Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

It’s almost midnight and I'm back at my usual spot in the living room. For some reason, the atmosphere here makes me think better or not sleep off in seconds. The difference between this night and the others is that instead of working on my new book, I’m searching for a dead labour union leader. Strange enough, no news outlet carried it, not even blogs or YouTube channels. It could be two things; the news is false or someone stopped it from circulating.The front door closes and I quickly close the tab and open a blank page which is meant to have the new chapter I should be working on. Aaron walks in, gives me a side glance before heading upstairs. I let out a shaky breath and focus on my laptop. The lights in the living room may be dim but the colour red on a white shirt is too pronounced to go undetected. I try to convince myself it is paint but after being on the other side of his gun, I knew it was blood.Almost an hour later, I manage to write half a page but I’m not so proud of

The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon fills the air as I sit beside Drew at the breakfast table. We sit in silence for a while as we eat... more like he eats. For someone who claims he isn’t hungry, he is already halfway through his plate, a mountain of scrambled eggs disappearing at an alarming rate. I poke mindlessly at my toast, the butter congealing in little pools."What are you planning on doing today, Mia?" Drew asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.I shrug. "Probably just work on my book. I'm trying to get started on this chapter."His eyebrows rise. "Oh yeah, you write books. Can I read it sometime?"I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. "Not yet. It's still... a work in progress."The truth is, it's terrible. I'm pretty sure I'll never let any eye see whatever trash I’m writing.Just then, Drew's phone rings. He glances at the caller ID, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face, before he stands up."Gotta take this," he mumbles, and disappears out of the dining

The fluorescent lights of the office didn’t seem like an asylum light to me anymore. I am already getting used to it. I wonder if this is how 9-5 jobs become normalized. Mr Wilson and I finally found a balanced ground to work. After the whole buzz last time, we began to work on actual real articles. Mr. Wilson is behind his desk, his face a mask of concentration as he proofreads the latest article about embezzlement. I’m doing the same, highlighting typos and grammatical errors with practiced ease. This is the type of article that keeps Me Wilson going. The type of news that keeps him glued to his laptop and thankfully, it makes him busy and less of a douchebag.Then, the 'ping' of a new notification slices through the air. Wilson glances at his laptop, his brow furrowing. Another ping. And another. My own laptop lights up with the same insistent alert."What in the hell...?" Wilson mutters, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He clicks on the notification, his face slowly turnin

MIATonight, the living room is a no-go area for me. My usual writing spot will have to be vacant tonight because I can’t afford to cross paths with Aaron.Not tonight.I tell myself I shouldn’t feel guilty for telling him to go to hell. He deserved it. His words were hurtful even though they were true to some extent, they were still hurtful.I force myself to focus on my laptop screen, the half-finished chapter of my book mocking me. The longer I stare at the chapter the more I want to highlight everything and delete. What monstrosity.A notification pops up on my phone, pulling me from my writer's block and attempting to murder my chapter. It’s an Instagram message from a user named Natalie. I hesitate for a moment. Drew's warnings about meeting strangers echo in my head. But the need for a distraction, a breath of fresh air in this tense atmosphere, wins out. I tap open the message.“Hey! I love your aesthetic. Your page is so dreamy!” Natalie’s message reads.My face deepens in c

MIAI slowly walk to the bus station. My head filled with thoughts. What if I’m on the wrong side of this whole thing? Why did I conclude that Aaron is innocent? Because he didn’t kill me immediately?“Hey!” Someone calls and I turn to see it’s the woman from the Labour union. She smiles at me warmly before giving me a paper. “It’s Larry’s address. In case you want any information, his wife is willing to assist. No reporter has ever asked about his death. Promise me you’ll let the world know the truth.” Let the world know the truth at the cost of my life… how do I tell her that I can’t afford to say anything for now?I smile at her and take the paper. “I promise.”My loud mouth ends up saying before I can consider my choices. Maybe I can find my way around it and jet the news out but not through Laser or Aaron will have my head.I’m playing a dangerous game at this point but my conscience keeps nagging me. My phone rings and I jump. It’s Drew.Shit.I knew itHe’s probably watching m