Paradise Chapter 10:

Hey, I've been kind of on writer's block (meaning I have no ideas lately) and some stuff has been troubling me personally so I apologise again for being a sucky blogger with not posting enough. :(

Hope you enjoy this chapter though, tried making it as long as possible.

I've already shown some hints to the whole mystery of the kidnapping, anyone smart enough to catch the hints?

-

Previously in Chapter 9:

“La2, entay g3day wyaay,” Deep Voice grabbed my arm before I could go back inside. I smiled to myself but Hamdan looked worried, he shook his head, telling me no but I ignored him; I looked back at Deep Voice.

“Wain?”

“Betshoufeen wain,” Deep Voice said before locking the door, trapping the others.

I was both terrified and excited.

Terrified because of this violent man in front of me, taking me away from everyone else.

Excited because Jawaa’s Plan Part 1 has just succeeded.

Just a few more parts to the plan left.

Just don’t mess up Jawa, don’t mess up. I thought to myself before being forced to follow Deep Voice.

-

“Dekhlay yalla,” he ordered me and I listened. He ushered me into an entirely different room, a room I haven’t seen before. The room looked more personal, personal as in that it was filled with dirty clothes on the floor; there were multiple manly looking perfume bottles on the dressing table besides me. The walls were painted in ash grey, the rug under me was black against the wooden floor; the bed was against the wall, which had a window right over it.

Darn it, the curtains were blocking my view of what was outside!

“Man, I didn’t realize how boring it could be having a bunch of students kidnapped,” his deep voice startled me, I forgot for a few seconds that he was standing right behind me.

“Um,” I mumbled, I couldn’t exactly relate to what he was saying. I ignored him and walked a few steps closer to the bed, clearly not wanting to stay close to him but not wanting to sit on his bed either. There was a chair besides the bed but I was afraid to sit, maybe he was a control freak and wanted to order me around, I certainly didn’t know a thing about him or his personality.

“G3day, shfeech?”

“Oh okay,” I sat on the chair, it was the safest spot and I was sure that he couldn’t do any moves on me that way. I watched him approach his bed and lay back on it, he was still holding onto his gun, aiming it straight at me.

“Khayfa?” He asked.

“Men?” I avoided his eyes, staring at the perfume bottles on the dressing table.

Polo. Burberry. Armani. Hm, no Abercrombie & Fitch?

“Meny.”

“Shaku?”

“You’re shaking,” he pointed at my shoulders with his gun, it only made my body shake more furiously.

“Is it the gun?” He looked at me and back at his fun, I saw the way his neck would move and I could have sworn I heard him smirk behind his mask but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

“No, giltlk I’m fascinated by them,” I lied, trying to buy his trust.

“Are you?”

“Eee,” I stared right into his ugly mask.

“3yal,” he breathed and paused, he got up from the bed and approached me, standing right in front of me with his gun before he said his next words, that only made my heart squeeze itself in fear, “meskeeh.”

“What?” I blurted out.

“Hold the gun, don’t you find it fascinating?” He challenged me.

“Fine, hand it over.”

“Oh no no, you won’t hold it alone.”

“What do you mean?” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Men9ijich ana mu ghabe, 3shan tethbi7eeny?” Deep Voice snickered. “Goumay.” He backed off, giving me some space. I stood up, listening to his instructions.

“T3alay, shfeech yal khawafa, ma ra7 athbi7ch. Well not yet anyway,” he laughed, finding his own joke funny, it only caused my face to pale in horror but I tried masking my own fear and I took a few steps forward. He turned me around by putting his hands on my shoulders and forced me to hold the gun alongside with him.

Basically I was holding his masculine hands and the gun altogether, it felt heavy and terrifying, his chest was pressed against my back and he was simply too close to me. I wanted to scream, to push him off but I tried controlling myself.

“Haa, shrayech?” He hissed into my ear, probably sniffing the fear off of me.

“I imagined that it would have been heavier, eh it’s more boring this way,” I made sure my tone sounded bored and uninterested but my heart couldn’t help but hammer inside my chest.

“A picky girl I see, maybe you’re the type who’ll enjoy rifles.”

“Huh?” I couldn’t hear him properly for a second, my ears felt blocked, simply touching the gun made cold sweat run down my neck.

