The right moment
*Olivia* I have never known terror before, but now I find myself fearing everything: the rough hands, the fetid breath reeking of whiskey, the strong fingers clamped around my wrists holding them behind my back. His mouth misses its mark and skids across my cheek, leaving a slobbery trail. "Ryan, stop!" I tell him. He shoves his thigh between mine. "Come on, Olivia, you know you want a little kiss." I want nothing of the sort, at least not from him. I want to scream, but I think I might die if anyone sees me like this: pressed against the back wall of the general store with this man wrapped around me. "Ryan, please let me go," I plead. "Kiss me first." He demands. The tears threaten to surface. Somehow, I know he would enjoy watching the tears fall, so I hold them back. "Ryan!" "Sh
- Writer
