causing all the men to turn their attention to me. Finally they notice me! And they call themselves kidnappers! I had to speak for them to even see me, wow. I guess kidnappers are just not as efficient as they used to be.

Ignoring the five pairs of eyes on me and walk closer to the table. I bend over the shoulder of one of the shorter guys and pick up the condom packet and inspect it under my gaze. On the black lamination on the box, I see a man and a women wrapped up together in a blood red silk sheet. The man is looking directly at me while the woman on top of his chest has here face buried in his neck. So intimate they are.

"Whose is it?" I ask while I turn the packet around, reading the information printed behind the black box. "Mmm, extra small." I inquire with one eyebrow raised in question.

At my last comment, a deep rumble of chuckles emanate from the men. One of the guys, whose shoulder I had leaned over to grab the box, snatches the packet from my hands and shoves the condoms in his back pocket.

With a red face the man embarrassed mumbles out, "I bought the wrong size."

I lean across the table once more and take a slab of gum from one of the open boxes, "No judgment here buddy, at least your smart enough to know to wrap up your wanker." I say in a chilled way, while shoving the stick of gum in my mouth. " Let me tell you that nothing is sexier than a safe man." I say while I throw a wink in his direction.

Another round of laughter fills the room. At the expense of the condom dude, his face turns even redder. Obviously my attempt at consoling him was not working.

"Shut up!" Mr Extra Small spits through gritted teeth. "And who the fuck are you?"

"I'm your father." I answer back with a serious face.

All the men's faces contort into ones of confusion. Not able to keep it in anymore, I bust out laughing. The looks of confusion do not leave the men's faces. They all look at the crazy woman that is busting her chops for no reason.

"Just kidding my Chynas" I say, the last of my laughter dying off. Most people would find it crazy to be laughing in such a situation. I mean, I got kidnapped and I am surrounded by men who could potentially kill me. But if I don't laugh now, I'll probably be on the floor and crying like a baby, and no matter how bad a situation I am in, I refuse to cry. Mainly because it is a sign of defeat and Amandla Jackson never gives up and secondly it's because I am a really ugly crier, and ain't nobody wanna see some ugly ass woman balling her eyes out.

I unconsciously shift the broom from my one hand and into my other while I continue to chew the stick of gum, savouring the explosion of fruitiness in my mouth .

One of the men who was paying attention and following my movements with his eyes cautiously, lifts a brow at the broom in my clutches.

"The fuck you have a broom for?" He questions.

"Uh...to clean, dwee." I say, with a dramatic roll of my eyes, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Don't you mean to say 'duh'?" Another one of the guy asks, his face scrunched up in the universal 'what the fuck' expression.

I slap my forehead with the palm that isn't holding the broom, and with a shake of my head, I say " Damn, I forgot y'all were Americans. You see, back home in South Africa some of us say 'dwee' instead of 'duh'." I say in a matter of fact voice.

"Why don't you just say 'duh' then, if they mean the same thing?" Another one of the guys asks, he has long blonde locks that are neatly put in a ponytail at the back of his head.

"Because" I say drawing out the word, " 'Duh' is so overrated and over used, and 'dwee' just sounds cooler." I say, shrugging my shoulder casually.

I end my statement by making a huge bubble with my gum. The bubble pops a few seconds later and I continue chewing my gum.

Without being invited, I sit in the empty seat next to Mr Extra Small. All eyes are on me as I scrape the chair loudly closer towards the table. Deciding that I was comfortable enough, I motion for the men to continue with their game of cards.

Upon my signal, the game is back in motion. Card after card is being slapped on the table and the loud shouts begin once more. Now that I am closer I can hear that the shouts are actually the men trash talking each other. One of the men shouts "fuck this you fuck faces" as he slams four aces on the table. The whole group groans as the man gloats while sliding the pile over to his side. Feeling interested, I lean in closer to the table and also into Mr Extra Small.

His aroma attacks my nose, unable to help it I sniff his scent in loudly. He automatically freezes and rigidly turns his head in my direction. His facial expression mimics the one of a deer caught in the headlights.

"What? You smell really good, I can't help it." I say without any shame. "And you have a very beautiful face."

I lean in even more forward to inspect his face. He has sand brown hair crowning his head, thick brown eyebrows and the most gorgeous hazel eyes, if you look close enough it is as if they got flecks of gold in them. He also has a straight nose and his face is complete with pink, soft looking lips. At my closeness, Mr Extra Small moves his head backwards, as far away from my face as possible.

