"The panic button alarm is an amusing sound," my mother was squaking on the other end of the line. "If you like nails on a chalk board." She continued. "If you like to eat stringy cheese." My mother hated that stuff. I never bothered to find out why. "Like that kidnapper that kidnapped those three kids, he must think that that the panic button alarm is an amusing sound." Honestly I wouldn't know. I don't even know what sound she was refering to. That and I had only kidnapped 1. I don't know who kidnapped the other two, but it ain't me.
"Yes, he must, Ma. I have to go to work now." I told my mother, then hung up the phone without waiting for her to answer me. I turned it off and ripped the battery out. That way, they couldn't trace the residual signal. I might've been a hick, but I ain't stupid, or nothing like that. I turned to the sack before me. The kid inside it was whimpering and wriggling around. I hated that kid.
I turned my attention to the crates. On top of it sat my laptop, open. I made sure that the correct audio files were opened then I called the kid's parents.
July 3, 2008
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