The Farmhouse [fetishdj and nikkisweet, PM to take part]

[lucy]

Sitting in the chair, with a steaming mug of tea I regret having bad feelings about Nikki. She seems to be genuinely nice after all. Sipping the tea I look around, admiring the large living room. Now that's a decent place, not like my shabby apartment in downtown Detroit.
But then all that changes. The moment I see David's eyes go blank and his body keel over I realize we're all in trouble. I get up and try to run, but my legs are wobbly and I don't make it further than a couple of steps. Then the ground moves upwards towards me with surprising speed and the wood floor hits me smack on my head.

[MissConfused]

Jerry comes speeding down the road and damn near runs into my patrol car.
"Did you find where she was going?"
He tells me "somewhere in Ithaca was all that she said."
"Great" I curse as we are standing in the cold damp rain.
"Hop in the car and we'll drive down the road and see if we find them on the road walking. Have you called her cellphone to find out where she is?" "No" he replies and starts to dial her phone immediately.

No sign of her on the road. I tell Jerry we'll start looking first thing in the morning. In this rain and darkness we aren't going to find anything tonight.

[collared_kitten75]

I plop myslef down on a dark leather sofa. This Nikki chick really has it going on. I mean my dad has some money from all the businesses he owns, but he tends to be a little more mainstream in his decor. I mean, he has a man cave decorated in memorabilia from sports teams that he played for or wished he had played for. Certainly he would never hang some gigantic African cock and balls above the fireplace. I would be lying if I said the place did not make me a little uneasy.

I try the cellphone again. I grimace when I again fail to get a signal. "Fuck. This sucks," I grumble as I sip some of the tea the woman placed before me.

I am so sleepy, and the tea cerrtainly isn't helping things. I look across teh room from me. David has already passed out. I bet the man has no tolerance for alcohol. I probably have a higher tolerance than I should. What did dad say? Oh yeah, 'damn it Jenny, your alcohol tolerance is inversely proprtional to your grade point average.' I chuckle. Dad was always full of goofy sayings.

Suddenly there's movement. I catch it from the corner of my eye, but only barely. My lids are getting pretty heavy after all. It's Sara, she's running awkwardly for the door. Odd. Oh no, she just face planted. Crazy bitch. Oh well, I hope she feels better in the morning.

I drift off to sleep.