

The tow

A twisted Novella

R.a Holmes

## The Tow

### Copyright R.A Holmes 2013

### SMASHWORDS EDITON

This book is for entertainment purposes only. Any names, places or events are used fictitiously from the author's imagination and are simply coincidental.

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One

There's glass everywhere. I lean down to pick up the large pieces that have broken away from the rest of the pickle jar. The scent of vinegar this early in the morning almost makes me vomit.

"Ambree, what are you doing," my mom calls from the other room.

"Nothing. I dropped the pickles," I call back to her. Like she hadn't heard the jar drop and shatter into a thousand sour-smelling pieces.

"Are you cut?"

"No." I grab the paper towels and unroll them onto the floor. My hands smell of pickles now. I'll never get this scent from my hands. What will my friends think? I'll be the girl they call "pickles" today. I shudder at the thought.

I hurriedly toss the remainder of the glass into the garbage can before I grab my book bag off the kitchen counter and rush out the door.

I hadn't told my mother goodbye. She'll get over it. The rain begins to fall as I begin walking to the street where I'd unfortunately had to park my car.

"Just great," I grumble, holding my bag above my head. Running, I slam open my car door and hop inside before any permanent damage is done to my hair.

How awful. Not only do I smell like pickles, I'm going to look horrible the rest of the day too. I frown to myself. I put the key in the ignition of the old car. It hesitates only for a moment before the loud engine begins to roar.

I flip on the wipers and they squeak loudly. I roll my eyes at just how embarrassing this car really is. I'd gotten it from my grandmother last year as a sixteenth birthday gift. If I only knew how many problems it was going to cause me, I would have declined it altogether.

I sigh before pulling away from my house and down the street.

Pulling into Lucy's driveway, I honk my horn. Seconds later, she comes running out, her hands above her head blocking her hairdo from the dreadful rain.

"This weather sucks," she says slamming the car door. "It's been raining for like two weeks straight!" She flips down the visor and checks herself in the mirror.

"I know. I hate living here." This is Ohio though. It rains on days it's supposed to snow, and snows on days it's suppose to be ninety degrees. The weather never knows what it wants to do.

"So did you hear what Riley did with Steven?" Lucy begins to talk but I don't pay attention. It's always rumors or gossip about stuff I don't care for and people I don't like. I keep my eyes on the road and every now and then reply with "Really?" It seems to satisfy her enough.

She pulls out her pack of cigarettes; I don't know how she gets them. If her parents knew, they would for sure ground her for life. She tosses one into her mouth and lights it, offering me one.

"I'm good right now," I say. I only smoke on occasion. Well, only when I'm with Lucy.

Lucy and I have been friends since we were old enough to talk. Our mother's had become friends in college and are still friends. We have our differences but I wouldn't ask for anyone else I could share my deepest secrets with.

I continue driving, in my own little world until I pull into the school parking lot. People are lined in front of the double doors. They wait to be let in from the weather outside. The rain still falls.

"I'm not getting out yet," I say turning my radio up.

"So, what did you and Jensen do last night?" Lucy turns down the music and places her head on her palm. She waits for me to confess everything. Normally, I would. Today I'm just not feeling it.

"Nothing much." I smile. She knows I'm lying but I don't care.

"Oh bullshit," she laughs. She knows me. She knows everything. Me and Braxton Jensen have been dating for two years as of yesterday. It's a happy relationship I would say.

He's smart, funny, and one of the most popular guys and not to mention, the hottest at Redwood High. All that and he's all mine. I smile at the thought.

"See, you're smiling!" Lucy points. She bounces in her seat like a dog waiting for a bone. I swear she lives off gossip.

"I'll tell you later," I say turning off my car and opening my door. The rain has thankfully stopped a little in the few minutes we've been sitting in my car.

"I'm going to find Acker." Lucy hugs me quickly before she rushes inside the old school, her curly hair bobbing behind her.

The halls are filled when I enter the school. Lockers sit in a long line in front of me. Groups of people talk to each other. I squeeze my way past and to my locker, which luckily was placed, near my first period class this year.

I open it and shove my book bag inside. Grabbing the books I'll need from it, I check my reflection in the mirror that hangs on the yellow metal door.

First period is my least favorite. I'm not sure if it's the subject, or that I still have an entire day to go before I'm finally free again.

Miss. Whales, the History teacher sits at her desk. She writes in a notebook and doesn't bother checking who's entering her classroom. Her name fits her perfectly.

She's short and wide. Her short strawberry hair is always wild and her wardrobe is that of an outdated nun. She could be a nun, who knows.

I take my seat at the back of the classroom.

"Hey Ambree," I hear someone call as I open my notebook to whatever page I've been doodling on half the year.

"Hey!" I say happily. It's a fake tone. It's always a fake tone. Be nice, be cheerful, always offer your help whenever it's needed, my mother always says.

She was a cheerleader and she is beautiful. I think it kills her a little inside that I've chosen a different path. I wouldn't be caught dead dancing around a football field in a mini skirt, making an ass out of myself.

Just before the bell rings, Braxton walks into the classroom. I know it's him because the whispers begin and the girls giggle. I look up from my notebook and smile at him.

He takes his seat next to mine and pulls me to him, kissing my forehead. His spiky brown hair is shiny from the gel he uses. His wide, bright blue eyes stare into mine before he smiles.

"Good morning beautiful."

"Morning," I say still not awake yet.

"Are you okay," he asks concerned. He grabs a hold of my arm and looks at me again.

"I'm just tired, you kept me out too late last night," I say only half-joking. I'd almost gotten grounded. It was one of the best nights of my life though. I know my mother knows what had happened. She's just too shy to ask.

I probably wouldn't have told her the truth anyway. No one should know. What happened last night should be kept between only me and Braxton. Although, I know Lucy will drag it out of me somehow.

"I'm sorry. You had fun though right?" He winks.

"Yes." I chuckle shyly.

Our conversation is cut short when Whales stands and begins to speak. Her old, raspy voice is loud. She makes it impossible to concentrate on anything other than her lecture. Stupid History.

I begin to draw small pictures into my notebook.
Two

"Ambree." Lucy waves from the lunch line. I smile and walk into the line to join her, cutting ahead of dozens of people as I do so.

"Hey Lucy." I yawn.

"I heard you didn't get home until late last night. Was there some type of reason for that?" Her brown eyes twinkle with excitement and need-to-know.

"Yes." I look around the room.

"I knew it! You whore! Tell me everything!"

I flinch at how loud she's become.

"I'll tell you later. I just don't want rumors started." Even though I know Lucy would be the first to start those very rumors.

The same old foods sit in their warming trays through the glass. We're lucky enough to have choices, and most days some of them are actually edible. Today however, is not one of those days.

"What are you getting?" Lucy turns to me, a disgusted look on her face.

"Cheese fries."

"Me too." She smiles before turning her head again. Of course you are.

Our normal table in the back of the cafeteria is already filled with Acker and his football friends.

It is closest to the exit and surrounded on both sides by windows that give us a view of the football field. I think that's why Acker has chosen it in the first place.

That guy lives, sleeps, and eats football. I don't understand how Lucy likes him. He is devoted to only one thing. He's cocky and thinks he's better than everyone else is. He's not that good looking to be as conceded as he is.

I'm hoping that sometime soon, Lucy will finally see the big picture and dump him. It's not looking good though.

"Acker, can we have somewhere to sit?" Lucy shoots him a look and he sighs before saying goodbye to his friends who leave the table pushing and shoving each other.

I slam my tray down harder than I'd wanted before sitting down.

"Hey baby." Lucy says sitting next to Acker. He smiles halfheartedly at her before taking a fry from her tray and shoving it in his mouth.

