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1169 Words
“Roshelle,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head in disbelief. Suddenly the walls start closing in, and I know I have got to get out of here.
I have got to get away from this hurt.
I see an exit sign and make a beeline for it without looking back. I push out into the cold night air, the door slamming behind me.
“Shut the f**k up before I blow your f*****g head off!” a man’s voice yells.
“You don’t have the f*****g guts,” someone else sneers in reply.
Huh?
I try to focus, despite my tears, and I angrily swipe them from my eyes. It’s dark and there are people out here. I try to focus on the shadows in front of me, then I turn back and try to open the door I just came out of. It’s locked and there is no handle on this side. It’s clearly a fire door.
What? Where am I?
The tears are streaming down my face.
A gunshot rings out and a man drops in front of me clutching his stomach. My eyes widen in horror as I grasp the situation I have just unknowingly stumbled upon.
What?
Suddenly, I’m surrounded by five men on all sides.
I’ve interrupted some kind of deal.
Oh no.
“Who the f**k is she?” one man calls out.
I shake my head in a panic. “I didn’t see anything, I swear.” I push through the group of men and one of them grabs me by the arm. “I need me some clean ass tonight.”
I try to rip my arm from his clutches, but he hits me hard across the face with his gun, the pain ringing through my head like a lightning bolt before I fall to the ground.
“Bring her with us,” someone yells.
“No, we don’t need that baggage. Leave her, she said she didn’t see anything.”
They continue arguing.
“Yeah, well, my c**k needs new p***y. “Bring her.” The shooter growls.
I feel my body being lifted and then thrown into the tight space of a car trunk. “No,” I whisper. “No.” My handbag falls to the ground and I see someone pick it up and throw it in the car.
The trunk lid slams with a thud.
I taste blood in my mouth as I lie in a semi-conscious state in the dark.
The pain from my head throbs. What has just happened?
I put my hands up in the darkness and feel the cold metal that encases me.
The reality of the situation rings true as the car starts to drive and I hear them talking to each other in the backseats behind me. Everything is foggy and my head, it hurts so much. I feel something hot run through my hair. What is it? I put my hand up and feel a deep gash in my head, the dripping blood hot and sticky. What the f**k? Oh no. They will kill me.
With renewed purpose and splayed hands I start to hit the roof in a panic.
They just killed someone.
I need some new p***y.
His words run through my head. Oh my God, they are going to r**e me before they kill me, all five of them.
I start to run my hands frantically over the metal that encases me. How do you get out of a car trunk? Is there a latch?
“Help!” I scream. “Help me,” I call out as I slam my open hands on the roof. The car slows down. s**t! My eyes widen.
Is this it? I pant as I listen to their movements and I hear the whirl of the traffic lights walk indicator. Now! I need to scream now. We are static, stuck in traffic.
I start to bang on the roof with force. “Help me!” I scream. I lift my legs and try to push the lid open, but f**k, it’s so cramped in here. I bang frantically on the ceiling and I feel around underneath me, grabbing the corner of the carpet. Tools. There will be tools under here. I half roll over and tear back the carpet and grab a metal toolbox. “Help me. I’m in the trunk. I’m being kidnapped. Heeeeeeelp!” I scream.
“Shut the f**k up or I’ll come back there and shut you up,” a male voice growls from inside the car.
My eyes widen. Oh, he sounds scary. I really begin to freak out. I have to get out of here. Now.
I struggle to open the toolbox in front of me in the dark, but eventually it flies open in a rush and a tire iron flings back, hitting me straight in the nose.
“Ah, f**k!” I scream.
Ouch, that f*****g hurt. The impact brings tears to my eyes and I clutch my face. Oh, crap, I think I broke my own nose. I grab the tire iron and hit it on the roof with all of my strength. The impact makes it ricochet back and hits me straight in the eyebrow.
“Ahh!” I scream again. I feel a hot trickle run down the side of my face. If they don’t kill me I am doing a good job of it myself here.
I keep banging the tire iron on the roof. This has got to be gaining some kind of attention. “Help me,” I yell. “Someone… call the police. Help.”
The car speeds up and I am flung to the back of the trunk. The lights change, the car flies around the corner, and I go flying, sending the tools scattering throughout the trunk so they hit me. The driver turns a right like a maniac and I slide and hit my head against the side.
“f*****g assholes,” I scream, and I hear them all laugh inside the car. Then the vehicle flies around a left corner and I go sliding again. I can hear the tires screeching as the car races down the street.
I’m going to die. Oh God, I’m going to die. I try to grip onto the metal roof to stop myself from hitting the edge, but I can’t, and as the car flies around the corner I crumple into the hard metal end of the trunk. The tools are flying around and hitting me. s**t. I feel around frantically for the tire iron again. I may need it, but I can’t find it, and my hand feels around the carpeted floor.
Where are you? Where are you?
I bend and feel along the other end of the trunk and finally feel the cold hard metal. My heart is racing as the car races out of control. I need a plan, but what is the damn plan?
Think.
- Writer
