The Girls

by Chelis

Fortunate Step-Son

I still couldn't remember how long it was since I was dragged in here by men in black suits: Minutes? Days? Hours? It was hard to tell because the room was white, padded, and windowless. The lights were bright, the chair was uncomfortable, and the chains on my wrist was itchy. The table was also white, and empty. That was the bad news

Good news was I was not alone.

Bad news was Jenna was also chained here, and mediating. When Jenna meditates, it usually meant she observed the situation and was brainstorming ideas to get out of there and what inanimate in the room can be used as a weapon, which usually ended with someone getting hurt.

Or she was pissed as hell and was about to snap the first neck she got her hands on, no matter who's neck she snapped.

Good news was Nas was with us.

Bad news was that he wouldn't shut up on how happy he was, for the stupidest reason too.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded.

"Look at it this way, cuh," He started. "All the elite players in college got's a criminal record, so I'm set to win the Heisman!"

"That literally made no sense," I reacted.

"Shut up, both of you!" Jenna ordered. "If we are gonna have to find a way out, then we have to figure out who are we dealing with. Nassir, how did you end up here."

"Dunno, I woke up here," Nas answered.

"Thanks for your help," Jenna answered sarcastically.

"What about you brother?" Jenna answered.


Had to get up at six in the morning to pick up the bottles, the trash, and for some reason what was left of a burnt effigy of a Laguna player. It seemed normal: pick up after party, clean backyard, spend the rest of the day hanging out with the girls and get my body ready for next week.

What wasn't normal was the windowless van across the street. I looked to the drivers and they seemed too dressed to be mlp fans. They kept their eye on me, as if they were waiting for me to make one wrong step. I casually reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I texted Jenna to move the girls to the hiding place, deleted the text, and placed the phone back in my pocket.

As I prepared to turn around and continue cleaning, I heard the stepping of glass. I swung my broom and it landed on the face of a man in a black suit. It phased him a bit, but I couldn't of done the same to the two agents with him; who then viciously tackled me to the ground. The ones from the van leaped the Iron fence and made their way to the backyard, and then busted down the door to the guest hose. Somehow they managed to silence and then hogtie Gloria.

I heard the sounds of Jenna owning the two agents who came inside the house. The three who tied me up left me by myself and ran in to fight Jenna. It probably took them ten minutes, but they finally subdued her. They looked for the girls for a while but to no avail: We found a small, barely noticeable crawlspace that lead to a closet like room which we used as a hiding place for the girls. We even stored some emergency food and water in case it took a while.

As they took us away, the agents were discussing how the 'targets' were missing. We knew who they were looking for, and we knew this was going to be a long day.


"You could try to get out," One of the agents spoke as he entered through the door. "But you would be hunted down by the United States government until your eventual death by drone strike,"

"Sounds like fun," I commented.

"Anyway, where are the six girls you are harboring?"

"Six girls? I have no idea you are talking about," Jenna answered.

"The six girls that are living with you, we know they live with you through school records and we know they are not from this world?"

"Well, I am offended you are so american-centrist that you consider Bermuda 'not from this world!'" Jenna answered.

I snuck out a laugh while Nas had no idea what we were talking about.

"So... you," Jenna started. "You know you really should release us, you don't want to anger the wrong person ."

The agent laughed. "like who?"

"Oh like my step dad, who happens to give money to his local congressman... who is also the chairman of the House Intelligence Committee," Jenna said as she tossed a phone on her table, with a text message to our step dad explaining the situation.

The agents white face turned pale, and excused himself out of the room. He came back a few minutes later, still scared.

"You kids are free to go,"

"So, that was your 'meditation'"? I asked as we were escorted out of the room and into what looked like a office building.

Jenna nodded in a triumphant grin.

Next Chapter: Fight (or "How not to ask someone out to Fall Formal")