Summary: Alice Brandon is at the party of the year when a mysterious stranger turns up, claiming that he has a message for her. He kidnaps her and takes her on a life-threatening adventure that changes her view of life and people forever, but will Alice get out alive? When the gun is put to her head, who will she choose? Who can she choose, as it is now impossible to tell who's a friend and who's a foe? Who took her in the first place, and who's trying to save her? Who are they up against? How long will this last before things go too far? A story full of unlikely twists and heart-pumping action, but will it have a happy ending? Can it?

A/N: Hi people! Welcome back and thanks to all of the people who have come back after my other story, The Pieces of My Life, and to everyone else, I'm glad that you're here!


Please read, enjoy, and review, as I'm a bit unsure about this story... And if anyone has any good songs to go along with this story, please mention them to me cuz I would like to have a song for each chapter.

This chapter's song is No Rain by Blind Melon. It doesn't have much to do with the chapter, but I couldn't find one that did.

"Hey Alice! Ya wanna dance with me?"

Eric Yorkie's enthusiastic face came into focus. How he had gotten invited to this party, I did not know, but I for one would never even think of touching one of his kind-his class.

I did anything a girl like me would; I flipped him off and walked away with a disgusted look on my face.

I worked my way over to where people of my sort were dancing.

"Hey, Alice!" Mike Newton's snotty voice was recognized before I could gain focus on his childish face. Though he didn't look like much, Mike was one of the wealthiest kids at our school here in NYC. That was what bought his popularity. The cash. This was his party.

Mike was also my boyfriend.

"Hii Mickkk," I slurred. Then I cursed internally.. I was definitely slightly drunk.

Mike had noticed, too.

"You alright there, pixie?"

I had a certain name for him in my mind when he called me that, but I wouldn't dare say it to his face.

"Yeah, just... just need some water and to sit down for a while."

Mike looked around, over all of the heads that were dancing closely around us, until he spotted someone.

"Yo! Yorkie! Get me some water asap!" he called. Then he lowered his voice and whispered to me, "That's why he's here-he's the water boy." He winked at me and I laughed.

"Here ya go!" Yorkie's voice was once again registered before him.

Mike snatched the water from him and then grabbed my arm, leading me to a sofa.

Some teenagers were already on there in their own little world with one another, but Mike pushed them off.

At first they looked up, about to begin a fistfight with whoever shoved them, but they saw Mike and quickly hurried off.

Mike turned to me and handed me the ice-cold bottle of water.

I gratefully took it and gulped some down.

"So Alice, I was wondering if you'd like to come to a concert with me Friday. I've already got great tickets and all."

I so saw this coming. Literally. The vision came to me this morning while I was choosing what I would wear tonight. Very few people knew I had visions. My parents and sister were some of them, then there was my ex, Tyler, who had seen me space one too many times and had wanted an answer. He had sworn not to tell anyone, but in my world, that could've met that you planned to spill the moment you were away from the person. The visions were extremely random.

And so I had planned the reaction that would, in the end, benefit me the most.

"Oh, Mike! That would be wonderful! Thank you!"

Mike just grinned that childish grin of his.

"Great, so I'll just pick you up around six thirty?"

"That'd be great!"

I didn't say that he had failed to mention whose concert we would be going to, but I didn't press it. I'd probably see something about it in the next week.

We talked for about half an hour; I sipped on water the whole time, and soon enough I felt better. Except I had to use the bathroom.

So when Mike finally left with some other friends of his, I was grateful.

I made my way to the bathroom and saw a mirror in the hallway. Though there was a mirror in the bathroom, I had to stop.

I looked at the perfect reflection that was shown in the mirror.

My long, wavy black hair was still perfectly pulled back. Not a hair out of place.

My bright green eyes were rimmed with the perfect amount of eye make-up.

My lips shimmered from the pink lipgloss.

The only thing I didn't like all too much about myself was that I was short. Only four foot eleven.

However, I was quite proud of my perfect figure that I knew others were jealous of.

I finished in the bathroom and then headed back to where the party was taking place, pausing to check myself in the mirror again.

Once I entered the loud room, I worked my way back through the crowd toward Mike and his buddies.

I was almost there when something odd happened.

The chatter grew softer, though the music continued to pound in my ears, and the quiet came from the side of the room with the entrance.

By instinct, I turned to see what had caused the slow of conversation.

He was very tall and he looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. His hairy was a tousled golden. His eyes were cold and grey; they held an almost sinister look deep within them. His clothes were dark colors.

His very presense held something about him, something that... intimidated everyone, me included.

I took him in in a matter of seconds before turning back around. By then the noise had returned to its normal level.

I had very nearly reached the group that Mike was included in, but I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I felt a flare of irritation being lit within me.

"What is it, Yorkie?!" I hissed through me teeth, turning on the spot.

When I saw who it was, I froze. I could feel my own eyes widen a bit.

"S-sorry," I stuttered. It was the guy from before. I didn't know whether to call him a boy or a man, but something about him steered me more toward 'man.'

He didn't press the matter. He remained indifferent.

"I was told by someone over there that you are Mary Alice Brandon," he said without emotion.

Normally I would correct him and say, "Oh, no, just Alice," but I didn't. Instead I just nodded and gave a "Mmhmm."

"Could I speak with you alone for a moment?" he asked.

I hesitated.