“Rifles? Those big guns? Weeh entay sh3rfch, 9ej bent,” he sounded unimpressed and I had to impress him again.

Jawaa, think, just think! All those hours of you playing Call of Duty and Black Ops with your cousins on the Playstation 3 must have taught you something.

“I’m just not into baby guns, I thought you were the type who liked SWAT mini Ks or a L85 bas enta sh3rfk, you’re just a typical Kuwaiti guy,” I shrugged him off, finally pulling away from him and letting go of both the gun and his hands. I was taking a huge risk in ridiculing him but it was the only way to play his game.

“Sh3rfch eb L85 or a SWAT mini K?” He sounded surprised. At this moment, I wished so badly just to see his facial reaction but the stupid mask was blocking it.

“I told you, I’m fascinated by guns,” I continued to lie through my teeth.

“Hmm, how about this one then,” he smirked before walking backwards to his dresser. He pulled out the shelf and dug his hand under the clothes to pull out another gun. It was similar to the one he was already holding but it was bigger, definitely bigger and scarier.

“This is way heavier, want to try holding it?” He asked, this time he didn’t sound challenging but more intrigued.

“Why not?” I shrugged, biting the inside of my lip.

I swear Jawaa, if you mess this up, he won’t be the one to kill you but you’ll end up killing yourself with these guns!

I ignored the little voice in my head and approached him.

“Bas this time, I hold it myself,” I said before he could grab me.

“Mashe bas if you do anything funny, I’m shooting your head off princess.”

“The same goes to you smart guy,” I acted along and he seemed to enjoy it, he handed the gun over and it was way heavier! I tried holding onto it with two hands and avoided putting my fingers on anything that moved, I was dead scared of shooting someone.

Jawaa, now! Aim it at him, scare him!

A voice crept into my head, I was about to aim it right at him but the smart voice inside me clicked and whispered into my head:

Yal ghabeya the gun probably has no bullets inside it, don’t mess this up again, earn his trust then backstab him.

“Take a shot,” he said, disturbing my thoughts.

“At what?” I asked, alarmed.

“At the wall right there, yalla,” there was a hint of a smile in his voice. That was all the proof I needed to know that there weren’t any bullets in the gun indeed.

“Yeah sure, as if you’d be dumb enough to give me a loaded gun,” I smirked, winning his game.

“Smart girl.”

“I learn from the best,” I nervously giggled, trying to ignore the rock heavy gun in my hands. “Like I said, I’m not interested in baby guns.” I said, giving an excuse on why I didn’t want to hold the gun anymore. I handed it back to him and he took it back, laughing.

“I’m sure your dad wouldn’t be so happy learning that his perfect little princess has a love for guns,” he stated and his words angered me, who was he to talk about my father? But I clenched my hands into fists, trying to obtain myself.

“Yeah…”

Suddenly, I was homesick. I looked away to try to hide the teary eyes I had.

I felt a finger on my cheek, it scared me for a second but it was Deep Voice. I looked right at him, surprised and terrified.

Was he going to hit me again?

“That bruise, did I put that there?” He asked but he didn’t sound worried, he sounded proud. It made me feel disgusted.

“You’re lucky I forgive easily,” I lied, trying to get him to befriend me some more.

“W men gal abeech you even forgive me?”

“I had a feeling, that’s all,” I took another risk with my words.

“6ela3tay theqa.”

“W enta mu theqa?”

“What’s a man without his confidence?” He smirked before walking back to the bed, lazily draping his body over it. His shirt rode up slightly, his tan and masculine body showing slightly.

“Aren’t you curious about my identity?” He suddenly asked and I tore my eyes away from his stomach.

Whatever, he was six packs. So what? Dave Franco has six packs, Ryan Gosling has six packs, and they sure as hell don’t kidnap girls and hit them, now do they?

“Nah, not really,” I played it cool, walking around his, well I’m assuming that it’s his room. I tried looking for any hints about his identity, anything.

“3yal laish ga3da et7ouseen? You won’t find any pictures of me or anything that might lead you to my name, so don’t bother,” he caught me and suddenly I froze in my spot.

“I was actually looking for a hair comb,” I pointed to my messy hair, “or at least something to eat or drink.” I lied.