"Um ... thank you?" He says awkwardly.

"It's my pleasure." I say with a toothy grin. " If you ever want to get to get down and dirty, give me a call." I say half jokingly. I move slightly backwards, to give him more space but I am still close enough to get occasional whiffs of his cologne. "Count me in" I say to the man dealing the cards out for a new game.

"What do you have to offer?" He asks before while giving the other men their cards.

Shit! I literally have nothing to bet with. I dig in my jean pockets to find nothing but and old piece of tissue. Out of nowhere a bright idea hits me! Pulling my arms into my shirt, I unbuckle my bra from the back. Pulling my arms out of my shirt, I pull each of the bra straps off of my shoulders and eventually pull out my whole bra from the arm holes in the shirt.

I throw the black lace bra onto the table. The men freeze as they all stare at the bra in the centre of the table before turning to me and then back to the bra. All of this happens while I sit there with a triumphant look on my face.

"Are you being serious?" The dealer deadpans. "You are betting your bra?"

The triumphant look on my face gets wiped away instantly. "Oh really?" I start, "You going to accept a packet of condoms but you ain't gonna take my bra?" I ask looking at each of the men's faces. "His condom's were even extra small, at least my bra is a 36C" I exasperate.

"She got a point there." One of the men throws in his two cents. With a shrug of his shoulder, the man dealing deals me my cards before sitting down and starting the game.

Time flies as we play game after game, and let me say... This Girl Is On Firrreee!!! I've been winning non-stop! With a huge smile on my face I slap my winning cards on the table.

"Bitch better have my money!" I scream out in victory while I shoot my finger guns in the air, before blowing on them and pretending to put them in my pretend holster.

"Nah you cheating!" One of the guys whines while throwing his cards down in defeat. "It's impossible to win so many times."

I stick my tongue out at the man, before turning back to the dealer and motioning for him to deal the cards again. "Show me the money" I say while excitedly rubbing my hands together.

T

he dealer reluctantly does what I ask of him, his probably scared to lose again. Hahaha sucker! The game starts again, but it's more silent now as all the men sulk like the bitches that they are.

The game continues but is disrupted when Mr Extra Small turns to look at me once more, dead in the eyes this time.

"Can you stop that?!" He yells slightly.

"Stop what?" I ask, confused out of my mind, clutching my cards with both my hands.

"Can you stop chewing like a cow!" I can here laughs after his stupid comment.

A shocked look morphs onto my face as I dramatically place a hand on my chest, feigning hurt.

"I do not chew like a cow! You, you ...you pig!" I exclaim out lamely.

"Yes, you do." He answers, with a triumphant look on his face, seemingly proud of his little 'funny' moment. Little does he know that he is messing with the pettiest nigga that he will come across in his life. I ain't called the 'Queen of Pettiness' for nothing. An evil gleam comes across my eyes as I vow to wipe that stupid ass cocky smirk off of his pretty little face.

"At least I don't have a fucking baby dick!" I exclaim out. I know it was a low blow, but the one thing you need to know about me is that I am a very sore loser. I really hate losing, and the crazy thing is that I always lose, like always.

The triumphant look on Mr Extra Small's face falls away almost instantly. His face immediately turns red. My mouth morphs into an evil smirk.

Before I can make further fun of the poor dude, loud pants and footsteps can be heard from the very same hallway that I came in from.

In no time, two men jog into the room. My heart drops painfully as I instantly recognise the two men as Mr Asshole and Mr Sexy Voice.

I really should learn the names of all these men.

Both men have a worried look plastered on their faces. Mr Asshole's eyes scan everyone's faces sitting at the table. His brown eyes land on my face and a flame of fury ignites in them.

"You fucking idiots!" He shouts out. His voice echoing throughout the room. "We've searching this place from top to bottom looking for the captive, and she was fucking chilling with y'all the whole damn fucking time!"

All eyes at the table, like many times before, all shift onto me. I squirm a little under all the men's gazes.

Without any warning I stand up, causing the chair to topple over behind me. I turn and run away as if a dog was hot on my heels.

♡♡♡

Hey guys! 👋🖐👋🖐

Long time no see. These teachers be acting like a bitch got all the time in the world to work on their subject since this quarantine has begun🙄😒.

My english teacher literally gave us 31 essays to complete on A Picture of Dorian Gray 😭😭

So anyways Chyna is a thing South Africans call each other. I do not actuay mean someone from China, so please don't take offense.

Much love, your girl Kenny ❤

Please vote and comment 😘