I sat in class, the clock slowly ticking away as I doodled the Winter Solider. The teacher was rambling about history, blah, blah, blah, war, blah, blah, blah.
Class was taking FOREVER! I finished drawing hearts around my picture, when suddenly, my teacher swiped my paper from my hands. She quizzically looked at it and showed it to the class.
I groaned inward. This day could not get any worse, oh wait, of course it can, that’s my life! People laughed at me and started whispering. I just had to have an obsession with superheroes.
My face was red with embarrassment. Then someone barged into the classroom holding a semi-automatic rifle, and let’s just say it was beautiful.
The people in my class screamed and ran to a corner of the room. “You.” The man said. I looked behind me. He must be talking about Casey.
Bye Casey! Then everyone in the class shoved me toward him. “Take her! Just don’t kill us!” They said. I looked at my classmates as the guy grabbed me. I have a wonderful class.
I hope this guy brought friends because my class needs to be punished. “Don’t worry,” He whispered. “You’re safe with me.” Ha, man this guy is dumb. Of course I’m safe with a killer.
I think this guy meant safe in heaven once he kills me. He dragged me down the hall, and I decided to take those moments to think about my life.
I thought about my days in prison, the long hours of sitting in a desk, horrible teachers destroying my brain, and my obnoxious cell mates.
I will die with everyone knowing about my crazy obsession with superheroes. “GET IN THE CAR!” He screamed. “I told you five times!” I looked at his face for the first time.
“YOU ARE FREAKING GORGEOUS!” I say with too much excitement. He stared at me and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you just get in the car please?” “Sure thing Mr. Gorgeous.
” I said getting in the car. He got in the driver’s side and tossed the gun on my lap. “Please use this responsibly.” “Uh, you’re talking to me.” I asked.
“Who else would I be talking to?” He growled. “Alright, sorry grumpy pants. I’m the one getting kidnapped here.” I said as a bullet whizzed past my face, cracking the window.
The guy cursed and pressed harder on the gas. I heard bullets hitting the car. He groaned, took out his pistol, and fired away. After a few shots, he sat back down and continued driving.
“Do you have a driver’s license?” I asked. He tossed me his wallet and I opened it. I looked at it and gasped. “You’re Bucky?” I screamed like a fan girl.
”Technically, I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but yes, I’m Bucky.” He said swerving chaotically.