Extraordinary Losers 3 by Jessica Alejandro

CHAPTER 1: CAPTIVE IN THE DARK
    He-he-he-llo-llo? An-an-an-any-one there? No?” the boy asked, shivering. He was about to pee in fear. It was his first question after an hour of silence. He was sure it had been one hour, since he had counted every second since it happened.
    The boy had long eyelashes and deep-set eyes but these did not help him in any way here. He could not make out where he was. The smelly cloth around his eyes was wrapped so tightly that his curly hair got entangled in the painful dead knot at the back. It was pitch dark. And very dusty. He could tell from the way his shins were beginning to itch.
    Then he heard footsteps. Footsteps that shuffled across the dust-laden floor. But whose were they? He wished he had Darryl’s powerful ears! At least they would prove to be more helpful than a brain full of equations, numbers and nothing more. The footsteps grew louder and he heard the jangling of keys. It sounded as though someone was playing an instrument. Mi fa so. Mi fa so. Mi fa so . The keys sang with every step. Then a loud snort, and another. Sinus problem, he deduced.
    Should I speak again? he wondered. He was a painfully shy boy. A stutterer who hardly spoke to any teachers. He swallowed his voice in a huge gulp. Just then, the door creaked open. He jerked forward in his seat. But there was no way he could escape. How could he, when his hands and legs were tied up with prickly ropes.
    A voice grunted as someone slammed a cold metal plate on the boy’s lap. It felt heavy.
    The boy bent low enough so that he could smell the contents of his plate. It was the best smell he had experienced in the last few hours. It smelled so good that he bowed even lower and scooped a morsel with his mouth. He had not eaten anything since breakfast at 6 am and he was starving. It was a taste of home, except colder. Cold rice soaked in curry gravy swirled around in his mouth.
    â€œTh-th-th-th-thanks,” he spluttered. “Pl-Pl-Please.”
    Before he could finish his sentence, he heard the door slam shut. Then a loud snort. The footsteps and the jangling keys left as fast as they had arrived.
    â€œHe-he-he-llo?” he asked again. He knew the snorts and the footsteps did not belong to a good person, but at least they belonged to someone! Now he was all alone again. Alone in the darkness made darker by his blindfold. He bowed low again to eat his cold curry rice. But the second mouthful didn’t taste so good. He could only taste fear in his mouth.
    â€œDarryl, Janice, Clandestino? Mummy? Wh-Wh-Wh-Where are you?” he whispered. “I-I-I have been kidnapped. No?”
    Earlier…
    It was a cold morning and my eyelids were still plastered together. All the other students bumped me from sideways and behind and some of their elephantine bags even bumped me on my face!
    â€œOuch!” I went, opening my eyes to the 7:15 am sun. “Not another elephantine bag again!”
    The lower primary students always have school bags larger than they can handle! It’s like someone with a car licence driving a lorry instead and ending up crashing into the other cars. Seriously, to be hit in the face by a Power Rangers bag adorned with key chains and hazardous pin badges is no joke at all. After all, I am a Primary 5 boy and for my own sake, and the sake of others, my bag is light – much to my mother’s chagrin. All the other “unnecessary books” (and by this I mean all other books except homework) are stored safely under my desk in school.
    As I sleepwalked in my semi-conscious state, I noticed a curly-haired boy. Short and skinny and not moving with the herd of children stampeding into school. He was at the security guard post and something seemed to be keeping him.
    The other Brightstars continued to shove and push me forward, so much so that I didn’t really have to think. I was riding the “Brightstar drift” with Katy Perry blasting through my headphones, until