My best friend is a superhero, at least she thinks she is. It feels more like the whims of the wealthy than anything else, but there is no doubt her heart is in the right place. Unfortunately for me, Carly Chan's vigilante heroics have put me in a precarious situation. Because Carly Chan has never had to deal with consequences in her life, whereas my life is nothing but consequences.

Carly has a mask, a costume, and a code name: Quiver. The name is unfortunately at least partially my fault, although in my defence I said it as a joke. I should have known she would take it seriously though, Carly always had the subtlety of a brick with the word 'brick' written on the side of it, that shouts brick at you when it hits you in the face.

My current predicament is entirely Carly's fault. Unlike Carly I do not have a mask, or a costume, or a code name. I also don't have the time to learn any of the hero-like skills Carly's been practicing for months, years possibly if you count the private school archery club she's been part of since she was eight. As a result, I didn't have any recourse of defence when someone grabbed me from behind and dragged me into the back of their car.

Sure Carly did offer to teach me some basic self defence after the last incident, and she has been bugging me to officially join her little superhero club but unlike Carly I have to work to eat, and live. I simply did not have the time to take vigilante lessons, something that I have begun to regret ever so slightly now that I am tied to a chair in the middle of an abandoned warehouse.

If it weren't so terrifying, it would be hilarious. The whole thing is straight out of a super generic action flick. I mean, stealing a girl as she walks home alone at night and tying her up in the middle of an unoccupied industrial building. I guess can't really call it abandoned though because the glimpse I got of the place when the blindfold slipped looked as though it was still being used during the day.

The blindfold is itchy, and I can't scratch because my hands are tied behind my back. No one has spoken to me yet, although I'm sure that will come soon if they continue to follow the basic bad guy script.

I am unreasonably calm, I can recognise that. It's not a conscious decision. I have no control over my emotions right now, in fact I'm not entirely sure I have emotions right now. I can't feel anything. It's like my feelings fled the moment I was taken, probably some kind of instinctual self preservation instinct. One I'm thankful for because if I could feel fear right now I would probably already be dead.

Being emotionally numb has resulted in a detachment that is oddly curious. I am very aware of my situation, not just in the broader sense of kidnapping but in a more localised physical way. I can feel my physical presence, the cold metal of the chair hitting my lower back where my t-shirt has been dragged upwards by the uncomfortable way my arms are pulled behind me.

Everything smells like oil, which is disconcerting and would certainly be more alarming if it weren't for the fact that two people are standing close by. As long as there are others in the room it is unlikely anyone is going to try to burn the place to the ground, hopefully.

If I could feel anything, and I wasn't being overwhelmed by debilitating fear, I would probably be bouncing with anticipation waiting for whatever it was about to start because the truth is I have no idea why I'm here. I'm focusing on Carly, because that's the easiest answer. If they're after Carly then there's a chance I will survive this. There's a chance I go home, maybe I even start feeling again eventually.

It makes sense they want to know about Carly. She's the vigilante who's been upsetting the criminal underworld. Not that there's much of a criminal underworld in our boring Sydney suburb. Mostly she just beats up rapists, something that most people agree with in general, which is probably why she's been left to her own devices before now. She's been at it for three months, someone must have seen something, someone must know something. And if they've seen Carly they've seen me. The stupid sidekick without a mask for protection.

There is a chance, of course, that this situation has nothing to do with Carly's late night activities at all. People are attacked all the time, women are attacked all the time. While I'm not the cutest girl in town I'm not sure rapists and murderers are all that discerning. The idea that this is just run of the mill violence is unsettling because if that's the case then I'm not likely to survive. Best not to dwell on that possibility.

Footsteps, someone else is here. That's good probably. More people means less arson. Although the new blood might mean we're about to move into the next stage of kidnapping, which is either mindless violence or questioning. Either way means pain for me, which is not something I'm looking forward to even without access to my emotions.

The best thing about being emotionally numb and physically aware is that it allows for a level of clarity I wouldn't otherwise have access too. Like the fact that I know without a doubt I am going to tell my kidnappers everything they want to know. If I were more emotional I might try to pretend I'm more heroic than I am. The truth is I have a very low pain tolerance and as much as I love Carly I can't deny my self preservation instinct will win out every time.

