Also, there will be romance later, which is why I posted it in this forum. Patience, my child...you must learn patience...(there are rewards for it! And there will be.)
Also (sorry), does anyone have any better names than Will?
And (last time, I promise), I'LL EXPLAIN THEIR PREDICAMENT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. PLEASE DON'T NAIL ME FOR THAT NOW. DO IT LATER
"Get down there!" the guard ordered.
"No! Please!" sobbed a girl. The guard ignored her, and twisted her arm behind her as he dragged her down the stairs. Still keeping a hairy arm locked about the sobbing, struggling girl, he unlocked a door, and shoved her through. She stumbled, falling to lay across the threshold of the cell.
"Please!" she gasped out a final time.
The guard snarled, and kicked out twice with his boot. The first blow hit her lightly in the stomach as she recoiled. She gasped as the air went out of her lungs. The second blow caught her more off guard, landing with much more speed and pain than the previous blow on her chest, which, needless to say, was a bad spot to get kicked in by a fully grown, hulk-esque man. She moaned, rolling back as she pressed her hands onto the throbbing spot, and the guard slammed and locked the door.
After a few minutes of lying on the dirty floor, she sat up, looking about her as she wiped the tears from her eyes with her tattered shirt. She squinted, trying to see in the dark room with the faint light that came through the tiny window at the top of the wall. But there was nothing. Feeling a strong wave of fright and terror come over her again, she crept back against a wall, putting her head in her knees. However, she only been sitting there for about two minutes before a voice sounded, cracked from not being used.
"Hello."
The girl's head snapped up, and she pulled herself into a tight position, squatting on her heels, ready to dodge a blow--for although she wasn't much use against a huge, bulky guard, she was trained and skilled in self-defense otherwise. There was a slightly amused, quiet laugh.
"Please don't be afraid of me. You're the first company I've had in such a long time that I'd much rather be friends than enemies."
Trembling slightly, the girl spoke. "Who are you?"
The voice came again from the corner. "A young man who has been trapped in here for far too long, in my opinion. And you?" The girl froze. The dry humor, the soft but calming laugh--but it couldn't be! The odds were far too small...yet he had been trapped in here for a long while, he said. What if...?
The young man cleared his throat.
Aware that she had ignored his question, the girl hastily took a chance, and blurted,
"Renee!"
There was silence from the corner. Then she heard him suck in a ragged breath.
"Renee?" he whispered hoarsely. "It can't be. Come here." The girl hesitantly scooted forward on the floor to where the voice came from. She saw a figure move towards her in the dim light. then, a hand gently traced over her face. It ran itself through her hair, touched her arm, and picked up her hand. He caressed her dirty hand in his.
"It can't be--Renee Harrington? My best friend from first grade to eighth? The one who was captured by those perverted foreign gangs who came to town during the summer before our first year in high school, and disappeared out of my life for three and a half years? Until now..." He added in a whisper. "Please tell me. Are you Renee Elizabeth Harrington? The girl who was the object of my best guy friend Phil's affections until he admitted it to me and I beat him up? The girl who taught me how to play Dance Dance Revolution like a pro?" This last was said with another soft laugh. Renee swallowed. Her throat was dry.
"That would be me."
Two strong arms were around her in a flash, enclosing her in a bear hug. They pulled her to him as he fell back against the wall. She squealed as his fingers dug into her side, tickling the secret spot that only he knew about. Laughing, the two of them wrestled to and fro until they were too exhausted to move. They lay side by side on the floor, panting, and occasionally letting out a laugh or two.
"So, William Justin Holmes," Renee said at last, rolling over onto her side. "How did you get here?"
She heard him yawn.
"Well, it was about a year after you disappeared that the gangs came back. They took me and a couple other guys. They wanted us to join the gang. We said no, of course, and so they beat us within an inch of our lives, and sent us to separate hold-dungeon-things. I've been here for about two years now."
"Oh, Will, I'm sorry," whispered Renee. "That's awful. And they must of taken Phil too, and separated the two of you. That's horrible."
Strangely, as she said the words, she could see his outline tense up, and he curled into a ball.
"Will?" said Renee in surprise. "What's wrong?"
He was silent for a moment, and then he took a ragged breath.
"Ella"--here Renee smiled at his nickname for her--"you know how I said they beat us within an inch of our lives?" Renee nodded, and then remembered that he couldn't see her and replied, "Yeah?"
He sucked in another breath. "Well, Phil didn't have an inch to give." He voice broke off, and he rolled over, facing the wall. Renee was shocked into silence as she realized what he meant. Then, in the darkness, she saw his form shaking.
"Oh, Will," she whispered.
You're talking about how they're in some kind of jail, and it feels like a meadevil (spl srry!) jail, but then you talk about how she taugh him DDR. You can either clear this up with imagrey, or let the reader know exactly where you are.
