Becky Johnson is a Stupid Jerkface

It was obvious that no one could hear the girl, or if they could, they had no interest in rescuing her. Her voice was hoarse from screaming. She was terribly, horribly, and irrevocably doomed. Worst of all, she had a date with the too dreamy for words Nick Panagopolous tonight that she was going to miss because she was trapped in a crappy dungeon and left there to die. Nick would probably go out with Becky Johnson instead (that two-faced bitch!) and the two of them would be prom king and queen and totally get married and have lots of stupid children.

She couldn’t believe that this was happening to her. Why couldn’t Becky Johnson have been grabbed off the street, blindfolded, driven across town, and dumped in some crappy basement where some maniac was going to cut her up and serve her to his psycho friends for breakfast instead?

Gods, this dungeon was some sort maze of something. She’d been walking for what seemed like hours now, and she could swear she had walked by the very spot she was in five times.

She turned around to try and retrace her steps but the space behind her was a dead end. That’s weird, she thought. I could have sworn I came from that way. I must really be turned around. At the other end of the dimly lit hallway were doors to the right and the left.

I think I took the right door last time, and it somehow brought me right back here, she thought. That didn’t make any sense but it was totes what happened, so this time she chose the door to the left.

The girl probably should have been scared. And she had been, at first. Still blindfolded, she’d been roughly tossed into the basement and heard the door slam shut and lock behind her. Yet when she pulled off the blindfold, there was no door to be seen – just a long hallway in front of her. Sure, she’d been scared. She screamed for a solid fifteen minutes; she was in show choir and on the track and swim teams at school and so she obvi had the lung capacity.

The fear had since worn off and made way for anger, and worse: boredom. She had so many other places to be right now, mostly making out with Nick Panagopolous. The basement was not even that scary – it was more, well, crappy. The décor sucked. There was no natural light and the overhead fluorescents did nothing for her complexion. Couldn’t she have at least been kidnapped by a serial killer with a sense of style?

She went through the door on the left and found herself in yet another crappy hallway. At first glance, it seemed identical to the hallway she had just left. Then she noticed an ever so slight difference. This hallway had a different smell. It was a familiar scent, but she couldn’t quite place it. Taking a few tentative steps closer, she noticed the scent grow in strength. Upon closer examination, the scent smelled downright meaty, and it seemed to be coming from the lone door at the end of the hallway.

Doomed or not, the girl still had the sense to put her ear against the door and see if she could hear anything before barging into the next room. She bit her lower lip in indecision and considered her next move. Turning around, she saw that once again her entrance to this section of the basement had seemingly disappeared. The door in front of her was her only option.

She took a deep breath and turned the knob. There was not a hallway on the other side of the door. It was a room, a kitchen to be exact. It was cramped, with a small table, and several ancient appliances. There were several crude crayon drawings held to the refrigerator door with brightly colored magnets; all were pictures of cows: black and white cows, brown cows, even one green and purple striped cow, with a polka-dotted udder.

Sitting on top of the oven was a freshly baked meatloaf. The smell was overpowering. Her stomach groaned; it was a loud mooing sound. If she was going to die, she might as well die full, she thought. She poked the meatloaf with an index finger; it was still hot. She picked up a knife and sliced deeply into the entrée. Her stomach mooed once more, this time louder than she’d ever heard. Relax, she thought, I’m working on it. Using the knife, she dug out a big hunk of meatloaf and gingerly raised it to her mouth.

There was a roar and the girl felt a sharp pain in her midsection of the like that she’d never felt before. The meatloaf dropped from her hand as she looked down at her stomach. Blood was quickly soaking her shirt and something large, dark, and sharp had pierced her deeply, protruding several inches out of her.

Well, this totally sucks, she thought as she quickly drifted out of consciousness and let the cold hand of death embrace her.