Clueless Love

“Move it,” he says using the gun to direct me which way to go.

I comply and walk towards where he says, without struggle as I don’t want to get him angry. We step into a room, and my fears and questions are answered.

“Umit what are you doing here?” Ismail asks sounding very worried and surprised to see me. I can’t believe I was right; they have Ismail. They tied him to a chair.

“Ismail are you alright? I have been looking for you,” I say trying not to sound scared, but glad at least I found him.

“You can’t be here right now. You have to leave,” Ismail says trying to remove the ropes around his hands to get to me.

“HEY! Enough talk. You! Fine lady, follow me. Ismail shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” the scary man says.

Ismail and I don’t say anything, but I can tell he wants nothing more than to get me far away from here as soon as possible. The scary man leads me through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

“Why did you capture us? We did nothing wrong!” I say to the man as he ties my hands with a rope.

“You did nothing wrong, pretty lady. We just need you to make Ismail boy over there do what we want.”

“What do you want to do with him, you better not lay a finger on him,” I tell him, getting protective of Ismail.

“Hey there, watch that tongue of yours if you don’t want me to cut it out for you,” he says, pressing the gun to my cheek. I don’t say anything but glare at him and notice he looks a bit familiar. Like I have seen him somewhere, but I can’t recall.

“So, now that you have me what are you going to do with me,” I ask while I try to figure out what is going on, and who these people are.

“That is for me to know, and for you to worry about. Now, stay put and don’t make trouble. If not, I won’t be responsible for what happens to Ismail,” he says with a nasty grin and walks out.

How did they know who I was? Were they waiting for me to come and look for Ismail to capture me? Is the man on the front desk involved with them and that’s why he gave us enough information to start looking? And what is it they want Ismail to do for them, that they had to get me? I am sure they think I mean a lot to Ismail. They don’t know I am just his sister-in-law.

Also, the scary man looks so familiar. Oh my God, Subhan Allah (Glory be to Allah), now I know where I saw his face. He was one of the people standing with Mr. Alberto in the video. He is with Mr. Alberto, and that could only mean Mr. Alberto is the one who ordered for us to be kidnapped.

I must do something to get Ismail and myself out of here. I can’t let these people hurt us or worse. I must think of something and fast.

I look around for anything that can help me cut the ropes from my wrists, but there is nothing sharp around here. I open the cupboard above the sink and see only toiletries. I look around and stop to look at the only thing that can become a sharp object. Ya Allah, I hope what I am about to do does not cause more trouble for Ismail and me. I don’t think about all the things that can possibly go wrong and just do it.

I put my hands in a tight fist. I say Bismillahir-rahmanir-rahim and punch the mirror as hard as I can, praying no one hears the noise. The mirror breaks into pieces; I quickly pick a sharp piece up and use it to cut my ropes.

Now I have to find a way to get out of here. I open the door gently and look outside. I see a man inside the bedroom, but his attention is on the TV. That’s why he didn’t hear the noise I made. He has his back is to me so he doesn’t see me. I didn’t even notice him when I was brought in. A crazy idea pops into my head, but it seems like the only thing that might work. I begin banging hard on the door so that he will come to the door.

“Hey, what is your problem over there?” The man yells and walks towards the door. As he is about to turn the doorknob, I grab the door and yank it open quickly, using a lot of force. The unexpected move makes him fall, banging his head to the ground like I hoped. I quickly check his pulse, just wanting to be sure I have not killed him. He is still breathing Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah). I look around for anything I can use to tie him in case he wakes up before Ismail and I can get away from here. I see some rope beside the toilet door. I use them to tie him up. I make sure to tie his hands and legs together, not daring to take any risks. I take his gun in case I need it. I might have training in martial arts, but I can’t even hold a gun properly, my hands are shaking so much.

I carefully open the door a crack, checking if anyone heard all the commotion, or is facing the door. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah) like last time no one is. Maybe today is my lucky day; everything seems to be working out in my favor. I can only see one guy and he is in the kitchen, with his back facing the door. I carefully tiptoe toward him. I try to steady my hold on the gun, but the fear of what a gun can do to a person won’t allow me. Ya Allah, I pray I don’t have to use this gun.

“Don’t move,” I say pressing the gun to his head with trembling hands while I pick his gun up from the counter.

I don’t even know how it happened, but I quickly turn to the side, shielding myself from whatever weapon he used to graze me. I take a few steps back to recover and understand what just happened. I feel a sting on my face, I use my hand to touch my face and I see blood. Oh my God, he used something to cut me. I look properly and see him holding a knife in his hands.

He does not allow me to fully process what is happening before he walks forward and swings the knife at me. I bend backwards as the knife goes across my head. Wait, where are the gun? I don’t get time to think before I pivot to the right making him swing the knife into the air. When I do that, I see the guns are on the floor a few feet away from us. He swings the knife at me again towards my right; I pivot to my left. When did I drop the guns? They must have flown out of my hands when I was turning to the side the first time. I knew my grip on them was not strong enough. Now that I know the guns are out of both our reach, rather than be on the defense, I decide to attack.

I walk forward with new determination to leave here alive. As he swings the knife towards me, I grab his thumb for a stable hold. I push the flat side of the knife, using it to get the knife out of his hands. I quickly throw the knife at the closest wall.

“It seems like someone has a few skills up her sleeves,” he growls as he takes a few steps away from me.

“I guess I do,” I say happy. I was able to safely get the knife out of his hands.

“Let’s see what you are made of,” he snarls, walking back toward me.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

He grabs my hand unexpectedly and tries to punch me. I block it by lifting the arm he grabbed upwards, blocking the punch. I use my other arm to punch him on his chin, but he sees it coming and blocks it. He swings his right arm at me, I use my left hand to block. He swings his left arm; I block it with my right arm. We engage in a 360 defense. I decide to break it by taking a little step back and coming forward with a strong kick to his right ribs. I repeat the same kick to his left rib and punch his face before taking a step back. He stumbles backwards, spitting blood out of his mouth.

“I am going to kill you,” he says walking forward with anger.

He tries to punch me, but I block and grab his arm. I guide his arm back down exerting pressure on his elbow. I position his arm diagonally to me, creating a maximum extension of the arm. I pull his arm down to the floor with his entire body following suit. I twist it hard, causing a cracking sound from his body. I see the gun not too far away from me. I pick it up and press it to his head, and this time, I make sure my grip on the gun is strong.

“Don’t move and this time I mean it,” I say, dragging him up to stand. I knock him out by using the edge of the gun to hit his head. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah) that is over. Now let me go and find Ismail so we can get out of here, but not before using a rope to tie the guy up.

I walk to the living room where I saw Ismail, still tied up to a chair.

“Umit, what are you doing here? Why do you have blood all over you? How did you get here? Did they hurt you in any way?” Ismail asks sounding confused and worried.

“I can’t explain now, but we have to leave,” I say loosening the ropes around him.

“Fine, but as soon as we leave here, I want answers,” Ismail says, standing up so we can leave.

We open the door to step out but come face to face with the scary man from before. Ya Allah, please get us out of here soon.

“Not so fast, the both of you,” he grins while pointing a gun at us. He walks into the room while Ismail and I walk backwards. I wish I could punch that grin off his face.