"I have a message to pass on to you. From someone who claimed to be your relative. I'm not sure if you want it to be overheard or not, but you probably don't."

So I nodded, and he motioned with his head toward the hall that led to the stairway.

I followed him into the hall and was surprised to see that he continued up the stairs. I kept going after him, wondering who he was. His hair color was like Mike's, and I could vaguely remember Mike mentioning an older brother. This must be him. It would explain going upstairs without permission.

Once we were upstairs, he veered into one of the rooms after checking to make sure no one was in there.

I walked to the doorway but stopped there.

This room must be his; it looked as though it belonged to a teenage boy. Smelled like it, too.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

Should I go in after him? I thought of all the ways that this could be unsafe. I was still slightly under the affects of the alcohol that I had consumed earlier, even if it was mostly gone.

He just waited, seeming to detect my hesitence.

"Or we could talk in the hallway," he said, once again, without emotion.

Without waiting for an answer, he rather roughly strode past me, making me back into the doorframe and fall onto the carpet.

I felt a flicker of irritation again as I rolled onto my back to get up.

Before I could stand, though, his hand was outstretched for me to take.

I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up, but then did something unexpected.

He twisted me so that my back was against his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around me. Almost too tightly.

I gasped, and he quickly placed a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet.

It all happened so fast that by the time I had begun to fight his grip, he had dragged me through a room and next to a window, which he quickly opened.

I began to kick and squirm and scream into his hand; however, it didn't seem to do any good.

The guy holding me suddenly pulled a small bag out of his coat.

What's happening? Why is he doing this? What's he going to do to me?

I was beginning to panic.

I was then forced onto the floor where I was pinned down with one hand as his other dug through the bag. My mouth was pressed into the carper.

I couldn't see what he pulled out, but he yanked my head up by the chin and put some cloth in my mouth to gag me.

My feet were then tied together at the ankles tightly, and next my hands behind my back.

Once that was finished, he picked me back up and dragged me over to where the window was.

My head was forced out and I glanced down.

There were bushes directly below us, but no ladder. I had already guessed the part of the plan where he gets me out through the window.

Without warning, I was picked up and lowered out the window by a grip around my upper arms. This rather hurt because they were tied together behind my back, and groaned in pain, but it was muffled.

Then, the grip was gone and I had spun a bit, making me land awkwardly.

I landed on my back in the bush but then rolled out onto my chest in the grass, bumping my chin hard.

My ankle hurt. It wasn't broken, just sprained a bit. I knew that it was nothing extreme-I didn't feel the need to cry, anyway-but I also knew that it was going to hurt for a while. My chin would be bruised, too.

But right now I wasn't worried about either of those things.

Instead I was worried about the fact that I was gasping for air through me nose, but it seemed that none would come.

I heard a dull thud next to me and turned my head to see a pair of muddy army boots next to me.

When I could breathe alright, he yanked me back up and started shoving me back toward the fence that separated Mike's house from the neighbour's.

I was thrown over that, too, but this time I landed on my feet, only to fall to my knees and then my chest when my legs couldn't move.

The guy jumped the fence and pushed me on past the dark house; no one was home.

This time I fought against him. I tried to scream and to run back, or even to a side, anywhere to get away from him. Each time, he only made his grip on me tighter until I could feel his nails cutting into me and little drops of crimson blood rising to the surface of my now not-so-perfect skin.

He was leading me toward a sleek, black car. The windows were so tinted that I couldn't even see in.

I couldn't believe that I was actually being taken, kidnapped.

Tears began to pool in my eyes and they soon began to fall off of my cheeks, some of them mixing with the blood on my arms.

I pushed and pulled, I even fell to the ground on purpose once in attempt to make him let go, something that I would have never done if this weren't the situation, but nothing I did would stop him. It didn't help that both my arms and legs were tied up and that every time I fought his grip more blood dripped down my arm in fine lines.

I couldn't believe that no one was out here to see this-to help me. That none of the lights were on in any windows all up and down the street but Mike's, which was now the street behind us since we had jumped, or in my case, been tossed, over the fence.

But then again, who would be awake around two in the morning? Only crazy high school kids and the occasional kidnapper.

When he had finally gotten me to the car, I half expected to be thrown in the trunk.

Instead he opened the door to the backseat and I was roughly shoved in.

Because my I couldn't maneuver correctly, I was just able to jerk around. That itself hurt.

He shut the door after I was in, and I continued to struggle even as I heard the driver's door open and saw him get in through the tears that were still streaming down my face, making my make-up smear across my cheeks and some onto the car's seat.

His door shut and I heard the locks click, telling me that I was now trapped until I could free my hands. Of course I had already been stuck before, but this fact still made me feel worse and more hopeless.

I began to sob as I jerked and the car started and began to move swiftly and quickly.

After about five more minutes I gave up fighting and jerking; I just sobbed into the seat.

At the pace the car was moving at, we must already be far far away from Mike's house, where the party must still be continuing without me. Away from my parents house, for I could feel that we were traveling in the opposite direction.

How could I have not seen this? Not even one little vision that would have warned me?!

Then I remembered the vision from two days ago. The one that was filled with crimson.

I could feel his eyes on me as I cried, hard and stone-set; ice-cold, piercing into me and bringing about another round of hopeless sobs.

I cried.

A/N: Please review!