3
877 Words
“Hey, Mia?” I whisper as Tess passes by on her way to the kitchen. “I need to cut out a little early, I think. My head’s pounding.” It’s barely audible. I can’t let him hear me.
“No surprise,” she remarks, eyeing my textbook, “you’ve been glued to that thing all day.” She gives me a quick pat on the shoulder. “Go on, get some rest. You’re too young to be so wound up.”
She has no clue.
I shove my stuff into my bag and tug the scrunchie from my hair, letting the strands fall to shield my face as I make my way through the kitchen and towards the back exit. Only once I step outside into the cool night air do I release the breath I’ve been holding.
He didn’t see me.
At least I hope not. Now comes the hard part: walking past the front windows to reach my bike. Damn it. It’s just like before when I had to sneak around, praying he wouldn’t notice. By now, he’ll be seated inside, pretending to be just another customer. He wouldn’t want to come in and announce himself—he’s too slick for that.
I tell myself that as I round the building, trying to convince myself I can make it.
Then, a hand grips my arm.
“Long time no see,” Max’s voice is sickeningly familiar, his breath hot against my ear as he yanks me back against him. At least I don’t have to smell his stench for long before a sharp pain explodes in my skull, and everything goes black.
Later…
I open my eyes slowly, the world around me blurry. It smells like gasoline. Stale air and car fumes fill my nostrils. Someone should crack a window.
I blink, my mind racing to piece everything together. The diner… Max… Did he hit me? I must’ve blacked out.
When I realize I’m no longer behind the diner, I panic. I try to move, but the sharp pain in the back of my head stops me. I force my eyes open, and that’s when I realize where I am: a car trunk. The world bounces with every jolt, and I can hear the tires crunching over gravel.
He’s taking me somewhere. Somewhere out of sight. Out of reach.
I force myself to stay calm.
I can’t move my arms—my hands are tied behind me—but my legs are free. It’s useless though, without my hands. I remember everything they tell you to do in these situations, but it’s useless now. Max is no fool; he’s made sure nobody will see what happens next.
I have to fight.
When the car finally stops, I know it’s too late. He’s going to do this. I brace myself. Every bruise, every harsh word, every broken moment floods my mind as I prepare for the worst.
The trunk opens.
“There’s my girl,” Max mutters, his voice thick with malice.
I react without thinking: a hard kick, a scream, but it’s no use. He’s too strong. Stronger than before. I catch him in the shin with my foot, but it only enrages him.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he spits at me as he drags me out of the car.
I’m dizzy, barely able to stand as he shoves me to my knees. I don’t know what’s worse—the threat in his voice, or the way he’s unzipping his pants. I try to rise, but my arms won’t cooperate.
“What you’re gonna do,” he sneers, “is pay me back for everything you took from me.”
Everything in me wants to scream, to fight, but he’s faster.
His hand grips the back of my head, and before I can even gather my strength, he forces me down. The taste of him fills my mouth—sickening, foul, but I don’t have a choice.
Then, a flash of clarity.
I bite down—hard.
He screams, and the blood fills my mouth before I pull away, spitting it out. He collapses, clutching himself in agony as I stagger to my feet, desperate to escape.
I don’t know where I am, but I have to run.
I have to get away before he finds me again.
I don’t know how long I can keep running, but I don’t stop. Not until I hear the engine roar to life behind me. Max is coming.
I push myself harder, but my feet stumble. The ground is uneven, and I trip, falling onto the rocks.
I get up. I have to keep running.
Then the headlights catch me. I can hear him coming. I can hear him screaming as the car charges toward me.
I can’t outrun it.
“You’re f*****g dead!” he screams.
I don’t know if I can make it, but I have to try.
And then my foot catches something. I crash into the dirt, but I force myself to get back up.
But not fast enough.
Max is already there, his hands grabbing my hair, yanking me to my feet. His fist meets my jaw with a sickening crack. And then… nothing.
- Writer