I roll my eyes but keep quiet. Braxton pulls out a chair and sits next to me. He pulls me into a kiss.

"That's all you're eating?" He looks at the pile of fries on my tray and frowns.

"That's all I want," I lie. Really, it's all I could stomach right now.

"Hey Jensen." Acker says spinning the football in circles on the table.

"Hey bro," Braxton says never looking away from me.

"So, I heard you two had some time last night." Lucy looks at Braxton smiling. I almost choke on my juice. She can't get information from me so she goes to Braxton. Nice Lucy, nice.

"We did," Braxton raises an eyebrow and looks at me in question. I only shake my head and pop a fry into my mouth.

"Jeez. It must've been good if neither one of you will open your mouth and tell me." She rolls her eyes.

"Did you get her Jensen?" Acker smiles cockily. Lucy giggles and slaps him playfully on the arm.

Braxton rolls his eyes and ignores the question. What's the big damn deal?

"What's going on in English," I change the subject. Since I'm the only one who hasn't had the class yet, I figure it's a safe zone right now.

"We have to choose a book to read and write a fifty page paper on it. It's due next Friday." Lucy says in her best impression of Mrs. Quay.

"Yeah, lame right!" Acker sighs long and loud. "How can I read a whole book in a week?"

I keep my comments to myself. I know Braxton is thinking the same thing.

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad." I say aloud.

"Easy for you to say Ambree. You love reading." Lucy lays her head on the table and stares at Acker. I have the feeling she's whispering about me but I don't care.

"Oh!" She shoots back up and it takes me by surprise. I drop my fry on the table. I stare down at the fry, then to Lucy before I flick it to the floor. "Did you hear about Kenza's party tonight?"

"No," I reply before taking a long sip of my juice.

"Yes! It's supposed to be like the party. You have to go!" She bats her eyes.

Kenza is Lucy's cousin. If you call it that. They're related somehow through someone marrying someone related to someone. I've never gotten the entire story. I've only met her once. She's okay but not someone I'd like to hang out with for more than a few hours.

I look to Braxton who shrugs. "I guess we can go." He says before shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Yeah. We'll go." I say reluctantly.

"Yay!" Lucy squeals. "I can pick you guys up."

"Okay. What time?" I look to Braxton who stays silent.

"After the football game. Is around ten okay?" Of course it's after the football game. Mr. MVP can't miss one game now can he?

"That's fine," I say as I stand. The bell rings loudly throughout the cafeteria letting us know our forty minutes of freedom is over.

"I'll see you after school." Braxton grabs my hand and squeezes gently. "You know we don't have to go to the party if you don't want to." He smiles and kisses me gently on the lips. I nod before he turns away and walks down the hall to class.

I walk to English with a large smile on my face.
THREE

I've chosen the only book I could think of. Romeo and Juliet. It seems to fit my mood at the moment. I also remember reading the book a while ago and I loved it.

As I listen to the final ten minutes of the lesson, I can't help but stare at the clock almost every three seconds. It ticks by so slow that I feel as though I'll go crazy by the time the bell rings.

Then I'll be free from this place for two whole days. I can spend as much time with Braxton as I'd like without interruption. Oh how wonderful that sounds.

"Hey." Braxton is waiting at my locker when I come around the corner.

"Hey." I smile. Opening my locker, I check myself in the mirror.

"You look as beautiful as ever." Braxton kisses my forehead.

"Thanks." I toss my books in the locker and slam it shut.

"Do you want to go out to dinner before the party tonight?" Braxton pulls the hood of his sweater over his head and zips it the rest of the way up.

"That sounds nice," I say. He grabs my hand and walks me to my car. I don't care if my hair gets wet as the rain continues to fall. Always raining.

He opens the door and leans down, looking around the interior of the old Chevy.

"You need to clean this car out. It smells like pickles." He chuckles.

"Actually I think that's me." I feel my face flush. "I dropped a jar of pickles this morning." How embarrassing.

"Oh." He grabs the door and before he closes it, he speaks once more. "I'll pick you up at seven," he says and shuts my door before turning around and jogging to the back of the lot where his fairly new SUV is parked all by itself.

Lucy opens my door and jumps inside, slamming it behind her as I continue to watch Braxton in my rearview mirror.

"I'm so excited. It's been so long since we've gone to a party, let alone one as big as this one's supposed to be." She flips down the visor again and starts to wipe her eyes.

"Lucy, it's been a week," I say before I start my car and turn the radio up. A song Lucy and I love is on and we begin to sing.

The ride to Lucy's seems long as the wipers squeak on the windshield. We don't talk much, which is odd for Lucy.

"Is there something wrong," I ask, regretting it immediately.

"Kind of." She looks out the window and runs her fingers through her blonde ringlets.

"What is it?" I feel as though I should begin being a friend again.

"Acker." She sighs. It's a sad sigh and I can't help but feel a little sad for her.

"What about him," I ask turning into the paved driveway of the small house. The green siding and blue shutters make it look more like a home you'd see in Mexico rather than in this area of Ohio. I park the car and turn down the radio waiting for her to speak again.

"It's just... He cares more about his football and his friends than he does me." I knew it was coming, but I say nothing. I sit and listen. "It's like he's only dating me for sex. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have a guy to be seen with, especially someone popular like Acker. But I just don't think he cares about me the way I care about him."

"He does. I'm sure. Maybe he's just so worried about getting a football scholarship that he doesn't realize he's treating you the way he is." I put my hand on her shoulder. "You know he won't get into any colleges based on his academics." I laugh at that last statement.

It must have worked to cheer her up because she laughs with me. "He really isn't very smart is he?" She chuckles.

"No." I laugh again, louder this time.

"Thanks Ambree. You always know how to cheer me up." She gives me a hug before getting out of my car and slamming the door shut.

As I pull out of her driveway, I turn up the radio and sing along the rest of the way home.

When I pull into my driveway, the rain stops. I smile, thankful. The small ranch looks almost abandoned if it weren't for my mom's car parked in the driveway. The hydrangeas I'd planted last spring have grown so big that they almost take over the entire flowerbed.

I pull behind my mom's car and turn off the hot engine. I get out. The rain has dropped the temperature what feels like twenty degrees. I wrap my arms around myself and rub my arms trying to get some warmth to them.

Sampson, my mom's Beagle, howls loudly when I open the door. She'd gotten him as a gift from a former boyfriend. She claims the dog only reminds her of bad memories but says she loves him. Therefore, he's become a permanent member of our family.

The house smells of cake batter and cinnamon. My mom works from home as a baker. She does pretty well considering. She's always baking or mixing something.

"Ambree! Thank God you're home," she calls from the kitchen. She's coated in flower and rushes between the mixer and the oven. That's never a good sign. "I need your help." She speaks the words I've been dreading.

"It looks like it," I say as I open the fridge and take out a bottle of water. I don't hesitate before I open it and chug down the cold liquid.

"I need seven hundred mini chocolate cakes by tomorrow."

My jaw drops. "That's impossible."

"Only nearly impossible," she says with enthusiasm. I'm not sure where she gets it. I'd be panicked if I were her.

"How many do you have done now?" I drop onto a stool at the counter and look around the messy kitchen.

"Two hundred," she says smiling. "I'm making fourteen hundred bucks on this order so I need them done." She drops more flour into the mixer.

"Great," I mumble. "What do you need me to do?" I'm forced to ask. I feel guilty not asking. I sigh and rest my head on my hand.

"Can you do the mixing and the baking for me?" She sounds relieved which makes me feel only a little better about agreeing to help. Despite the plans I have tonight and how exhausted I am. So much for a nap.

"Yeah, let me go change first." I rush from the kitchen and down the hallway into my room. Sampson follows behind me, tail wagging.