“You3ana?”

“La walla?”

“Starving for another day won’t kill you,” he bluntly stated. “A9lan hal shay yiwanes, you’ll lose weight in the process. You need a couple of kilos.”

So now I need to lose weight? Can I freaking slap this.. ugh Jawaa just don’t use up your energy for that a**hole.

“Yeah sure, let’s act like I’m a fat pig and you’re totally not attracted to me,” I attacked him.

“La et9adgeen nafsch wayed tara,” he smirked but his tone sounded wobbly, as if he was unsure for a second.

“Yeah, your type’s more like an idiot right? To match your idiot of a mind?” This time, I couldn’t control my words, the anger slipped out and I saw him bolt off of the bed in a hurry to approach me.

“Shnu?” He hissed angrily.

“N-nothing,” I stuttered, suddenly regretting every word I said.

POOP. POOP. POOP! UGHHH, Jawaa you ruined everything!

“No, say it again you b****. Idiot, ha?”

“Ma dam enk sem3t shgelt then don’t ask,” that was it, I had no control in me anymore. I let my anger pour out. “Idiot.”

And before I knew it, I felt a sharp slap to my cheek and a force had pushed me down to the floor. I only realized that it was him who had slapped me with such a force once I was o the ground, grabbing my left cheek as it began to burn in pain.

“Now I feel better,” he smirked.

“Are you freaking bipolar or something?” I yelled at him, I was no longer scared but furious.

“Shnu?” He sounded genuinely confused, not knowing what he did wrong.

“One second you’re cool then you’re that jerk again!”

“W entay shnu? One second you’re cool then you’re a total b****.”

“Telling a girl she needs to lose weight isn’t exactly red roses, okay?” I tried reasoning with him, I got some of his trust and I need to keep it.

“Shd3wa, you girls are so sensitive.”

I ignored him, rubbing my cheek and I stayed on the floor, avoiding him. I felt him stare at me, waiting for a response but I didn’t give him one. He was impossible to reason with, he disgusted me, he terrified me, he angered me, and he was a mess to control.

“Shekly maleit mench, hmm should I take you back to that room or not?” He thought outloud.

Ugh Jawaa, you messed up the whole plan! FIX IT.

“I’m a total b****, aren’t I?” I faked a laugh but tried making it sound as genuine as possible.

“Huh?” He sounded surprised but amused. “Shgeltay?”

“I’m a b*****.”

“W akheeran you confess to it!”

“Yeah sorry bas I’ve been dieting like crazy last year so when someone says anything about my weight I get pissed,” I lied, I’ve never dieted, I’m that girl who always enjoys her burgers and also enjoys working her butt off by playing soccer with the team but I gave him what he wanted, I gave him the typical girl of me.

“El’thaher tabeen tg3deen wyaay, ha?” He snickered.

“Theqa,” I playfully joked.

“I learn from the best,” he joked back and I was surprised, his moods changed so fast and I was still trying to hide the anger and disgust I had from him. I didn’t know if it was because he was just a guy or that he was seriously bipolar.

“One more stupid trick, you’re going back in the room or even killed,” he warned me but he sounded like he wanted me to stay too, to at least keep him entertained since for some reason he was so “bored”.

Before I could answer him, the door behind me was pushed open by another guy and before I could see if it was Young Voice or Mu6lag/Bu Hussain, I saw someone else entirerly.

Mi7sen was pushed into the room, all bruised and bloody by a tall figure that I didn’t really put my attention on.

“Mi7sen!” I cried out in horror, the acting I staged a few seconds ago melted away.

“Kahoo,” Mu6lag had stated. It wasn’t Young Voice afterall and Mi7sen was pushed down to the floor besides me.

“Perfect,” Deep Voice smirked, watching my whole reaction. Mu6lag left, closing the door behind him as I crawled towards Mi7sen, trying to evaluate him.

“Mi7sen?!” I started shaking him but he wouldn’t speak, his eyes were closed and his face was full of bruises.

But what really terrified me next were the words I heard Deep Voice utter in amusement:

“You are probably the worst actor in the whole country of Kuwait ya Jawaa.”

-

Don't forget to leave comments down below! Tell me what you think of Deep Voice, hate or love him? x