Chapter 2

I still look around after I eat; suddenly a hand running on a few strands of my hair wakes me. Wondering how I slept in that position? I have tried to open my eyes. I recognized a man; he smiled at me, holding his walking stick, his tobacco pipe, and his hat placed in front of the table where I eat and fall asleep, tied to that chair, while looking at him wearing a smile on my face. He was a big old man in his seventies.

I started recognizing, with blurry vision, two guards outside guarding doors for him. I rubbed my eyes gently to see them clearly and face to face.

"Hello, young girl." I heard the calm voice; he smiled at me. The click sticks to his fingers to release me.

"Did you like your food?" he said, blowing his tobacco pipe smoke mixed up with the air-vanished smells that remain through the air, and he looked back at me.

I felt intimidated and started to get scared now that I was fully awake, and over me, a thick, enveloping fog hung over him. I was hesitant at first, but I was curious about what was inside, and the reason why I was kidnapped was my first concern. I began to look at papers and photos. I took a closer look at my old house when I was little.

I remember that I was playing in front of that house.

"It was your parents' house, "he said, blowing his tobacco again, releasing smoke that disappears in the air.

"Where did you get all these pictures?" I struggle with my vision of him.

"Your father and I are brothers," he said, unpleasantly saying it; his face tricked me.

"You knew my parents? I know he drags my interest and reads my mind for my chance to escape, but he has my full attention now, especially on what my situation is right now, knowingly asking if his uncle could help and answer those questions. He looked at me. I saw his jawline gritted through his teeth. He tried to reach my hand and said calmly.

"Marry my daughter," he said, my jaw dropping.

I took my hands right away from him; right from those words, they echoed in my ears like I was struck by lightning and traveled towards my feet, leaving me stoned. I pay back attention to him. It's some kind of am I twisted of my entire whole being, a man asking and begging to marry his daughter. It turns out to be some kind of very crazy idea of an old man.

"Please help my daughter. I was so shocked. I'm the one who was kidnapped, and I'm the one who needs help, but it seems to me that I'm not the one who needs to be helped here but otherwise. Please,he said again, an old man with teary eyes begging for help to save his daughter's life.

I remember asking my parents if they would do the same thing for me, but I realized they were no longer here, like this old man in front of me asking for my help to save his daughter's life. Rubbing my eyes again, blurred vision turns worse without my glasses. I felt restless and could not see clearly wherever I stared. I only got blurred vision that could not be any better. Maybe they hit my head, so I got this worst vision.

The old man waves his hand to his guards, a tall, fitted, gorgeous woman coming out of the door appearing in front of us from the lights of that broken glass window; somehow it helps me to look at her closer. The woman standing in front of us looked at me; she walked near; she gave me eyeglasses; she had a calm sense; she was a quiet, decent woman like her father.

I was so speechless when I saw her face on with limited lights. She was so amazingly beautiful, stunning, and pure in a way. Those brown, sexy eyes, those hazel eyes, those long, beautiful, curved eyelashes, those fine, expensive business suits—she looked like a doll, a living doll...

I stared at her, thinking that the people they are dealing with do not have any clue why I instead marry a man. The worst part is her damn cousin, who is worse than ever before. I was a survivor since my childhood days and heard lots of bad news through many worst-case situations, but this one is more deliriously gone crazy on me in a way I am kidnapped and meet other relatives that never heard of them once or they ever did exist.

All I know is that I don't have relatives but only a few friends, but kidnapping me is the other way of saying we have a reunion. Come, it's not safe here. The old man speaks, waves his hand, and leads the way, putting his hatstand along with his walking stick and carrying his tobacco pipe cigar.

I started to follow, but his guards are so mean that they grabbed both of my shoulders, held me up, and escorted me as I followed the old man. I saw his daughter, a well-mannered woman, holding his father's arms as they walked.

I followed them, but there was a fine line between them. His daughter was a young, very gorgeous woman who carried herself well and had some qualities of her father's kind but a fine line between somehow dominant. I walk along with them, passing through hallways after hallways and never-ending corridors as I remember myself, as far as my memory serves me right.

A person, like his father, knew more wealth in life, seeing them the way they carry themselves and what they want to get an ideal woman that any man could have and die for but still thinking instead of a handsome man to marry.

Why am I, this old man, asking and begging for help to marry his daughter, but why not a man instead of me? I fainted as we walked along with his guards, holding my shoulder, the part where my glasses shattered into pieces.