I hadn't realized I've needed to clean my room until I'm standing in my doorway. My clothes are tossed all along the floor and on the bed. Dirty dishes sit on my antique dresser. It smells oddly of old milk.

My room can wait, the cakes and my plans however, cannot.

I rip off the jeans and shirt I'm wearing and pull on a pair of stretchy black shorts and a long, baggy t-shirt. I throw my hair in a ponytail and pet Sampson on the head, who's now lying on my, bed before I head back to the kitchen.

The soap I use to wash my hands smells faintly of baby powder. After I dry them off on a random towel, I immediately begin rushing around the kitchen and gathering everything my mom tells me to.

We work together well as the mini-cakes are mixed, popped into the large oven and pulled out again to cool.

When I hear the doorbell, the last pan of cakes I'm holding almost fall from my hands. I gasp loudly and look down at myself. My clothes are coated in flour and egg. I know my hair is a disaster and I've been sweating so I know the possibility of body odor is there. Someone kill me now, please.

Before I can say anything, my mom rushes to the door and opens it with a large, business-like smile. "There's always the possibility of the doorbell being a potential customer," my mom always says.

I hear her talking before she calls my name and lets Braxton inside.

Sampson comes running from my bedroom and howls again as he passes me.

I run my fingers through my hair and down my shirt, hoping it helps at least a little bit. I know it probably doesn't but it makes me feel better.

I can feel my face heat and I know it turns red as Braxton walks into the kitchen. He stops, eyeing me up and down before he smiles. My mom winks at me before continuing with the cakes.

"I'm sorry. My mom needed help with these cakes," I point to the counter where the hundreds of cakes sit. I speak so fast it's barely audible. "And I look like total shit and need a shower." I sigh and wipe off my shirt again.

Braxton only laughs. Really, kill me now. I sigh again.

"I've never seen you so beautiful," he says as he pushes a strand of hair away that's made it in front of my eye.

My mom smiles as she puts the icing on the cakes. She pretends she's not paying attention but I know better.

"Mom, am I done?" I don't wait for her answer before I begin walking to my bedroom, Braxton following behind me.

"Yes, but where are you going," She calls.

"Out to dinner, then to the movies," I lie. It's only a half lie but a lie nonetheless. Braxton smiles at me.

I'm not only embarrassed enough at the way I look but also when Braxton sees my room. It's not the first time he's been in my house, but it is the first time he's seen me this way and has seen my messy room.

"I have to get a shower. I'm so sorry. It won't take long. You can sit in the living room and watch TV or something." I move around my room, looking for something to wear. It's almost impossible.

"That's fine. Take your time. I'll go chit chat with your mom or something." He chuckles and kisses my cheek before closing my door and leaving me alone in my room.
FOUR

When I get into Braxton's car, he closes the door behind me. The short sleeve shirt I'd decided to wear was a bad idea. It's colder out now than it had been earlier and I'm frozen.

When he starts the car, I turn the heat up.

"Are you cold?" He puts his hand on my arm and tests my temperature.

"Yes. I'm freezing." I put my hand in front of the heater. The warm air feels good on my arms.

"Do you want to go inside and change?"

"Depends on where we're going to eat." I shrug.

"Wherever you want." He smiles. The lovely smile.

"Maybe I should." I look at the digital clock on the dashboard. It reads 8:35. "I'll be right back." I give Braxton a quick kiss on the cheek and hop out.

When I open the door, my mom is still in the kitchen. She looks at me questionably.

"I just need a sweater," I say passing her as I go into my room. When I turn around, she's standing in my doorway.

"Holy shit mom. You scared me." I grab my heart and stare at her, raising an eyebrow. "What is that look?"

She stares at me. Her eyes are hooded and she has on a serious expression.

"Can we talk?" I knew she was going there.

"Do we have to now? I have somewhere to be and Braxton is waiting." I begin to crack my knuckles.

"It'll only take a moment." She smiles. It's a smile that I know well enough that calms me down. I sit down on my bed and look up at her, waiting for her to begin.

"Shoot." I say as I pull on my button up sweater. I run my hands through my dark hair. It smells faintly of the high-end shampoo I'd used.

"Where are you really going?" She sits on the bed next to me.

"Out to eat and to the movies," I reply. It's not the question I had been expecting; I almost didn't know how to answer it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, mom. Why?" I roll my eyes. I'm getting impatient.

"Because you were late last night." She looks down at her hands on her lap.

"I know. Our dinner ended up running late." I know I should tell her the real reason, but I don't want her flipping out on me. Instead, I just don't look her in the eye.

"I know that's not true." She looks down at her hands again and sighs. "I just hope you're being smart about whatever it is that you're doing." She smiles once more and stands.

Feeling as though a weight has been lifted, I stand and head outside. Waving an awkward goodbye to my mom on the way, I finally shut the door behind me and run to Braxton's car.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes, my mom wanted to talk to me."

"Uh oh." He laughs. "She knows."

"I think so." I nod my head and cover my face. "How uncomfortable."

"You're okay with what happened last night aren't you? You know, you're not like regretting it are you?" He drives down the street.

"No. I'm glad with what happened last night." I smile and grab his hand reassuringly.

"You know I love you right?" He takes his eyes off the road for a moment before continuing to stare ahead.

"I know. I love you too." My heart begins to thump happily in my chest. The butterflies in my stomach flutter uncontrollably.

We drive in silence for a while. I stare out the window watching all the small houses pass. It's a small town so getting anywhere in it takes only minutes.

When we pull into the parking lot of the seafood restaurant and it's full of cars. It's now 9:15, which means we don't have much time to eat in order to get back to my house in time for Lucy and Acker to pick us up.

"We're going to have to rush if we're going to get back to my house in time."

Braxton holds the door as I walk through it. We wait in line for a few minutes before we're seated at the back of the restaurant.

I order something I know I can finish quickly and I know Braxton does the same.

"I'm sorry this night has ended like this. My mom is ridiculous." I shake my head and look down at the table. The old wood is beginning to splinter under all the lacquer.

"It's okay. It's not over yet." He winks. "So what book did you choose for English?"

"Romeo and Juliet." I say smiling playfully.

"Nice choice." He nods his head in approval. One thing about Braxton and me, we both love to read. There have been times where we've just driven to the local library and rented books. He's not like any other high school guy out there. There's something special about him.

Yes, he's absolutely gorgeous and into sports but he's not your normal cocky asshole. He's caring. His parents raised him right. He is polite, respectful and one of the sweetest people I have ever met. I'm completely in love with him. There's no doubt about it.

When our food arrives, it wakes me from my thoughts. I was hungrier than I'd though when I finish my shrimp in less than ten minutes.

"Do you want more? Have you even eaten since lunch?" Braxton holds his forkful of salmon just in front of his mouth.

"No. I was too busy helping my mom with those damn cakes. She needed so many by tomorrow morning and she's getting paid so much."

"That's understandable. Are you sure you don't want more?"

"I'm fine," I say looking down at the table again. I'm not usually like this. I don't understand why my mood is so weird today.

"Are you ready?" Braxton stands. I hadn't even noticed he'd finished eating. He holds the check in his hand.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't been yourself today." He tilts his head to the side and looks at me.

"I'm really fine. I'm just tired and it's been a hectic day."

"I don't think we should go to this party. Maybe we can just go back to my house and watch movies or something."

"No. I think a drink will help me." I laugh. "Besides, there are plenty of places at a party to hide." I wink and pull him against me, finally getting my mood back up. I kiss him gently on the lips. The scent of his rich cologne lingers on my clothes long after I pull away.

"You're a tease, you know that?"

"Only for you baby," I tease.

