Branded a Liar

The wind howled through the abandoned high-rise, cutting across my face like a thousand tiny knives.

I stood barefoot on a concrete ledge. Sharp gravel dug into my feet until my soles bled, sending waves of stinging pain through me. However, I didn't dare move.

The terrible kidnapper stood behind me and had a fistful of my hair in her grip. Whenever I flinched, it felt like my scalp would be ripped right off.

I was terrified. I wanted to go home. I didn't care that the only place that belonged to me was the stairwell, and that it was dark because at least the wind wasn't this cruel.

My kidnapper dialed Dad's number. I stared at the phone screen, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of my chest.

Would Dad save me? I hadn't run away. This awful woman had taken me.

The call connected. The woman pinched me hard, causing me to cry out in pain, "Dad! Please save me! I'm scared…"

I thought Dad would react the way fathers did on TV. I thought he'd call my name in a panic and tell me not to be afraid.

Instead, his voice was cold when it came through the phone. It was cold enough to freeze me despite the howling winds beating at my face. "Caleb, what kind of stunt are you pulling this time?"

His voice dripped with disgust. "You're even pretending to be kidnapped now? Rylan wanted a game console, so he earned it by getting perfect scores. And you? You're so pathetic that all you know how to do is lie and beg for money."

"No, Dad…" I sobbed so hard I could barely breathe. Tears and snot covered my face. "I'm not lying… It's so high up here… I'm scared…"

'Dad, I'm not lying. If you don't give her the money, I'm going to die.' I thought to myself in fear.

The woman lost her patience and shouted into the phone, "Enough talking! Five million! Pay up, or I'll shove your son off this building!"

There was silence on the other end of the line. I held my breath, tears filling my eyes as I waited. Dad had to be frightened. He had to be figuring out how to save me.

To my dismay, he laughed.

"Go right ahead," he said casually. "Push him. Let him die. It'll save me the embarrassment. A kid who lies every time he opens his mouth isn't someone the Smyth family can afford to keep."

The line went dead.

The woman flew into a rage. She cursed and slammed both hands into my back. "Nobody wants you anyway. Go to hell!"

The instant my feet left the ledge, I reached out wildly, trying to grab onto anything.

I wanted to grab Dad's hand. When I was little, I'd have nightmares about falling off a cliff. At the time, Dad would scoop me into his arms and whisper, "It's okay. Daddy's here."

But now, the only thing that came for me was the wind.

As I plummeted toward the ground, I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into the smallest ball I could.

'Dad, I'm sorry. I think I'm really going to die this time. If I die looking this awful, will you hate me even more?'