Snippet #1311347

Mackenzie sat alone on the park bench, mindlessly noodling her guitar. She had received about 40 texts from her mother, demanding that she return home, but she couldn't let the peaceful beauty of the night slip through her fingers. Checking the time, she realized that perhaps her mother did have a point, as it was already 11 PM. She stretched and stood, sliding her guitar to her back. As she ambled home, she started to fabricate an elaborate story to explain her lateness to her mother. In all honesty, she enjoyed these opportunities to improvise. It was one of her strong suits.
There was a heavy fog that shrouded the entire park, leaving Mac blind to the perils that laid in the silent street. When she finally exited through a gate, a black van filled her vision. Before she could run, or even scream, strong arms that seemed to sprout from nowhere pounced on her, dragging her into the back of the van with no regard to her protest. Once she had finally found the ability to scream, a sharp pain shot through her wrist, and the world faded to black. She had a dreamless and panicked sleep, and awoke slowly to find herself bound to a chair and surrounded by other teenagers.
"Huh....?" She yawned as her eyes adjusted, not fully able to comprehend what had happened in this half-asleep state. She blinked a few times before her brain caught up, and she thrashed against her restraints. As she came to the crushing realization that she couldn't break away, she slumped back into the chair.
"If you broke my guitar, I swear to God, I will break your face!" She cried, scanning the room in hopes of finding her instrument.