"I can't believe you!" I cry, pushing him away from me.  "You cheated on me, again?"  And I was the stupid idiot that took you back after the first time?

His eyes didn't even hold a glimpse of remorse. Instead he just shrugged, offering no sign of trying to defend his case.  After three years, this was what I deserved?  To be cheated on by the only person I thought that I could trust?  To try again and again for a careless whore?  I mean, he was the one who held me when I needed it the most.  He was there when my grandfather died, He held me when I wept for hours and hours at night.  I shared my bed with him.   And this is what I'm given in return!

"I fucked up." 

"Literally!" I yelled, shoving his chest.  He shrugged again, flicking a lighter to burn the end of his cigarette.   A puff of smoke blew into my face.  I jerked away, disgusted with his behavior.  I wish I could take that cigarette and shove it right into his fucking eye. 

"Are you serious right now?  You're ripping my heart out and you don't even care!"  I screamed.  

"Evelyn it's not like I want to break up with you!" 

"I don't care!  I don't even want to be with you anymore!  Especially if you are going to treat me like fucking trash!"  

"What the fuck do you mean?" Anger registered across his face.  The cigarette met his lips, taking in a long drag.  Eyes as black as coal glassed over, making me shiver.  I want to kill him, beat him over the head until he realizes what he's done.  Forever and ever no matter what, right?  No.  It was a lie; every syllable and acronym that flowed past his lips was nothing more than empty promises. 

"I'm done!" I yelled.  I stalked to his beat up Ford truck, yanking my bag off of the worn, tattered seat.  Damn him and his nasty carpet seats.  Damn him and his truck that has holes in the floor, and it's rusted body.  As far as I'm concerned the rust bucket can burn in hell.

"You aren't done.  You can't leave me."

"Really?" I snapped.  I stalked towards him, raising a finger to jab in his damned face.  "Because I don't deserve this!  You can't sleep with a girl, and then sleep next to me, in my own goddamned bed at night!  That's not how it works Ron!  You've crushed me!"  Is he a goddamned idiot?  Did he truly and honestly think that I could just forgive him for sticking his penis, that by now is probably rotten off from the skank that he's been with, and just move on with our relationship?  Anger rippled through me, making my hands shake and vision blur.  How I would love to scrape my nails across his eyes.  

"Fine.   You want to leave?  Don't let the door hit you in the ass.  I haven't been happy for the better half of eight months, all because you're fucking crazy.  We are just toxic," he said.  He let go of the spent stub , letting it fall to the ground before using the toe of his black shoes to smear it's remains into the ground.  He always had a terrible habit of letting things fall before he smeared their guts into the pavement.  My eyes flicked back to his.  He didn't show any of the old Ron that I love.  Instead there was a new creature, full of dull emotions.  He looked like he might even be trying to hide a smile.  

"So much for our future, right?  Going on all of those road trips, having our own house with that dipshit cat and an RV?"  I have never been good at trying to spark remorse in a person, or guilting them with past memories, but I had to try.  My worst fear is leaving this relationship and being the only heartbroken one.  After all, how can you just say all of these things, yet be with the person for three years?  Let alone, this isn't even the first time he's cheated!  The first time I let slide, and just forgot about, per his advice.  Now I see what a huge mistake that was.

"I'm done with your crazy ass!  I'm done trying to forget about the fights or the things you have done.  I'm done Evelyn.  We just aren't good for each other."

"You trying to forget the things I've done?  You've got to be kidding me, right?" I asked.  I re-positioned the straps of my backpack, marching for the end of his long driveway.  Leave it to me to be stuck at the longest drive in the whole city. 

"When I come and get my shit make sure it's all packed up!" He called after me.  What a fucking ass.  

"Oh trust me, it will be in a nice pile in the driveway.  Burnt to a motherfucking crisp," I snapped.  

Without another word I started my way home, desperate to leave this whole night behind me.  Even as I tried to focus on walking, putting one foot in front of the other, I could feel my heart splintering.  The love of my life willingly walked out, not bothering to fight for me.  

