You’ve Got Two Choices

“You’ve got two choices,” The man with a black mask says, “One: it’s you, or two: it’s her.” He points at us and then at the picture.

***

I was walking home from an after school activity, my parents had called and said they were going out for a bit and wouldn’t be home till late, maybe even the next morning. I decided I’d go to Chloe’s house, she said earlier that she’d be inviting the rest of our friend group, so if I could make it we’d all have a little get together because we haven’t seen each other since we changed schools. 

By the time I’d called my parents back explaining that I’d be sleeping over at Chloe’s, they sounded kind of upset or worried then they went on mute for a second and after said it was fine. I’d gone to get my pjs, a spare set of clothes and my toothbrush the sky outside had turned a brilliant red and orange.  

I strolled past the shops on the high street and stared at the most interesting windows. After ten minutes of stopping and starting, the sun had finally set and only a few people were still out.

Chloe’s house was two miles away from mine and at the speed I was walking it was obvious it would take at least half an hour to get there, but I didn’t mind, the air that night was so clean and fresh I would’ve stayed there if I could’ve but instead I felt a buzz in my back pocket and that was when my happiness ended. 

Help

That’s what it said, it said help. Chloe is a very serious person and she wouldn’t right something silly like help. That’s how I knew there was something wrong. 

I remember as I sit in the corner of the living room, when I’d gotten a text and ran all the way here; how I’d banged on the door not taking into mind that I should probably be quiet, and how it had opened a crack and a black glove had yanked me in and threw me towards the huddle of my friends. I fell in a heap at their feet and they all gave out a stifled gasp; their mouths were covered with tape. At that moment I realised I should’ve called the police but I was so worried I rushed head first into this mess.

I get up and look at the normally dressed men in black masks, the one who pulled me inside keeps watch at the window. Another, with a gun in his hands that I can’t recognise the type, stands by the side of a tall man who seems to be the leader. He looks down at us like a giant and I glare back. 

Chloe’s parents are really wealthy, so they’ve probably come for the money but it’s obvious they didn’t expect lots of kids to be here. I glance around quickly and take as much as I can in; by the door is my bag, the contents spilled across the floor: I forgot to close it when I was walking here, everyone is tied up and tape on their mouths, behind me is Chloe’s phone, shattered to pieces. They must have noticed when she texted me, I don’t know why she didn’t just call the police and let them hear what’s going on, I guess this is all she had time for. I look at her and see that her eyes are wide with fear and she’s just barely keeping her cool. I’m not tied up and I don’t have tape over my mouth so I take her hand and whisper in her ear that it’s going to be okay. I look at the others and they understand what I said.

“Hey, hey!” The man with the gun next to the leader stomps towards us, the man by the window doesn’t take his eyes of the road, “What are you whispering about?” He grabs my arm and pulls me up, pointing his gun towards me, I think it’s some kind of riffle, it’s a bit big for just breaking in a house and stealing. I swallow hard and a cold sweat breaks on my skin. The leader doesn’t speak at all, he gives the man holding me a fierce look and the man drags me over to the other side of the room, dropping me next to the back of the sofa. As I fall on my bottom I feel a hard rectangle underneath me. I wince quietly as it jags into my skin but I don’t move, I need one second and I can call the police. Just one second, one distraction and we’ve got a chance to get out of this situation. I cover my smile with a scared face and I’m not suspected at all. 

Why don’t they tie me up? I could shout but that wouldn’t do anything, I don’t think they believe one young girl could do anything against three grown men. But after a minute of my persistent frown and fidgeting hands the gun man gets frustrated and ties me up. Delighted how I shift my head away from him as he puts the tape over my mouth he grins and gives me a look like I’m something… I don’t know, like I’m some kind of thing that’ll get him what he wants. It makes me feel sick. 

So I sit there quietly and crawl into myself as the man by the window gives his update and the man with the gun smirks, “We’re gonna be rich!” I don’t know what he means, Chloe’s family hasn’t got that much money. 

I don’t get why they just stand around, what are they waiting for? Aren’t they going to search around for stuff? Like jewellery or something?

There is no distraction and I don’t have a chance to call the police or anyone for that matter, so I stay silent and let the men’s beady eyes sink into me.

After what feels like eternity and my friends have almost fainted from fright, the man with the checkered shirt by the window nods at the gun man and the leader smiles and walks slowly towards me. The way he looks at me makes me uncomfortable, the same way the other guy did, like I’m the money or something. I squirm where I sit and give a worried expression to Chloe. Her eyes dart from the man to me, me to the man and she looks like she’s sorry. Why though? Why does she look like she’s sorry? 

The leader checks his watch, they must have been waiting for a specific time. Finally, he speaks, his voice is raspy and deep, his chin pokes out underneath his mask when he opens his mouth and I see bristle standing upright on it, “Come.”

My pulse quickens, what?

What’s happening? Please can someone explain? 

Chloe?

I try to say her name but the tape muffles it and instead the word comes out half sound and half gasp, I look at her but she turns away and my friends give me sympathetic glances. 

I’m getting scared now, I don’t understand what’s going on. I scream into the tape and kick around, the man won’t let go of me, he carries me down the hall way, the men follow.

Chloe and the others untie themselves easily and get up. She gives me a little wave and I see she’s crying. Why?

***

Her screams are muffled and she kicks out in frustration as she’s carried away. It was a choice and I picked this one. I saved lots of people, I should be proud I saved all my friends. No. Not all. I didn’t save her. How could I? How could I do this? Why? Why did I pick our lives over hers? My life over hers? 

She was always there for me and I knew she’d come running if I needed help. I could’ve called the police but those men also could’ve shot me. That’s why I was scared earlier when she came over. I don’t want to die. I don’t. She needs to understand that. And now she will. I’m sorry.

I untie myself with ease, the ropes were just for show, the smashed phone and tape as well, the others copy me. But I keep the tape on, I don’t want to have to speak, so I get up and wave her goodbye, unexpected tears fall down my cheeks. 

I won’t see you again, I tell her through my eyes and I turn to see the man with the gun who says, “It was nice doing business with you,” but he doesn’t shake my hand or smile. He just looks at me and then at my friends and finally at her. What does he mean through that expression. What? Does he think it’s wrong I sold out my friend? Doesn’t he understand that it was him and those other guys who gave me two choices? What, does he expect me to act the hero and try to save us all? Well he should know I’m not a hero and I’ll do anything to save myself from the corporation chasing my family, when I’m older they’re going down and I’ll be in charge, I’ll be in charge of the corporation and save my parents. I’ll sell out my friend; like I did her, even all my friends, just as long as I’m alive.