"Oh man." He looks uncomfortable and grabs my arm, dragging me to the counter where he tosses the cashier money.

When Braxton starts the car, we have five minutes to get to my house.

"Shit," he growls and slams the car in reverse. I hold onto my seat and squeal happily.

He presses his foot down hard on the pedal and the tires squeal as he pulls away from the restaurant. The acceleration pushes me back into my seat.

There's something about speeding that I love. It's the adrenaline that gets me. There is nothing hotter than Braxton speeding down the city streets. He's normally Mr. ten and two, never going above the speed limit and pays attention to everything as he drives.

Partly because his car was so expensive, I think his parent's would kill him if anything would ever happen to it.

If it weren't for all my speeding tickets, I would constantly drive at unsafe speeds. I don't care. I love it.

I look over at him and he peeks at me and smiles before slamming his foot down harder on the pedal. The car speeds up. The speedometer jumps. I clutch my seat and look out the window at all the houses that fly by.

We make it into my driveway just as Lucy pulls down the street. The lights are off which means my mom's already in bed.

I can hear the music playing three houses away. Smoke leaks out of the windows.

"Are we ready," she screams excitedly from the passenger seat. Acker is driving. Great.

Braxton grabs my hand and we get inside the car. Acker floors the pedal and the car lurches forward, spinning tires and sending dark smoke into the sky.

"Acker!" Lucy smacks him on the leg. A smile plays on her face.

"Did you win," I ask from the backseat. Braxton holds my hand. He runs his thumb over my fingers. The gesture relaxes me.

"Fuck yeah we won!" He screams from the open window and speeds down the street. Lucy lights a cigarette. The smoke lingers in the car. I wave my hand in front of my face.

Braxton rolls down the window, instantly letting the smoke outside. The cool air feels good on my face. Lucy turns up the radio. The speakers boom, they threaten to explode any moment.

I take the offering this time. She holds a cigarette between the seats. I take it, lighting it and inhaling the thick smoke.

Braxton watches me. When I'm uncomfortable enough to toss the cigarette out into the darkened night, I lean my head against his chest.

"I love you." Braxton squeezes my hand and pulls me tighter against him. I inhale his scent. It's a wonderful scent. I close my eyes and despite the ear shattering music, I fall asleep.
FIVE

I feel the car stop. I jerk awake. I look around me. Braxton holds a lit cigarette in his hand. He flicks the ashes out the window. Smoking is something I hadn't known he'd done.

"Where are we?" I push up from his chest. A large house sits in front of us. Shadows of bodies dance in front of the orange-lit windows.

"We're here!" Lucy squeals before hopping out of the car.

"Where's here," I ask still groggy.

"Somewhere in the country." Braxton shrugs. "It took awhile to get here, you were out." He kisses me. "Are you ready?" He opens the door and tosses the cigarette out of it.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I reply yawning.

The house is big. Very big actually. Cars are parked crooked throughout the front yard. The music booms, even outside you can hear the words.

Lucy opens the door and walks inside, Braxton, Acker and I follow behind. I can feel the booming music in my chest. I smile. It's time to have some fun.

The scent of weed smoke hits me in the face. I scrunch my nose at the scent. Beer bottles clank all over the house. It's hot. I unbutton my sweater.

"It's hot in here." I yell over the music so they can hear me.

"It's hot as Hell in here," Lucy agrees. She pulls Acker alongside her. We follow behind them. After a tour of the large house and its five bedrooms, we eventually end up in the kitchen after pushing our way through hundreds of bodies.

Bottles of random liquors sit on the wooden counters. Empty beer bottles litter the floor.

"Holy fuck. All I smell is alcohol." Lucy plugs her nose. "Shit's strong." I laugh at the tone that her plugged nose makes her voice.

We've decided that staying in the kitchen for the past hour had been a good idea. There are so many people that it's hard to move anywhere else.

Lucy and Acker dance not to far away. The kiss and rub on each other. Jeez, take it to a room.

The beers I've drunk are kicking in. I can feel the tingling in my lips. I bite down on them and the tingling intensifies. We go to parties almost every weekend. It's been a long time since we've been to one this big.

Braxton's arm hasn't left from around my shoulders since we've arrived. It's a little overly protective. I don't mind though. It shows he's taken.

Acker walks around, beer in hand talking to everyone and anyone who is willing to listen to him. Lucy is stapled to his side.

Braxton finally removes his arm from around my shoulders. Only long enough for him to grab another beer and chug it. I watch in amazement at all the people who walk drunkenly through the kitchen. Most are lost and some are so drunk they lean on everything just to steady them.

"This is crazy," I say to Braxton. He's had more than four beers. I can tell from the glossiness in his eyes. All he does is nod.

I grab a bottle of the first thing I find and take a long swig. The liquid burns my throat as it goes down. I cough after I swallow, taken by surprise at the strength of it.

Braxton stares at me wide-eyed. An evil grin spreads across his face.

"Want some?" I take the bottle and tilt it, spilling some on the floor. I can feel that the alcohol has kicked in now. It's on full power.

"Some of what?" Braxton grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me lightly against the fridge.

I moan in delight as he kisses my neck. His breath smells like alcohol. I know mine does too. I pull him against me and I kiss him roughly. This is my man. No one else's.

"I love you," I whisper in his ear as he leans his head against my neck. The heat from his face feels good on my skin.

"I love you too Ambree, so much." He smiles before kissing me again.

"Hey guys! Want some of this?" Lucy holds out a joint, the faint skunk smell floats in the air. Braxton takes it, inhaling deep. He coughs a little before blowing the smoke out in the air.

I grab it from him. Inhaling just as deep, I hold it. My lungs feel pressurized. I smile before blowing the smoke high above me.

After a long time and I'm not sure how long, the room spins slowly. The flashing lights from somewhere relax me.

By the time the party begins thinning out, I can barely see straight. I blink my eyes, thinking the blurriness will go away but it doesn't.

Braxton and I are lying on a large white couch. A blanket covers me. Braxton runs his fingers through my hair. Lucy and Acker are nowhere to be found.

"Ambree!" I hear her call from somewhere. I try looking around but the bright lights all blur together.

"Lucy?" I speak low so I know she doesn't hear me.

"Ambree," she repeats, this time her voice is closer.

"Lucy!" I call louder. She appears from the crowd of people leaving through the front doors.

"We have to go. My mom was expecting me at midnight." Lucy grabs my arm and jerks me off the couch and down the long brightly lit corridor. Braxton follows unsteadily behind us.

Stepping outside the cold air feels like ice on my skin. I had forgotten my sweater inside. I shiver.

I fall into the car, Braxton falls on top of me and groans.

"Oh my God. I'm so drunk." Lucy pulls down the visor and looks at herself in the mirror. I can see in the light that her eyes are red and glossy.

"Are you high too?" I push up from the backseat, just enough so she can see the smile on my face. .

"Yeahhhhh," She says and leans back into the leather seat. We laugh.

I'm actually proud that Acker isn't nearly as drunk as the rest of us, although it still takes him awhile to catch his bearings before he starts the car.

Acker floors the car. The tires spin sending gravel and dirt flying behind us. The car sways sideways before catching on the dirt.

The spinning makes the food in my stomach twist. I groan uncomfortably.

"Don't puke in my car," Lucy says peeking around the front seat at me.

"I'm not going to." Braxton sits up, he leans his head against the window. "Are you okay," I ask. I awkwardly push myself up.

"I'm fine," he replies and turns his head to me.

"You're drunk aren't you?" I laugh at the look on his face.

"Very." He nods. "Acker, how you feeling bro?" Braxton slurs his words.

