chap8

In the morning, we were woken up by the sound of the door banging open. It was Cheryl, coming to get us for breakfast. We looked at each other, got up, and followed her into the diningroom. Greg wasn't there. Cheryl told us he'd gone over to Mike's. "Apparently you have some friends over there that you're going to see at lunchtime," she said. I looked at Taylor. "He'll be back soon, then I'm going to work. Cheryl explained. Taylor and I didn't like the sound of being alone in the house with Greg for the day, but we didn't exactly have a choice. We finished breakfast, then we were aloud to watch TV in the loungeroom. Finally, we agreed on a show. Cheryl began to get ready for work. Greg arrived home a while after. When Cheryl went to meet him at the door, (as she was going to work), we turned the TV off and waited for him.

Soon, we heard Cheryl leaving. Greg came into the loungeroom and saw us. "You know I don't like to see you like this," he said, pretending to be diassapointed. He took us into the diningroom, made us sit down on the chairs, and tied our wrists to the arms of them. Then he left us there. "I suppose you're getting sick of this, huh?" Taylor asked. "I'm just getting sick of having rope around my wrists," I replied. Just before midday, Greg came back to us. He untied our wrists from the chairs, and tied them together. Then he took us out to his car again, and shoved us in the back. Soon, we were on our way to Mike's. When we got there, Greg got us out of the car, took us inside, untied our wrists, and put us in the room we were in before. Inside, were Zac and Amy. We said 'hi' to each other, then went straight into what it was like living with Greg and Mike. "We're just locked in a room for most of the day," Amy said. "I thought you would have been tortured or something, living with Greg," Zac said. "His wife won't let him," I said. Zac and Amy looked surprised. "She doesn't know what's really happening," Taylor explained. "Mike's wife is definately in on it," Amy said. "She's like, the 'Babysitter From Hell'," Zac said. "Have you seen Isaac yet?" Taylor asked. Amy shook her head. "They won't let us," Zac said. The door unlocked and Grge came in. "Time to go," he said. Taylor and I said goodbye, and we were soon on our way back to Greg's house.

When we got there, Greg locked us in the room again. "Oh my god," I said. "What?" Taylor asked. "Look! No rope!" I waved my hands in his face. He smiled. A couple of hours later, we heard Cheryl come back. We didn't see her until dinner time though. Greg came to get us again. At dinner, we found out that Greg had told Cheryl we were cousins from pretty far away, and had a habit of running away. We didn't say anything to this, but realized that Greg used it as an excuse to lock us in at night, and for keeping the doors and windows locked in the house. After dinner, Greg took us back to the room, and came in with us, closing the door behind him. He went over to the head of the bed and attached something to it. "Just to make sure you can't get into any trouble," he said. I looked at Taylor. "As if we could get in any more," he said. I could see he was trying to get a look at whatever Greg had put on the bed. "Come here," Greg suddenly said to both of us. Taylor looked at me. We went over to him, it's not like we had much choice. He grabbed Taylor's right wrist, and my left, and put them together where he'd put the 'thing' on the bed. Then he bolted a three-inch wide metal bar around our wrists, and padlocked it on the other side. Then he walked around to the foot of the bed, and pulled out some rope. Then he tied Taylor's right ankle, and my left, to the end of the bed. "Goodnight," he said, then locked the door on his way out.

"More like 'hell night'," I said. Taylor was fiddling around with the padlock. He stopped a while after. I noticed that Greg had left the window open, and shiverred. "What?" Taylor asked. "He left the window open," I rpelied. "So?" he asked. "This is Greg's house, I don't feel safe with the window open," I replied. "How could you feel safe here anyway?" he asked. "Good point," I said. A couple of hours later, when we were about to fall asleep, we heard something from the window. From the light of the moon, all we could see, was something hanging over the window sill. We sat up, or tried to. The thing hanging over the window sill dropped to the ground. It started to move towards the bed. "Keep still," Taylor warned, as it began up the side of the bed. When it came over the top, I realized what it was... a snake! Taylor was pushing the bar upwards, obviously trying to get it off te bed. But then he froze. The snake was crawling over his left ankle! He kept his eye on it. I was too scared not to look. As soon as the snake began down the other side of the bed, he began pushing the bar up again. Somehow, he managed to get it off the bed. Slowly, we leant forward and untied our ankles. The snake was slowly movig around to my side of the bed, on the floor.

We stood up on Taylor's side of the bed. Taylor broke something off the bed, and used it to unlock our wrists. Then we accidentally dropped it! It landed on the floor with a loud clang. Our heads snapped up to the door. The snake was startled too, and slithered under the bed. The hallway light turned on. We rushed to the window, and Taylor began to climb out. The door unlocked as he jumped out. Greg came in the door. As soon as he saw we were making a getaway, he came over and grabbed my arms. Meanwhile, the snake was getting frightened with all the commotion, and felt it needed to bite something. It soon found something to dig its fangs into. Greg yelled at the pain in his ankle, and let me go, trying to shake the snake off. Quickly, I jumped out the window, and joined Taylor in running down the street. Greg was in the car and after us in no time.

We came to a tin gate, and climbed over it into a backyard. When we turned around, we saw about six policemen sitting on chairs and things. Then we'd realized that we'd just jumped into a police station's backyard. That was good and bad. Good, because it's where we'd wanted to be for the past six months, and, bad, because we now had to give a very good explanation for jumping over the gate. Soon, we were sitting in an office at the back of the police station, sort of arguing with a policeman. We'd told them the story, but they didn't believe who Taylor was.