That very moment

He smiles, hands on the steering wheel, one foot on the gas pedal, propelling the car forward . And I,  tied to the seat, mouth stuffed and sealed, keep fixating my eyes on him. He drives on, hardly looking at me, humming snatches of songs, and suddenly, he has changed direction. The car makes an oblique rise, and then down it goes. Both of us jerk forward. The road curb's gone. Unsteadily we  are going down a slope, towards its end. I wriggle, trying to struggle free, but to no avail. I shout, but what comes out is only a muffled sound.

Hours before that, I had been doing my laundry. The bell rang, and I opened the door, shocked to see him outside. We had had a split, and I had thought time had washed away our pain. He lunged forward and pinned me down. After gagging me, he carried me down on his shoulder, oblivious to my struggling. In what-seemed -to-not-like his car, I was strapped onto the front seat with tape. He enjoyed the pleading look on my face, flicked my nose and said, "Dear, fancy a joy ride? Let's go!"