"I'm fine brother. I'm not even that buzzed." He steps on the gas, the engine revs loudly and the car picks up speed. The odometer reads ninety-five.

"What time is it?" I try reading the time on the clock but it's blurry.

"One," Lucy says calmly.

"What," I yell, surprised. "I'm going to be so grounded." I slam my head into the seat.

"I think we all are Ambree, just try to enjoy the rest of the night," Acker says as he looks at me in the rearview mirror.

I close my eyes and open them up again when the car jerks. Acker grabs onto the steering wheel and steps on the gas again.

The engine revs, but the car continues to slow.

"What the fuck?" Acker slams his foot on the gas again. Nothing happens.

"What's going on," I ask nervously. My lip quivers. I'm not sure if it's the alcohol and weed flowing through my system or not.

The car comes to a stop. Acker turns the key.

"Maybe it's overheated," he says before trying to start the engine again. It clicks but doesn't start.

"Shit!" Lucy slams her hands on the dashboard. "What happened to my car?" Her voice quivers. "My mom's going to kill me."

"I don't know what's wrong." Acker gets out of the car and opens the hood.

After a few minutes, he returns. "I can't find anything wrong."

"What's going on?" Braxton opens the door and stands outside. He looks around.

"I don't know man. Something's wrong with the car," he yells.

I look out the window. It's dark and nothing but thick forest surrounds us. No street lights shine. The road ahead of us is black.

Nothing sobers you up faster than fear. I begin to shake.

"Braxton, I'm scared." I lock my door and curl up against the window.

"It's okay baby. Nothing's going to hurt you out here," his words still slur. He places his hand to his forehead. "Dude, we're in so much trouble." He shakes his head.

"You don't think I fucking know that? My dad's going to kick my ass when I get home!" Acker slams his fists on the side of the car. I jump.

"Don't yell." I call from the backseat. The cold air has made its way inside the car and freezes me to the bone.

"At least we can use this as an excuse. I can call a tow truck." Lucy smiles and pulls her phone out of her pocket.

"That's a good idea," Acker says shutting the hood. He returns inside the car and tries the key again. Click click click. "Because something's seriously wrong with your car babe." He looks at Lucy and shakes his head.

"What? I don't know what's wrong with it. It's not as if I did it. I wasn't even driving," she spats looking up from the glow of her phone. "Ah. I found the number of a tow company," she says in relief.

She dials and moments later, I hear her describing the situation to the deep voice on the phone. When she hangs up, she looks around the car. All of our eyes are on her.

"What did they say," I ask holding onto the back of the driver's seat.

"They said they'd be here as soon as they can." She leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes.

I don't understand how she can be so calm. We're all in deep shit when we get home. I know damn well I'm going to be grounded for the rest of my life. I sigh.

"It's alright Ambree." Braxton pulls me against his chest. Being there usually makes everything okay. Tonight is a different story. Something deep in the pit of my stomach tells me nothing is going to be okay.
SIX

The lights shine through the darkened road. My eyes squint at the brightness of them. Braxton snores lightly on my chest.

Lucy and Acker are cuddled together in the front seat.

"Hey," I say shaking Braxton. He moans and opens his eyes, smiling when he sees me. "The tow truck is here."

He stretches and yawns before pushing himself off me.

"Lucy, Acker!" They both jump awake and look around. "The tow truck is here." I've never been so happy to see headlights before in my life.

I've been sitting here, wide awake looking through the darkness around the car. I've never liked the dark. I'd slept with a night light almost my whole childhood.

I'm always afraid of the things that go bump in the night. They can creep up on you while you're asleep.

The loud engine of the diesel truck stops as it pulls in front of us. We all sit and stare ahead at the dark figure that steps down from the truck and walks to the front of the car.

"Open the hood," he says and slams his hands on the front of the car. I clutch the seat. Something about the situation terrifies me.

Acker pulls the release and steps out. Braxton follows after him. The man jiggles cords under the hood for a little while. He heads to the truck and returns with different pieces and tools.

When he's finished, he slams the hood down again and walks to the side of the car. He shines a bright flashlight in our faces and I squint my eyes.

"Well hi there pretty girls," he says smiling. His teeth are almost rotted away and his greasy, scraggly hair hangs in his eyes.

"Hi," Lucy replies softly. "Do you know what's wrong?"

"Not at all. I'm going to have to tow you to my shop. It's up the road a little ways. I can figure out what's wrong and have you fixed as soon as I can."

We all sigh in unison. I shake my head.

"Okay," Lucy says stepping out of the car.

"You all should be able to fit if you squeeze together. As long as this little lady sits next to me." He looks at Lucy and winks. He chuckles jokingly. At least, I hope he's joking.

I shiver from the cold as we stand outside and wait for the man to hook the car to the chains. He works quickly which is a relief.

Braxton pulls his arms around me again and holds me against him. The warmth of his body is invigorating. I lean against him, enjoying his warmth.

"None of that PDA now. Let's get in the truck and get going so I can have you on your way."

I look at Braxton. He shrugs and places his hand on my back, directing me the way to the truck.

I'm reluctant to get inside. A doll head hangs from the rearview mirror. Lucy sits between the tow truck driver and Acker. I'm luckily shoved in between Acker and Braxton.

The truck is thankfully warm. The heat flows from the large vents and warms me quickly. It smells like diesel fuel and rotten food inside.

As we drive, I stare ahead. I'm confused in the directions we take. Every road is dark and I'm still buzzed so my eyesight fades in and out of blurriness.

No one speaks for the half hour it takes to end up on a long, winding dirt road. Trees line either side of it. Is there anything other than trees around here?

When the trees finally clear, a large old house sits in the middle of a grassy opening. Cars are piled throughout the yard. The driver parks the truck in front of a large garage. Cars sit abandoned inside, their hoods up.

"It'll take me a little while to get this car fixed. Y'all can go on inside and keep warm. My ma is in there getting tea ready.

"Thanks," Lucy says before walking toward the large, dark house. Acker follows behind, then Braxton. I want to wait outside, but the driver keeps staring at me. His eyes survey my legs, then my chest and finally they rest on my face.

"You stayin' to keep me company," he asks licking his lips.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I rush away from him and grab hold of Braxton's shoulders. I can hear the driver laugh as we get closer to the house.

Lucy pauses on the old stairs for a moment before she knocks. We wait patiently for only a couple of minutes before the door slams open.

A large old woman stands in front of us. Her scraggly gray hair is uncombed and greasy. She wears a loose blue dress. A white apron is tied around her waste. Grease and something red coats it.

"Oh, hello," the deep, raspy voice says. "Come on in. Billy out there will have you fixed up in no time." She smiles showing only a few teeth in her mouth. Does anyone in this family know how to use a toothbrush?

We enter the house one at a time. The scent is what hits me first. I almost gag. I have to hold my breath in order to ignore it. It smells like burning hair and rotten meat.

The other's smell it too because I can see them scrunching their noses. The décor is outdated, like something from the fifty's.

The yellowed flower wallpaper has black stains on it. Pieces are peeling off. The wooden floors squeak under our weight. The house has an altogether eerie feeling. I don't like it one bit.

The house is larger than it had looked from the outside. It's taking us awhile to zigzag through the hallways just to get into the kitchen.

A large oven takes up one whole wall. Its rusted doors have thick locks on them. Red droplets of something stain the floor.

Braxton grabs my hand. He feels my hand trembling and squeezes it gently.

"Are you okay," he whispers in my ear.

"Not at all," I whisper shaking my head.

A six-foot table is in the middle of the room. It looks homemade. The wood has not been sanded and the boards are tied together.

"I have just finished a pot of my famous tea," the woman says smiling. "I'm Judith by the way." She holds out her hand to me and I take it. Her hands are dry and feel as though they cut my skin.

