The time I was kidnapped (Kinda)

When I was a kid, I never went to other peoples’ houses or had slumber parties unless it was at my grandma’s house or something like that. I always begged my parents to go to friend’s houses, but secretly, I didn’t want to go. I was kind of scared to go. People have always made me nervous. I don’t think that the following situation helped anything.

Early in the First grade year, when I was almost seven, I hadn’t yet given up on the idea of going to a friend’s house. I could tell that I was wearing my parents down and they would give in and let me go to at least one birthday party.

Most my social hours were spent on the bus where a third grader, Ally, befriended me. She sat next to me everyday and told me how she wished she had a little sister. I told her about how I had two little sisters and they were the worst. I wished I had an older sister, they seemed awesome.

“I wish you were my little sister, your just so adorable and sweet,” she said and softly punched my arm. This should have been redflag number one, but I only saw an offer. An offer for me to have a big sister.

“We could play house,” I suggested.

“Or, you could come over to my house,” she offered and it sounded tempting. I thought it over for a moment and said yes, knowing that my mom would say no and I would end up spending the rest of the day by myself. “Perfect,” she chirped, “My house is just after yours; we could walk. It’s so easy.”

When the bus stopped at my house, I asked the busdriver nicely to wait for a minute while I ran in and asked my mom for permission, to my surprise, she said yes.

“Are you sure?” I asked again.

“Yes, just hurry back. Don’t be long,” she said, but I could hear hesitation in her voice.

With a skip in my step, I ran back outside to find the bus gone, but Ally at my front door.

“There you are, little sis, I’ve been waiting for you,” she said and it gave me an odd feeling of mistrust that I was only just then sensing.

“How far away is it?”

“Not that far, but we need to go farther because of bears,” she said with no hint of deception. This is just a blueprint of my neighborhood. The pink is where we walked.


An hour went by and eventually we made it to her house, the entire time I was uneasy and afraid that we were going to run into bears. I can’t even remember what we talked about. She just kept blabbing on and on about things, but I kept an eye out on every movement from suspicious looking bushes and she stopped every once in a while, thinking she heard something.

When we got there, I was confronted by a massive, hairy, and ugly beast. I screamed and Ally covered my mouth. “Shhh! They’ll hear you!” she whispered harshly in my ear, getting spittle on my face. It would’ve grossed me out if I wasn’t so terrified. Who was “they”?

The beast sprinted to me, pushed his clawed paws to my chest and licked my face. It was a St. Bernard, and I had a fear of dogs at that point in my life. Being that my nerves were already rattled from the adventure, I just kept screaming, and Ally pushed her hand on my mouth.

“Be quiet!”

“Ally! Where have you been!” hollered a voice from a balcony above us.

“I went for a walk!” she argued back, even though I didn’t see a need for an argument. All she needed to do was make a statement.

“I was just about to call the cops! You selfish brat!”

“Ugh! Mom! I hate you!”

“Who’s that you have with you?” she asked, and whistled for the dog to get off of me.

“A friend!”

“Don’t you use that attitude with me!”

With that, she stamped her foot and ran inside.

“What’s your name?”

“Madison?” I said with a shaky voice, trying to figure out when I got to go home. I didn’t know the social order for what was going on.

“Come inside,” she motioned to the front door below the balcony she was standing on. That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. I was hoping she would take me back to my home where people yelled less.

She was actually a really nice host. Looking back, I can really appreciate how well she catered to me, the guest, other than the fact that when I got inside, the argument doubled as Ally’s older sister joined in.

Apparently, Ally’s sister was being blamed for the whole thing, being that she was supposed to watch over her. And her mother told her that she was going to jail for child negligence. So she was freaking out. Everyone was freaking out.

“Where do you live, Madison?” the mother finally asked.

“Three houses down?”

“Then I’ll just drive you home.”

So she did.

And it was awkward.

And I finally got home.

And I was expecting a reaction from my mother like Ally’s mother, but I didn’t. Trust me, I was told what was what later, but my parents were really worried about where I was. I was pulled into a hug and told that I was home and didn’t have to worry anymore.



The moral of the story: Mom and Dad almost always know best. But hey, at least I got a story out of it.

Sidenote: 100th post



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