I hope his truck catches on fire from all of the rewiring he's done.  Maybe then he will realize that I put up with a lot of his shit, and that he's all alone with nobody to help fix his heart. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crunch.  Crunch.  Crunch. 

The sound of my shoes crunching against the loose gravel on the sidewalk seemed to echo throughout my neighborhood.  I was walking home at a brisk pace, still furious from earlier events.  Hopefully my parents would still be working, so I didn't have to explain to them why my eye makeup was smudged and in streaks down my face.  Admitting that Ron and I broke up is the last thing on my priority list for the evening.

The streets that normally are crowded and busy are desolate.  Tonight has a different mood then before; the town seemed off in a way; there was no hustle of life, but rather a hushed eeriness. The dark night hindered my eyesight; It was ten o'clock at night, after all.  Thank you Ron for breaking my heart at night, when it is difficult to see through the tears.

The wind seemed to slap me in the face instead of it's usually kind nature. The air seemed electrified, and my body was sent into overdrive due to the anticipation and anxiety I felt. This was the classic scene of a horror movie; I am walking through a haunted house attraction, scared and anticipating every bad thing that is going to happen. The room is pitch black, and it gets eerily quiet right before the lights flick on for a minute and you see Pennywise. 

The audience, including me, would scream.

Needless to say, I was not enjoying my walk home.

I knew that I shouldn't be scared:  My family had lived in this town for a long time, before I was even around.  I was familiar with literally everything I saw.  From the shops that lined downtown, to the local cafe that the football jocks and cheerleaders went to every Thursday night.  This neighborhood has been monotonously the same for many generations, and it was quite evident.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, catching my attention. 

I jumped, heart hammering in my chest.  Not what I was expecting, but not a killer, so I considered myself lucky.. My face grew hot, and I looked around nervously to see if anyone had saw me.  Way to go Eve. Make a scene in front of a stranger on the sidewalk and have to explain to them that you're having the worst night of your entire life, and you just aren't with the program. It didn't help that thunderstorms scared the ever-living snot out of me. 

The air was calm despite the less-than-gentle breeze that sliced through my body every five or ten minutes. With the mixture of electrified air and the lack of rain this town has had in the past month, I could judge that this storm was going to be good.

God, could my life get any worse?  

Panic rose in my throat. My breathing hitched, and it was difficult to keep my mind from internally screaming. I knew this reaction far too well. Please don't have a panic attack, I begged my mind. It is only potatoes rolling in the sky when God drops his basket. . . That's the saying parents always told little kids to comfort them, right?

Another deep rumble of thunder echoed over and over in the intensified air, taunting me. The first strike of white-hot lightning race across the angry black sky; that's when I knew that I had to get home fast.  Unless I wanted to be like a drenched cat in bath water, which wouldn't improve my current state in any way, shape, or form.

I grabbed the straps to my hot pink backpack, securely holding it against my body, and took off in a fast sprint heading in the general direction of my house.  My black converse shoes slapped against the concrete, the sound almost as loud as the thunder rumbling overhead. I was gasping for breath shortly into the run, but I didn't dare stop. I couldn't bring myself to, fearing that I would start hyperventilating in the middle of the street, drawing attention to myself. That would just make my  night that much better.

Slap.  Slap.  Slap. 

I dashed around a stop sign. 

Almost home, I thought.

Breathless, tired, and shaking, I stopped running for a moment to gain back some energy.  I analyzed the sky:  It was a black infinity that looked as if it were about to unleash Hell's fury.

I am not prepared for Hell yet.

"Oh god!  Oh god please no!" I whined. I could feel each second ticking by, reminding me that each moment was limited until the bucket would be dumped on me. I could feel it in my body, the tick, tick, tick right before-

As if the devil himself had heard my cries, he flipped his diabolical switch, and rain poured down from the belligerent sky, soaking me from head to toe.