"That sounds nice," I say trying to sound calmer than I feel.

"Good." The woman smiles and walks to the stove where a large pot sits. "It's cold out there for April." She walks the pot to the table where she drops it. Liquid spills out and onto the table. "Oops." She takes her apron and wipes it up.

She sits four small mugs in the middle of the table. "Drink up. This will warm you up. It's icy cold out there." She smiles innocently. "I must tend to something. I'll be right back though, make yourselves at home." She disappears down the hallway.

"Okay, this place is fucking creepy," Lucy says lighting a cigarette.

"Uh, I don't think you should do that," I tell her reaching for the cigarette in her mouth. She swiftly dodges me and leans back in the chair.

"She said make ourselves at home, so that's what I'm doing. Besides, I don't think this place could get any grosser."

Acker grabs a mug and dips it into the pot of tea.

"What are you doing," I ask him, slamming my hand over the pot.

"Getting something to drink, I'm thirsty," he spats. "Besides, tea sobers you up." He smiles and takes a long sip.

Slamming the cup down he smiles. "See, it's not poison or anything. It's fucking delicious though." Lucy takes her mug after inspecting it and dunks it into the pot. Taking a sip, she closes her eyes. Oh my God, this is really good! You have to try some." She smiles and dunks her cup again.

I shrug. My mouth is dry and I could use something to drink. I'm not normally a tea drinker but why not? I dunk my cup and take a long sip. The sweetness and bitterness of it equals out the taste. It's delicious.

I lick my lips before dunking my mug again and drinking the rest of the tea from it.

Braxton soon follows. He smiles at me. "Cheers," he says lifting his mug. We all refill ours and lift them in the air to meet his there.

"Cheers," we all say in unison before downing the deliciously warm beverage.

We continue to sit quietly in the kitchen. Loud thumps come from somewhere in the house.

"What the hell is that?" Lucy looks around the room.

"I don't know," I shrug. The tea has calmed me.

"Guys, I don't feel right," Acker says out of nowhere. He holds his head.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Lucy puts her hand to his forehead and holds it there for a moment. "Wow, you're really sweating. Are you alright?"

"I really don't think so." He lays his head on the table and stares off in the distance.

"What's wrong with him," I ask nervously.

"I don't know, but I'm feeling it now. I... I'm really dizzy." Lucy puts her hand to her forehead. I watch as her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses on the table.

"Lucy!" I stand, knocking the chair to the floor. I look to Braxton who is staring at me. "What's going on?" My face grows hot. My eyes feels like they are about to bulge out of my skull.

My vision begins to blur. It's not from the alcohol. Alcohol doesn't feel this way. This feels like... like.

"Baby, are you okay?" Braxton is standing next to me. He rubs my face. "Baby? What's happening?"

"It's the fucking tea." I manage to mumble before my eyes roll to the back of my head and everything goes black.
SEVEN

When I wake, my head hurts. It throbs in pain, each time it intensifies. I try to rub it but my hands won't budge. They are locked above my head.

I try moving my feet but they are locked down as well. I involuntarily begin to shake.

"Hello," I ask aloud. No one replies. It's dark and I see nothing. "Braxton!" My voice echoes. I can hear water droplets somewhere next to me. "What's happening?" I lift my head. The outline of a door is about seven feet in front of me. Only a little light shines through the crack at the bottom.

"Help! Someone! Help!" I try to wriggle my arms and legs free. Whatever is binding them cuts into my skin. I wince in pain. I soon feel warm liquid running down my wrists.

What's going on? Am I dreaming? Wake up, wake up. I close my eyes tightly. When I reopen them, nothing has changed. The room is still dark; I'm still tied to something. I'm unable to move.

My body shivers from fear and cold. Am I naked? I rub my legs together. The feel of skin on skin makes me whimper.

"Lucy! Acker! Braxton! Where are you? Help!" Stomping quiets me. It sounds above my head.

I look above me. Dim orange light seeps through the old cracks of the wooden ceiling. The stomping stops.

"Who's there? Can someone help me?" I use all my strength. I pull my arms and legs again but it only causes severe pain.

I do the only thing I can do. I begin to cry. I remember the tow, the house, the tea... Oh God, the tea! That woman poisoned us. Where is Braxton? Is he alive?

"Why are you doing this," I yell above me between my sobs. "We did nothing to you! Let us go!" I know that's the words everyone in this situation has said but it's the only thing I can think of.

I pull my arms again, knowing the pain is coming. I'd rather have the intense pain than be stuck God only knows where with people who want God knows what from me.

I hear a scream from somewhere. Lucy. The screams are loud and agonizing. They are pleading.

I begin to sob louder. My chest hurts.

"Stop hurting her," I call again. I grit my teeth in pain and anger. I notice the smell. Oh that smell. Vomit rises to the back of my throat.

Please don't puke. Please don't puke. The thumps above my head are louder. I can hear the sobs of Lucy. The tears fall faster down my face. Saliva is thick in my mouth.

Thump.

"Lucy!"

Thump, Thump.

"Stop!"

Thump. Thump.

I hear another agonizing scream and then silence. Lucy is dead. She has to be. I inhale a deep breath. I choke on dust that makes its way into my mouth.

Then the sounds of dragging. Something is being dragged. Rather someone. I bite my lip. I know it's Lucy. Where are they taking her?

I pull and kick at my restraints. I scream at the top of my lungs. My throat feels as though it's going to bleed. I know my ankles are wrists are already. I can feel the blood pooling in a dark puddle under my heels.

I twist and turn my body, screaming out in pain every time. Razor blades. It has to be razor blades. A rope with razorblades holds me.

I thrust my body forward. The large object I'm lying on knocks hard against the floor. The dripping still sounds. Is it my blood? I can picture myself tied naked to a table, blood dripping from my wrists and ankles. I shake my head.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I continue to thrust myself forward. It clunks loudly on the floor. I make little to no progress at my attempt to free myself. The pain in my head is back and it pounds in the front of my skull.

I'm panting from pain and fear. My heart hammers in my chest. With each beat, the blood pools out of my wrists and onto the floor.

I lie flat. My head lolls to one side. My eyes flutter closed. I quickly pop them open again. The things that go bump in the night.

My eyelids become heavy again. I open my eyes wider. It hurts. I must stay awake. I have to stay awake. I don't want to die. I don't deserve to die.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I begin coughing again. The dust in the air is thick and it sticks in my throat. I begin to feel itchy. My skin crawls.

Spiders. Thousands of them. They begin crawling up my legs. I scream and wiggle my legs. The spiders keep coming. I can feel them crawling up my arms.

They crawl up my neck and I close my mouth. I want to scream but I can't. If I open my mouth, they'll crawl inside of me. I don't dare breathe for fear of the spiders crawling into my nose and up to my brain.

I fight against my restraints again. The stabbing, burning pain is far greater than the fear that's overcome me now. I move my head from side to side. The spiders refuse to fall off. They cling on for dear life to my skin where they bite.

I exhale through my nose in bursts. The spiders stay away. They continue to crawl up and down my body. Their tiny legs tickle.

A loud cackle booms from somewhere behind me. I hear chains being dropped. It Echo's loudly off the walls around me. I scream. The spiders make it into my mouth.

I can feel them crawling down my throat where they continue to bite. I'm choking on them.

The pain in my wrists, my ankles. The spiders. I hate spiders. There's someone behind me? What or who is it? What are they going to do?

My eyes begin to droop again. I try blinking. Try to reopen them. They refuse. I can feel the sweat pouring off my chest. At least I hope it's sweat. Is it blood?

