A Different Way to Pay the Rent

I struggle against the ropes tied around my hands and feet. It is no use; no matter how hard I tried, I cannot free myself. So far my venture into adulthood has began rather horridly.

My eighteenth birthday was celebrated with my social worker smiling as I signed paperwork and my foster parents slipping me a twenty as they wished me well in life. My social worker offered to drop me off anywhere of my choosing, but I declined. As far as I was concerned, the sooner I got away from the painted faced gargoyle, the better.

I already had a plan set in place. In preparation for the day I aged out of the system, I had dropped out of school halfway through Junior year to work full time at a local pizzeria. Given I spent most the money on recreational and dates with girls, I did manage to save roughly 4K. I bought a beat-up truck with half the money and had the rest in cash.

My plan was to drive from my suburban foster home in Nevada to somewhere in California, preferably near L.A. With a single backpack containing my belongings, a road map, and the radio blaring, I headed out on my adventure.

The trouble was my used car was not as reliable as the salesman lead me to believe. It broke down a short while after crossing state lines along a not-so-busy highway. The engine was smoking and, with no cell phone or rest stops nearby, I was stranded. I waved my arms at the slow trickle of traffic going by. It was nearly twenty minutes before someone finally stopped.

I smiled as two men in their thirties came to greet me. But as them came near I noticed one holding a bat in his hand. I tried to run, but the other grabbed me from behind. His buddy took a swing and the last thing I remember was the bat connecting with my forehead before passing out.

When I awake, I am in the lying on the ground, surrounded by trees. There is no trace of my car, belongings, or either of the two men. They left me bond and gagged in the middle of nowhere with bugs crawling all over me. The only thing I can do is spit out the nasty sock shoved in my mouth and scream, hoping someone will answer me.

That's when I hear rustling of leaves behind me. I roll over to see a woman in her mid-forties standing there. Despite being older and wearing clothes that look like they belonged to a lumberjack, she is beautiful. Her eyes are green with jet black hair that frames her elegant features. She kneels down beside me and in a soft, yet powerful voice says, "Looks like the gods gave me a beautiful offering today, all wrapped and ready to go. This is quite interesting indeed."

Taken aback by her remark, all I can manage is, "Pl-please, I n-need he-help."

She laughs. "Really, I never would have guessed."