"ARGH!" My scream ripped through the air. 

Another crack of thunder boomed, mocking me. I jump in response.

I'm sure if I go to Hell when I die that the devil will sentence me to live in a purgatory of thunderstorms and tornadoes. Or a never-ending loop of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

I didn't even move when the rain pelted down, except for the occasional jump from thunder. What else could possibly ruin today? School had been bad enough from Jama Bitch-Face and her crowd. I had failed my math test, and I didn't have a book to read. The list goes on and on, but I needed to get out of the rain.

"I just can't stay here," I said to myself.  "C'mon Evelyn, get your ass home."

I started sprinting again.  My shoes sloshed in puddles, and my shirt stuck to my body, hugging every curve that I was self conscious about.  The rain hurt my face, but I didn't stop.  I could feel the unbearable creep of panic rising within me.  This was not going to be pretty.

I stopped at Baker's Street corner, huffing from being out of breath while impatiently tapping my foot, waiting for a utility van to turn and get the hell out of my way. I kept the anxiety at bay, but I couldn't keep it there for long.

I hate traffic, I thought. I was gasping for breath, while my hands sat on my hips. I'm never walking to Colette's house this late again.

I was just thinking about moving around the annoying van when I saw another electrifying lighting strike bloom across the sky. It was like my whole body was a live wire and I was waiting for the sparks to fly. I held in my shaky breath, waiting for the sickening crackle of thunder to follow the lightning.

Crack!

The thunder grew louder, beginning to crescendo into its own symphony, all the while becoming more and more threatening. I huffed in frustration, running a hand through my soaking wet mop of blonde hair. Why can't this stupid van just move already? I angrily thought. Any other time cars would dangerously zoom by, not bothering to stop, but this one was too safe of a driver, or at least that's what I presume. My house is on this street! I was so close, yet so far away!  If only I could have gotten Ron to tell me that he cheated while he was parked in my driveway!

I started to edge around it, not sure if the driver could see me.  With the tinted windows it almost looked as if there wasn't a driver....

I was just stepping off of the sidewalk and onto the black pavement when I heard a creaking sound followed by loud boot stomps.  Startled, I looked over to my left.  A blur of grey was running towards me.

I stumbled back a few steps, dazed.  The blur never stopped, increasing pace and still heading in my direction.  This is bad, I thought.  This is very, very bad.

I turned on my heel and headed in a sprint towards the library, the complete opposite direction of my house.  I could see the slight glow of the windows from where I was on the sidewalk.  Anxiety and adrenaline made me forget about my burning lungs momentarily. 

My sneaker just landed on the first limestone step of the library when large hands seized my upper arms.

"Let go of me!" I screamed.  "Let go of me you bastard!"  I thrashed around, kicking, and clawed the air in search of my capture's face.

A fist collided with the back of my head.  My vision became tunneled and my eyes watered. 

"You're coming with me," a dark voice rasped.  The pungent smell of onions filled my nostrils.  I gagged fighting the vomit that was creeping up my throat. 

"Bullshit!" I screamed finding my voice; it was strangled and cracked. Couldn't anyone hear me?

I wedged my foot between his legs and kicked him in the balls, earning a grunt from his lips.  He bent over, huffing in pain.  He wasn't dazed for long. 

"Fine, you wanna fight girly?"  He roughly threw me to the ground.  Mud splashed up, caking the side of my face and clothes.  Blood was seeping from a cut on my cheek.  Rocks embedded themselves into my side and elbow.  I yelped in surprise.  I looked up at his masked face, momentarily paralyzed with fear. I could have swore that I stopped breathing in that moment.

"I've always liked a good chase," he cackled.  He gave me a sharp kick in the ribs, taking my breath away.  "Run Bitch."

Wheezing I picked myself off of the ground and staggered towards the other side of the street.  I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that if I didn't figure it out fast then I was going to die.  I mean would terrorize someone if they didn't plan on killing them?