I feel myself falling. I try to stay awake but the darkness wins.
EIGHT

When I awake, I gasp. The stale, dusty air chokes me again. The spiders are gone. The burning from their bites is no longer there. I shiver from the cold. I can see the white puffs of my breath as I exhale.

I once worked at a fast food restaurant for a summer job. I remember locking myself in the freezer for an hour. I banged on the door and no one could hear me. I thought I would freeze to death. It was so cold.

But this was colder. My skin is as cold as ice. I can feel that the blood around my ankles and wrists has frozen into a solid.

I pull against the bindings again. They cut through the bloody ice and into my cold skin sending pain that radiates through my entire body. I swear my soul feels it.

A squeaky door above me sounds. I gasp, squinting my eyes. I look hard, trying to see through the cracks in the wood. Only the outline of feet that thump is visible.

Dust falls into my eyes and I blink them. They're so dry. I can feel my eyelid forcing itself closed, sticking to my eyeball on its way.

I sneeze. The pressure tugs at my head and I wince. My body is numb. I don't even know if my hands are connected.

I peek through the darkness. I can't make out anything. Only the door and the orange glow on the ceiling. The boards remind me of a prison.

I was bad and this is my prison. This has to be a dream. It has to. Things like this don't happen in real life. Only in scary movies.

I hear a noise again. Footsteps. I look above my head. There are no shadows there. They come closer. They are loud and slow. Unsteady.

There are two sets. They continue coming closer. The floor in front of me squeaks.

I lift my neck, I strain the muscles there. I begin breathing heavily. The white puffs of my breath float above me and disappear.

The footsteps stop just outside the door. I can see the shadow blocking the light in front of it.

I drop my head and close my eyes. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I hear the door open. It slams against something roughly, which makes me jump.

A light turns on. It forces me to open my eyes. More footsteps. The walls surrounding me are made of old, damp wood.

Moss grows up one wall. Red stains are randomly splattered. A cellar? I'm in a cellar. Hooks hang from the wall. I lift my head and can see a lit staircase that had been hidden by the door.

"Aw shit. What have you done," I hear a deep, booming voice. There's age in it. I close my eyes again, not wanting to see the person responsible. If I don't see them, maybe they'll let me go.

I hear another thud as something is dropped. Feet drag. More footsteps. I can hear heavy breathing. I'm not sure if it's my own, or whoever stands near me.

"Stupid, stupid girl." A rough hand grabs my wrist. I try hard not to flinch as I feel the restraints being pulled out from deep under my skin.

My hand is let go. It falls back into place on the rough bed I lie on.

"Stupid kids. Always causing more trouble than they're worth." The feet stomp away and I hear the door squeak open. It slams shut again. The stomping disappears up the stairs then above my head.

I reopen my eyes. My cheeks are wet. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. I raise my head again; luckily, the light was kept on.

I look around the room.

"Braxton? Lucy?" I whisper their names as quietly as possible. If it was one of them, I don't think they'd hear me anyway.

I'm lying on a wooden table. I was only half-right about the ropes. They hold my ankles down. Glass and barbed wire are wrapped around them.

When I see the dried blood on my ankles, I want to faint. I hold my breath for a moment and close my eyes again. The feeling passes and I pop my eyes open.

I take a deep breath and begin to choke. Oh God. That smell. What the fuck is that smell. I strain my neck harder, looking around the room.

I can hear flies buzzing. I tilt my head as far back as it can go. I scream, I try not to but I can't hold it in. The sight in front of me is one no one can imagine in their worst nightmares.

A body hangs by its arms from the ceiling. The black, clumpy skin is rotting. Maggots squirm in and out of it, making the flesh their meal.

The long, stringy black hair hangs in knots. The head is hanging by only a piece of thick muscle.

The stomach has a gaping hole. The blackness of it drags a piece of my life into it. The tears fall from my eyes.

I tilt my head to the side and vomit. It splatters on the wood next to my head. It smells of sour food and alcohol.

Someone lies on the floor next to me. I can't tell who it is. I can only see a bloody, bruised hand. The red nail polish is chipped.

A finger is missing. The red nail polish...

"Lucy!" I don't care if I'm heard. "Lucy! Oh God Lucy are you okay?" I speak between sobs.

"Lucy! Wake up! Please! You can't be dead. You're not dead. Don't end up like her," I nod my head to the body spinning in a slow circle behind me. I know she can't hear me. I try speaking to her anyway.

I can hear the footsteps again. The dragging of another body that will be disposed of.

"You're all going to die," I hear a faint, saddened whisper. The voice of a child.

I look around the room.

"Hello?" I lie my head back down and close my eyes. My body won't stop shaking. The muscles in my stomach are tight and sore and my body continues to convulse.

I hear the sound of feet. Little feet. A child's bare footsteps.

"Hello? Who's there?" Nothing but a giggle replies. It sounds congested. A throat full of spiders pops in my head. "Who's there? Help me."

A shadow rushes past me. I hear the tiny feet on the concrete floor. Another giggle.

"Who are you? Please. I'll do anything," I plead.

"You're all going to die. There's nothing I can do." The tiny voice speaks just above my head. I crane my neck in attempt to see.

A small girl wears a blue dress. A white bow hangs from her long, greasy blonde hair.

"I'm Ambree. What's your name?"

"Don't you understand?" A smile plays on the little girl's lips. "You're going to die," she screams as she rushes to the side of the table.

She tilts her head to the side. The corners of her mouth are slit. Blood drips violently from the gashes. Black holes replace her eyes. I open my mouth to scream but I'm silenced by her tiny, rotten hand.

"They always die. No one can survive this." She giggles again. "Shh. She's coming." She places a finger in front of her mouth before disappearing behind me.

"I don't want to die... Braxton," I whimper.

I hear the loud footsteps again. They come down the stairs slowly. They have no reason to run.

The door slams open again and I close my eyes.

"I know you're awake. " It's a woman's voice this time. "I just heard you fucking screaming!" Her hand smacks my face and I whimper.

It stings horribly.

"Why are you doing this," I ask again. "We did nothing to you!" I squirm at the ropes; they cut into my skin again.

"Well don't do that now. You don't want to lose those appendages." She laughs a cackled laugh.

"Fucking answer me," I say with hate."

"Oh, such language." I can hear things moving around on a table of some sort. Metal things. Oh fuck.

She stands above me. Her small figure is covered by a large black coat. It hangs to the floor. The hood hides her face. I only see bits of red hair poking out.

She holds a fishhook in her hand. She spins it. The metal catches the light on the ceiling and reflects it.

"You kids nowadays. You have no discipline. No sense of right from wrong." She spins the hook one final time before shoving it into the skin of my stomach.

"No! Please! Stop," I scream in agony. I watch as she pulls the hook, my skin pulling from my body. Blood begins to seep from the hole.

"You want to sin up your bodies with piercing and tattoos," she mumbles through clenched teeth.

She takes blue fishing string and threads it through the hole of the hook. She takes her time as she ties a knot at the end of it.

"What are you doing," I scream. Her hand smacks my face again. This time I barely feel it. The pain in my stomach is much greater than anything.

She shoves another hook into my stomach. This one, just above the ribs. I bite my lip to the point of drawing blood.

"Ah good idea." She turns around and grabbing another hook, she shoves it through my lip. This time she quickly works tying the string to it.

I scream in pain as she shoves hook after hook into my skin. I feel the blood pouring out of the holes. My body is weak.

My eyes flutter again. The pain is unbearable. "Just let me die. Just let me die," I murmur repetitively in my head.

"Just fucking kill me already! I can't take this fucking pain any longer!" I slam my head on the table.

The woman moves fast. She grabs my face in her hands. She squeezes tightly. I think my face is going to collapse in her grip.

