One Thousand Songs Later

Lily's POV:

"Lily! Get in the car right now!" I smiled, for the first time I'm happy where Kyle is taking me; home.

As I climbed into the car, the doors automatically locked, but I'm used to being in a cage, literally, whenever we fly somewhere, I'm put in a cage. I tried to get a glimpse of the town I'm in, Chicago but no luck with the blacked out windows. I don't even know why I still bothered to try. Kyle turned to me.

"Please tell me you haven't put on any weight since we've arrived?" I shook my head.

"No, I burned off last night's Chinese food, don't worry, I checked on the scale."

"Did you moisturize last night? I swear, if no one likes you in England because of your skin..."

"No! I did!" I started to panic, I can't leave London as soon as I get there!

"Alright now, get in your crate." Kyle ordered. I tried opening the door but I forgot for the thousandth time, that I'm locked in. I waited for Kyle to come around the car to escort me to the crate. Kyle put duct tape over my mouth and handed me my bag.

"Here, remember, you can only listen to music after you get on the plane and all the luggage is inside."

I crawled into the crate, savoring the last bits of sunshine, knowing I wouldn't be outside until tomorrow.

"Okay, see you tomorrow." I nodded before he closed the crate, completely enclosing me in darkness. I tugged on the duct tape, even though I knew I couldn't get it off for about an hour. I felt my crate being lifted and set then set back down; I heard a women grunt.

"That's a mighty heavy crate you got there, I think it's over 100 pounds! You might want to take something out to make it lighter because we have a policy-"

"For anything over 100 pounds costs an additional fee, I know, but it weighs exactly 100 pounds." I nodded, the scale never lied, I knew I was 92 pounds, the crate was an additional five, and all my stuff was three pounds. I felt the crate being lifted on something else and the woman grunted again.

"Well I'll be... Sir might I ask you what's so incredibly important that needs...six...ten...fourteen locks?"

"That's none of your business!" Snapped Kyle.

"Well sir, could you put your crate on here, I can't pick it up." The crate got picked up once again and it was in motion. I knew I was on the conveyer belt and things would about to get bumpy. But I was used to it and decided to get some sleep until the plane ride. I managed to curl in a ball so I could extend my long legs a bit. Fluffing the pillow, Kyle had nicely laid out for me, I took of my heavy jacket and laid it over my arms. Good enough, I thought as I drifted off the sleep.


I groggily woke up from a deep slumber, stiff from the zero physical movement. I managed to take off the duct tape without too much pain. I unzipped my bag and sighed in relief to see those three objects that I've had for three years: the cheese it box, my beats, and my phone. Opening the box I looked at the expiration date, I chuckled, May, 2014. The thing about cheese it's is that they really don't expire, they get stale but they don't expire. I dipped my hand in the box and pulled out one square, my little luxury.

Yes, I've kept that box since I got kidnapped, it's one of the only things I have of them. My family. I only allowed myself to eat one cheese it for every airplane trip I've taken, and I've been to many places; the box was was almost empty.

Taking out my headphones and iPhone, I quickly unlocked the phone (the password that I had to share with Kyle), and turned on the music. Doing my best to make my self comfortable, I sighed in relief when I heard them.

Your insecure,
don't know what for,
your turning heads when you walk through the door

I smiled at the sound of their voices, I listened to all their music in order, like I always did. It brings me comfort, knowing that I can hear them, even though they can't hear me. I could feel myself tearing up. No! I shouted in my head. I promised I would never ever show weakness again.

But that didn't stop the pains in my gut. I'm not sure if it's from hunger or from the realization of that I'm never going to see them again.

Notes

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