"Oh my god someone help me!"

I didn't have a destination, all I knew was that I had to find somewhere fast.  I couldn't go home because my parent's weren't there, and he could just break into the house and kill me.  I couldn't put Colette in danger like this, because she was home alone too.  All I could do was run and pray to the heavens that someone up there could hear me. 

Dirty water splashed up onto my jeans when I crossed the flooded street.  I heard squealing tires behind me, coming from the alleyway I had just passed. 

"I'll get you bitch," He laughed.

I sprinted faster, tears seeping from my eyes, mixing with the rain water. 

Is this really how I was going to die?

After a while I didn't hear the van.  I slowed my pace, deciding to hide behind a dumpster until I was sure he was gone. 

Huffing and puffing, I bent over, trying to retain my breath.  What the hell is going on?  I asked myself.  Why is this crazy person trying to kidnap me?

"Tired already?" He chuckled.  I stiffened.  My eyes locked with his under his shiny, plastic mask.  Hazel. 

"Too bad, I love a good chase."  Another evil laugh.

"Get the hell away from me you sick fuck!" I screamed.  I turned to run, but he snatched my arm and threw me to the ground before I even had a chance to raise my foot off of the ground.

"I don't think so."

His boot connected with my face.  A scream rippled through the air.

His boot crushed my hand.  He put his full weight onto it, preventing my attack.  "How are you feeling Candy?" He chuckled. 

I spat blood in response. 

"So...beautiful..." He muttered.  He bent down, brushing the hair from my eyes.   My hands clawed into the dirt.  I badly wanted to claw his eyes out and make him eat them.  I wanted to strangle him until he was dead.  I wanted to rip his guts out and feed them to him like a pig.  I wanted-

"Why don't we go on a little walk?"  He suddenly yanked my hair, pulling me up onto my face.  I could feel the roots of my hair painfully detaching from my scalp.  I knew that this was the end of the not-so-easy battle.

H shoved me towards the other end of the alley.  It wasn't a large alley, small and narrow, with only a few dumpsters and a few stray cats.  Litter riddled the stone walls. 

"I think you will like your new home," the sick fuck said. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" I spat, trying to jerk myself from his grasp. 

That comment earned me punch in the face. 

"Don't get smart-assy with me, Candy," he growled.  "That will only make your time with me worse.  What little time you have left." 

Around the corner of the alley the van that I had seen earlier was parked, the back doors opened.  My eyes widened with fear when I saw bloodied knives hanging in the back windows that were so tinted you couldn't see through them from the outside. 

"Play nice and you will get a reward," he cooed.  He attempted to roughly shove me into the van.  I kicked, aiming for his balls, but missed horribly.  I had earned another punch.

By now my face was swollen, bloody, and multicolored.  I was breathing in rugged breaths. 

He threw me up against the side of the van, his body pressed against my back. 

"Don't try that ever again Candy." 

"Get.  off."

His body pressed closer to me.  "You haven't seen me on you yet."  I cried out, my head being smashed against the door.  Streaks of red dripped down through my scalp.  He picked my thrashing body up and threw me into the back of the van.  My book bag soon followed.  I hadn't noticed in the struggle that it had fallen off. 

My folders and papers spilled out, pencils and pens following.  I scrambled, clawing my way towards my bag.  My phone.  I need my phone.

My shaking hands faltered with the clasp, my body shaking in rhythm with them.  I fiercely dug through the junk that lay in the bottom of my bag.    I would pray, but I wasn't sure if God was listening. 

My eyes searched for the dull, worn case of my phone.  I could feel time pressing down on my shoulders, threatening to hold me under the water until I was finished off.  Every second seemed like it was a trillion years; yet every minute seemed to go by faster and faster.

Right when I thought that all hope was lost I saw a glimpse of my black case peak out from under a candy wrapper. 

"Oh my god!" I softly whispered.  I still have a chance.  I snatched it while discreetly tucking it into my sweatshirt pocket. 

