Detecting Falsehood

My eyes blink open again an unknown amount of time later, to the sound of someone muttering outside. I'm not in a car boot anymore, I'm relieved to see, but the change of location isn't as positive as I'd like. I can see now, as the makeshift blindfold is gone, but there isn't much to look at.

I'm still tied up, I quickly realise upon looking downward, but I've been moved into a dingy little cell that's so small I would be able to touch every wall if I stood up with my arms out and spun round in a circle. It's got plain concrete walls that smell faintly of damp, and there's no warmth to it at all. It's not somewhere to live.

It's somewhere to store the people you don't like.

I turn my head, looking around and trying to figure out what, if anything, can possibly interest me, only to see a small white camera in the top left corner, a red light blinking steadily, and a tiny black microphone. My eyes widen in surprise at the sight of it, then my brain catches up with my vision, and it makes sense.

Of course my captors want to watch my every movement. It would be the most sensible thing to do, if you didn't want the person you kidnapped to escape.

Even so, it's really creepy.

There's a small door on one wall, much to my relief (otherwise how would I have got in here?), that looks very similar to a prison door. Double or perhaps triple locked, made of iron, with nuts and bolts all around the perimeter. It's curved at the top, and there's no window or small grate as I was hoping. There's nothing that can give me any clue as to how to get out.

I look down at my lap again, swallowing down the rising lump in my throat, which has come with the knowledge that I'm trapped, and am probably going to die in this tiny cell. I'm cold, I'm hungry, I'm tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair with rope that will probably tear part of my skin off if I even try to move, and I'm scared.

I close my eyes, leaning back slightly and carefully, lifting my head to the ceiling as I contemplate life.

I could've done anything last night that would've stopped this from happening. If it even was last night. I could've stayed with Jin and Namjoon for the night, I could've fought harder against those random guys who came up to me, I could've gone another way and probably made it to the bus stop just in time to get the last bus home.

But I didn't, and now I'm stuck in a tiny room with no windows and no visible ventilation at all.

For a moment, my mind drifts to my family. Taewa, Taeseok, my parents, Taeyeon in her new temporary home, wherever she is. Are they okay? Have I caused them to be in danger as well?

My heart clenches at the thought of Taeyeon, who would probably be about twelve hours old by now. Would she even consider the idea that we never wanted to let her go? Will she ever know us? Will she ever know that her future adoptive parents aren't related to her?

I just hope they appreciate her as we would've done.

The wound left deep within me at the loss of my baby sister is still deep, still stinging, and I'm only faintly surprised when tears leak out of my eyes without asking permission, dripping down my face slowly and landing on my lap. I still wish there was more than I could've done to protect her, to keep her with us, but I know that arguing against that official would probably have got me into a whole heap of trouble.

My family may be one of the most protected in this country, but that doesn't give us any power over our own lives. It takes the power away, leaves us helpless to the will of the authorities. Which is stressful, I won't lie.

I wouldn't be surprised if my family was forced to move now that I've been captured, and I doubt that anyone will come looking for me. It's simply too dangerous, and it suggests to my kidnappers that more valuable individuals are out there who can also be caught. I don't want my own idiocy to hurt my family.