In the stories, the superhero is supposed to protect the people they love from their second life by keeping their identity a secret. I never had that option. Carly was always going to include me in this mess, just as she had with every aspect of her life since we met at twelve years old. We made promises, there were rules about honestly in our friendship and generally it worked well for us. Of course that was before she became a vigilante and started making enemies of every criminally inclined person in Parramatta.

As much as this situation sucks, I probably would change the rules of friendship that we so lovingly crafted as kids lying together in my tiny bedroom.

I hear him before I feel him, heavy boots on the concrete getting steadily louder and louder like the score for the epic action film I'm the star of. I am not expecting the pain, perhaps hoping that emotional numbness will protect me from physical pain as well. I'm not physically numb. A spike of intense pain spreads across my cheek as his hand hit, followed by a slow rising ache as the sharpness of the initial shock dissipated. It hurts a lot.

That was the first time I have ever been punched, and it was an experience I hope to never repeat. Unfortunately the person that hit me didn't ask any questions, so I didn't even get the opportunity to betray my best friend before I was attacked. Not that I'm super hyped about revealing Carly's secrets, but the fact that they didn't seem keen on information gathering suggests they are run of the mill violent offenders and as a result I am probably going to die.

I brace myself for a blow that never comes. The person with the heavy boots seems to disappear for a moment before reappearing with a loud bang. His body hitting something, hard. There is a swoosh, like a string being cut and flinging against itself followed by a screech of pain that didn't come from me.

That's when my emotions returned, pushing past the wall I built by the wave of relief that filled my gut with the realisation I was about the be rescued. The sound of string being pulled followed by a swoosh of something travelling through the air at top speed was not something I would have recognised only months before, but since Carly began her late night activities the sound of an arrow being fired and the scream of it hitting it's target was all too familiar.

My attackers, yell and scream until they don't. Until they stopped, silenced by my best friend who I should have realised would come for me even if the people that took me had nothing to do with her. It was in the friendship rules after all, no girl left behind.

After what feels like an age, I feel Carly's hand on my face. She pulls the blindfold off, her face so close to mine I can feel her breath. Behind her blue mask there's a fear I've never seen in my best friends eyes before, it chills me and reminds me how horrific this situation almost was. I can't stop myself from shaking, a involuntary tear spilling from my eye. Carly runs a soft finger over the spot on my cheek that still burns from being struck.

"Which one did this?" she asks, an edge in her voice that only appears when she's hyper focused.

My focus shifts from Carly to the warehouse around her. Lying behind Carly are four men, tied and gagged. The reality of the moment is becoming overwhelming, these men were going to kill me, I was going to die. Terror is pumped through my veins by an over enthusiastic heartbeat, but even through the panic I could see the large boots that could be only belong to the person that hit me. I also knew that Carly was going to kill that man if I told her.

"I don't know," I say finding it in me to lie. Breaking one of the fundamental building blocks of our friendship, honesty. I just hope she doesn't take my answer as an excuse to kill all four of them.

Luckily the momentary distraction seems enough to calm her down somewhat. She realises I am still shaking, which forces her attention back to me and away from the men she had been about to murder.

Later I will tell her the truth, I will tell her I knew and she will forgive me because friendship means forgiveness and sometimes rules need to be broken. Although she will have a go at me for being the one that usually suggests murder in extreme situations, turns out when it comes down to it I'd prefer not to kill someone if at all possible. Even if that person had been willing to kill me. That's nice to know.

Carly carries me out of the warehouse, despite me insisting I can walk. I think she knows I am still shaking too hard to be able to move with any dignity and she likes to be the hero of course. She's been working on weight-lifting for months, so she is happy to show off her new strength. We only make it to the street before she has to put me down though, but the gesture is nice and the comfort of being in her arms calms me enough to walk on my own.

It has been an eventful evening, one that I would not care to repeat but it did teach me one very important lesson. While Carly is a superhero, she is above everything else first and foremost my friend. Also I really need to take her up on those self defence lessons.