I pressed the home button and the screen lit up, blinding me.  I hurriedly turned the brightness down,  wildly looking around to see if the mad man had seen.  I heard a bump sounding from the passenger side.  I paused, holding my breath.

He cleared his throat, then closed the car door.  I sighed: I was safe for now. 

I unlocked my phone and dialed 911. 

Holding the phone up to my ear with shaking hands, my breath came fast and hard.  If I were to be caught now, I knew that I would be dead meat.  The dial tone only lasted a second before a lady picked up. 

"Nine one-one, what's your emergency?"

"He's got me," I whispered, shaking even more.  My voice trembled.  "He's got me!"

"Miss I need you to stay calm," the lady said.  "Do you know where you're at?"

"No," I sobbed.  "But please, please hurry.  He's going to kill me." I looked at the knives hanging from a utility rack in the back of the van and my eyes watered. "He has weapons."

"I need you to stay calm.  Stay on the line okay? Don't hang up-" her instructions were cut short by the sound of a window being opened.  I choked, the feeling my hood of my sweatshirt being jerked backwards forcing me to drop my phone and grasp my neck. 

"I got 'er.  Get the phone." 

My eyes watered, my hands clutched my  my throat.  If I let him take my phone I won't be saved, I thought. I need to be strong.

My hands darted out, grasping, searching for my phone.  The other person aggressively yanked me back towards him, back towards hell. He pulled on the strings of my hood, snaking them around my neck and tightening the long strings, choking me. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't do anything but helplessly be detained while the he opened the door.

"Trying to get away, now are we Candy?"  He smiled, crawling back into the van.  The strings tightened with every sob.  I clutched my throat.

"She's a feisty one," the other voice said.  "What's her name?"

The devil smirked.  "Candy.  That's her name."

"I bet she will live up to it.  Looks pretty sweet to me."

"Yes, I'm sure she will be," the Sick Fuck said.  His eyes ghosted up and down my body, making me want to shove his eyeballs back into his head.  I lunged a little, only to be taken back by the strings.  My face was red, and I knew that I was going to pass out soon.  He only chuckled more, picking up the phone and then clambering out of the back.

This man, these men had to be psychotic or something.  Was this all a sick joke?  Am I on the show Pranked right now?  Because they were taking this way too far. 

My only hope for survival now lay in the road, where I could hear him continually smash it into the pavement.  My phone lay in obliterated pieces.  I'm sure that help was on the way, but we would be long gone by the time they even arrived, let alone found my phone.  Another loud sob escaped my lips. 

I felt a sudden release when I felt the strings of my jacket being let go.  I fell to the floor, choking and gasping for breath.  I looked up through watery eyes and saw a hatch that had been spray painted, and noticed that it was still open.  I saw a face through the hatch, looking down at me, laughing. 

I leaned on my elbows, glaring up at the eyes.  I gathered all of the saliva in my mouth, preparing.  I sucked in a breath and spit a huge wad of saliva at him. I was pleased when the goo landed right in his eye. Serves you right, sick bastard, I thought.

"Bitch," he spat. I stared up at him as he grasped the window and securely shut it. 

I heard the engine roar to life, then I felt a jolt.  We were soon speeding down the road, to a place unknown.

I saw street lights fly by, along with local restaurants and stores that I often went to with my family. My whole life was flying by me in a neon colored blur, as I was stuck in the middle of Hell. I started to scream so loud that eventually all that came out of my mouth was strangled sounds of my voice. I just wanted someone to help me.  I just wanted an escape.

The van squealed around a corner, jostling me around in the back of the vehicle like a rag doll. I fell on my back, smacking my head on a bucket that was laying behind me. Pain blossomed, creating a head splitting migraine that would last for a while. I decided to just stay on the hard plastic flooring, not knowing what else to do. Eventually, I just gave up thinking of ideas. I accepted my fate, willing to greet death as an old friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted on April 1, 2015

Edited  on December 15, 2016

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