With my dad gone on a two day hunting trip with his buddies and my mom spending four weeks abroad, visiting her parents in Sweden, it appeared as though I was finally gonna have the place all to myself this weekend!
Our place wasn't huge, but the moderate sized suburban house was more than roomy enough to accomodate three of my friends for a weekend sleepover.
Being seventeen and not having a job sucked, but my parents were adamant about me focusing on my grades and not getting sidetracked by a part time job during my final year of highschool.
Still, with the monthly allowance they were giving me, I had nothing to complain about.
When I told my dad I'd be inviting Joshua, Matt and Kyle over, he even gave me an extra fifty bucks and got a pack of wine coolers and soft drinks for us to chug down during his absence.
Dad's orders were simple. No booze -aside from the wine coolers- no drugs, and no girls.
The last time I was left in charge, I'd invited a few too many friends over and things had gotten a little out of hand. I wasn't about to repeat that mistake again.
Besides, me and my buddies would probably spend all weekend gaming and watching Netflix and stuff.
To be fair, we were a bit of a nerdy bunch, so the thought of getting drunk and burning the place down wasn't all that appealing to us anyways.
And so, on Friday evening I was all too happy to see my dad pack his hunting gear and pull out of the driveway.
Don't get me wrong, he was a swell guy. But ever since my mom had left to visit her parents, dad was really slacking off on the laundry and stuff.
Every day, my mum would powder his work boots and toss his socks in the hamper. But now that she wasn't there to do that, my dad's socks were getting smellier and smellier and were being casually left all over the place.
Normally that wouldn't have been an issue.
I mean, most guys do tend to litter a bit and leave their socks and undies lying around. I know I do.
But my dad's socks weren't just normal socks.
His socks STANK! Like really REALLY STANK!
On top of having these giant size 14 feet and working a job that required him to wear heavy boots all the time, the forty-six year old man also had a very severe case of athlete's foot.
And now that my mum was away for a while, no one was here to powder his boots and pick up after him!
That alone made me long for her return next week.
Anyways, Friday night was a blast!
Josh, Matt and Kyle all made it on time and the four of us stayed up late playing video games and enjoying our junk food and soda pop.
By the time things started taking a turn for the worse, we were already doomed.
Somehow, three burly masked men had managed to break inside the house without us realising it, and appeared in the living room with guns aimed at our heads.
Even though it was four against three, not one of us dared to make a move against the armed intruders.
I was scared shitless, and so were my friends.
We were immediately ordered to lie down on the carpet floor with our legs spread wide and our hands on our heads. Our cell phones were confiscated and smashed to bits, right before our eyes.
Matt screamed when he saw what they'd done to his precious iPhone11, but one of the armed robbers pointed his gun at him and told him to "shut the fuck up."
That was the last bit of freedom we were about to get over the course of the next thirty-six hours.
Even as one of the guys started ransacking the place for jewelry and electronics, the other two leather-clad men got to work bundling us up.
From the equipement they'd brought, I got the feeling they weren't expecting to deal with four of us.
But a quick tour of our basement workshop allowed one of the guys to find my dad's rather extensive cache of sturdy cotton camping rope.
We were fucked and we knew it.
First, they zip tied our limbs together.
Hands behind our backs and ankles pressed together.
They weren't using some flimsy cable ties either. These were thick, police-grade riot cuffs; the type that our feeble wrists couldn't snap.
Then the rope followed.
And it wasn't just a bit of rope...
Between the rope that they'd brought in their duffle bags and the crazy amount of rope my dad kept downstairs, there was a LOT of it to go around.
Josh was the first to be restrained.
One of the armed robbers pointed his gun at us, while the other two busily scrambled over poor Josh, taking their time and roping him up real extra good and tight.
I'll admit, at first I thought my friend was being a bit of a pussy.
He was squirming and crying out like a fuckin' girl!
It's only when Matt, who was arguably the more masculine of my friends, broke down into a series of similar yelps that I understood just how cruel and unnecessarily strict our captors were being with their ropework.
They spent about ten minutes on Josh, and by the time they were done with him, the newly christened eighteen year old was hogtied so tight that his entire body was curled up into a backwards facing ball, with his heels resting back against his elbows.
A look of panic shot across Matt's face as he too was trussed up into what could only be described as the strictest and most excruciating of hogties. I could tell from their faces that both he and Josh were in agony, but I couldn't do or say anything to help them!
As the two burly captors finally turned their attention towards me, I looked over at Kyle and couldn't help but notice how his expression of terror mirrored my own.
I was next.
TO BE CONTINUED