I was quite a normal boy. I was adopted into a nice family in Austin, Texas. I was very smart and fit. I had 2 sisters, Barbara and Gretchen. I had an obsession with caffeine and energy drinks, and I liked horse riding. My family was a typical southern household that lived on a giant farm. My family sold various things, such as milk and wheat. They even sometimes go to the fishing lakes and sell some salmon and tuna there. I also had a good social life; I had many friends and good tutors that came up to my farm, but they were always peculiar in a way. They spent exactly 2 minutes and 33 seconds talking to my parents, before and after the lesson. Which I calculated myself.  They also eye me in quite an odd way, looking at me terrified, feeling bad. My Algebra tutor didn’t even look at me. He was too busy having a grave face, and explaining what a quadratic equation was for the 100th time. 

      “Isaiah! Your books are here!” My mother shouted. I was busy studying for my AP Calculus exam coming up in a few months. “Coming, mom!” I screamed. “.....functions can also model phenomena that produce…….” I read. I then immediately shut the book and jogged downstairs. “Here’s this month’s book haul, sweetie!” My mother said sentimentally. “Ooh thanks, mom!” I replied happily. I opened the bag and found 3 books laid carefully. The Amazing World We Live In by Sara Oswald, Gretchen Jolly and  The Titan Of Olympus by Yvette Nguyen, and Rural City by Ophelia Brown. 

I nodded to my mother and ran off. “Hey, Isaiah wait!” She shouted. 

“Yeah?”

       “Remember that Mr. Avery is coming up to help you with the exam studies.”

“Righteo. I’ll make sure to be ready. What time?” 

      “4 pm sharp. After your lesson,  we’ll celebrate your birthday.” 

“Can I go biking, then? It’s still 11.” I asked. 

      “Sure. Remember to come back at lunch.” 

“Thanks, ma. I will.” 

     I hurried down the stairs and waved goodbye to my mother. After that, I opened the door and left the house. I exhaled for a second, then went to the bike racks in the corner. Unlike my sisters’, my bike was black and had spray paint all over. It was very tall, with the seat being 3-feet high. I hopped on it and compared it to my sister’s crummy bike. It was pink and purple with unicorns all over it. The wheels were tiny and had an addition of training wheels. After that comparison, I began peddling. 

                                  **********

I hit the 20-minute mark for biking. My feet were aching and sore, but they kept on peddling. I was in Rollingwood by the time I was there. Most of my friends were in Rollingwood, so I decided to meet up with them. To be honest, I only had 2 friends, Mark and Andi. They were both vandals that lived in caves, but I came to like them. Andi was in college but dropped out a month ago after his parents moved to Alabama, and Mark was in high school but dropped out in freshman year. They were both close to me, and we had a good friendship. I never agreed with their morals, but they seemed like good people deep down. 

About 2 minutes later, I was in Rollingwood Park. Andi had his boxing classes here, so I knew I’d meet him. And I did. 

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“Ize man!” Andi called out. He was busy punching a guy twice his size. Andi was smaller but stronger. The other guy was bleeding from his entire body, asking for Andi to stop. That little coward. 

      “GO ANDI! BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF THAT GUY!” I chanted loudly. 

“NEARLY DONE, IZE MAN!” Andi shouted back at me. 

         After a final punch in the stomach, the man passed out. Andi walked towards me. 

“Dude, do you feel like boxing right now? Eric’s here. He’s basically your size.”

     “No thanks. Eric’s vicious. Do you want to bike right now? With Mark?” 

“Sure, dude.”

      Andi ran to get his bike. I waited slowly for him. 10 seconds later, he came back with his giant racing bike. 

“Do you know where Mark is?” I asked him. 

      “No idea. He said he’d find a new cave for us. Lemme call him.” 

He pulled his flip phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. 

“Hey, Markman,” Andi said.

      I heard a faint “Hey, dude.” come from the phone. 1 minute later, they finished their call. 

“Markman said he was near the City hall,” Andi informed me. 

         “Alright. City hall then?” 

“Let’s go, dude.” 

       We biked all the way to City hall, which was around a minute. There was no sign of Mark at all. The tall, bronze-skinned, mousy, black-haired guy was nowhere to be found. We went all over those 0.2 miles, and couldn’t find him. Mark was somehow gone. 

      “I’ll call the hunk,” Andi reassured me. He pulled his flip phone out of his pocket and dialed +1-512-55-0143, or Mark’s number. A moment later, Mark answered. They babbled about a cave for 40 seconds, and then Andi hung up. 

“He’s at the cave. The corner of City hall. Let’s go.” Andi told me. 

     I nodded, and we took off. We biked all the way to the corner of City hall and rushed into the cave. It was dark and hollow, with no hint of light to see what was happening. I heard a screech. I thought it was Andi’s bike stopping, but mine didn’t. I kept on peddling. Until I slipped on a rock. My bike fell and I did too. I heard two sets of footsteps approaching me, waiting to pounce. The second a flashlight was turned on, I was punched in the nose, and was knocked out. 

                              ******

         I woke up. My head was covered with something black, like a black paper bag. There were a lot of bumps, I didn’t know what was happening. It didn’t seem to be morning anymore, it had to be after 6 o’clock. I was tired and drowsy. I tried to remember how I came into this position, I just couldn’t. Hazy memories of Andi and Mark were now in my mind. Did they kidnap me? I don’t think so. What could’ve happened? Why was I in this position? 

      We came to a halt. I was picked up by someone. The place I was in had to have leaves on the ground because I heard rustles every footstep the person carrying me took. It was eerily quiet. 

The rustling suddenly stopped. 

     “You may come in.” I heard in a loud whisper. A door opened, and now I was in a sort of hallway. There were loud thuds every second the person took a footstep. Until the footsteps stopped. 

     “THROW HIM IN THE CAGE!” I heard. A sound of a gate opening was there, and then I was thrown onto the ground. My back hurt. My elbows and feet were so very sore. I heard more footsteps. I took off the paper bag, and I found a bunch of children ey-