"Death is a favor. We have many plans for you and your friends." She smiles before she slams my head on the table. I close my eyes and pray. That's all I know to do right now. I pray for death, beg for death.

Dying seems like a wonderful alternative to what I can only imagine waits for me.

My brain shuts down. The pain is too unbearable. The darkness and escape overcomes me. I'm thankful.
NINE

My arms and legs are free. I twist my wrists and ankles. No ropes hold them down. No glass cuts into them.

As I attempt to push myself up from the table, I realize something big I've forgotten. The fish hooks.

They pierce deep into my skin. The strings are hung in tight lines throughout the cellar. The ends are nailed securely into the wooden walls.

They pull the flesh from my body. I gasp. The stinging and burning finally hits. Suddenly, I refuse to move.

Hundreds of them glimmer from the light. They look like little shiny lasers that threaten to tear me apart.

I scream. The hook in my lip pulls on the string and I hear the sickening sound of tearing flesh. I close my mouth again, silently crying. I'm afraid to move, afraid to speak.

What sick person does things like this? I hear sobbing. Something rustles. Chains bang against the wall.

"Lucy!" She's alive. Lucy doesn't answer me. I turn my head slowly. The hooks give only a little before my skin begins screaming for me to stop.

I see no one. The body that once was lying on the floor is gone. Only the dirty, empty cement floor remains. The banging of the chains continues. The sobs grow louder. Now, they're followed by low-pitched moans.

My heart begins to hammer again.

"Hello?" It comes out of my throat as a dry whisper. The chains still clank loudly. The noise is behind me. Is Lucy back there?

I don't know how I do, but momentarily, I forget the hook attached to my lip. I tilt my head quickly to see what's behind me.

The hook is ripped from my lip. I moan loudly as it tears my bottom lip down the middle. I taste blood. It fills my mouth. The coppery, salty taste churns my stomach.

The body that hangs from the ceiling wiggles. The head shakes uncontrollably up and down, side to side. The hair sways along.

The chains jiggle and bounce, tapping against the wall. Impossible. That thing, whoever it used to be, is dead. Chunks of old, rotten flesh fall from the body and hit the ground.

It's the sound of raw meat slapping. No. No. No. Impossible! I want to close my eyes. I need to close them. They refuse. All they do is continue to stare at the thing that was once like me.

The woman, who once was alive.

All at once it stops. The body hangs limp and the chains stop. The hair hangs in front of its face. I let out the breath I'd been holding for I don't know how long.

A dream. This is all a dream. I'm going to wake up. But in dreams, you can't feel pain. This is no dream.

The body begins to move again. The head twitches before falling to the other side. Its dead eyes lock on mine and it smiles.

The gesture makes me squirm.

"There's no escape Ambree. There's never an escape for someone like you. Or someone like me," it whispers in a deadly tone.

I close my eyes again. I want to go back to sleep, wake up in my bed. I want to die already. When I open them, the body is standing at my feet.

The arms still hang above its head. The closer look reveals a hanging jaw. What used to be teeth is now empty. Its white, pupil less eyes stare at me. It doesn't move, it doesn't blink.

It smiles again before it screams. It's an earth-shattering scream. The force of the noise sends pain to my eardrums. I get an instant headache. My brain tries to escape the noise.

I react before I think, tearing the hooks from most of my arm when I jerk them over my ears.

It begins to laugh, the jaw opening wider. Snakes slither from the gaping mouth. They hiss and twist, winding through the holes in the woman.

"Stop," I scream still covering my ears. "Stop doing this! What the fuck do you want?" My breath is somehow knocked from my chest.

I gasp, unable to get air.

"Please," I say, tired and out of breath. It feels as though someone is sitting on my chest. It feels as though all the air has been sucked from the room.

I begin to panic, inhaling only dry dust into my lungs. I try to calm and concentrate on my breathing.

I begin to feel the temperature in the room rising. It makes sweat pour from me, intensifying the burning of the hooks latched into my body.

I lay still, begging for death to take me away from the torture. My feet grow warm. The heat then radiates up my legs, my arms and to my neck. It burns, like fire.

It's so hot; I begin to smell the scent of burning hair and flesh. I've never smelt burning flesh before but I know that's what this smell is. I'm on fire.

I'm burning to death. This is how I'm going to die. Not in my sleep lying on my bed as an old woman. But by fire in the cellar of the house stuck with fishhooks and unable to move.

I can only sigh. I've give up. I've given up a long time ago. I have nothing to live for. My friends are dead. Braxton, whom I love with everything I am, is dead. I know he is.

The room cools just as fast as it had become hot. The air in the room returns and I inhale deeply. I begin to shiver from the temperature change. This is crazy, unexplainable and just plain Hell.

My stomach growls. I don't know how I can be hungry. I also don't remember what the last thing I've eaten was.

How long have I been here? Seconds? Days? Months? It could be a year for all I know. It feels like forever.

A laugh makes me jump. What comes to torture me now? I turn toward the sound; my lip still bleeds from earlier. It throbs in rhythm with my heart. With each pump, I can feel the blood gush out again.

I'm like a hose with a thousand holes. With each thud of my heart and every movement, the liquid sprays from those thousand holes.

"Are you dead yet?" The voice, one I haven't heard as of yet, speaks happily and low. Where'd he come from? Was he in here watching me?

A rough hand grabs my wrist, pressing hard on my veins there. I can feel my pulse pumping against the hand that holds it.

"Not yet," he laughs. It shakes the dainty strings that still pull at my skin and keep me from moving. "You know," he clicks his tongue. "You could escape. If you really wanted too," he chuckles. It's more of a half laugh, half cough.

He stands over me. A hood covers his face. He's tall; his head just misses the ceiling. He breathes heavily.

"There's no fucking way for me to escape. Do you see this?" I lift my arms a little, showing off the hundreds of hooks.

"Oh, you don't believe me now?" He removes the hood. His head is bald and looks scorched. Large black eyes stare down at me. There's a hint of pity in them.

He has a face so thin, the skeletal bones are seen through it. He smiles. Sharp, razorblade-like teeth protrude from his mouth.

"I think I've been here long enough to know of a way to escape." He brushes long, bony fingers through my hair. A lizard-like tongue floats out of his mouth. It runs along my arms and up my neck to my cheek. I whimper.

The sticky saliva leaves the scent of dirt and rot lingering on me.

"You must be smarter and stronger than the rest." He laughs once more before peeling the skin from his face. Mucous and blood drips from the flesh that he holds in his long, talon fingers.

He waves with the long claws before melting into thousands of tiny black beetles.
TEN

"Ambree!" I hear my name. It's Braxton.

"Braxton? Braxton!" I scream. My throat is dry and I begin to cough. "Where are you?" I pull at the strings that still hold me.

"Ambree! Oh God please help!" He coughs. It's a painful cough. Are they torturing him?

"Braxton! Stop! Don't hurt him!" The tears fall down my cheeks. I shake in anger. This hell has to stop.

I pull on the strings, they barely move before they warn me to stop. My skin turns white as I pull.

I move my neck, stretching it. It hurts but I need to get free. Braxton needs me. Lucy could still be alive. She needs me too.

I bite down on the blue string, my sharp canines bite through it, snapping it and sending it whipping through the air.

It tastes of gasoline. Shit. I continue to chew, biting through the strings one at a time. They whip through the air freely.

"Don't do that! They'll kill you!" The little girl stands in front of me. Her eyeless sockets bleed.

"Fuck you! I have to!" When my arms are free, I work quickly, panicking. I grab the hooks, and tear them from my skin. I ignore the pain. I'll be free soon.

The feeling is unexplainable. The barbs catch with every pull.

Blood squirts out of the punctures and flies through the air. I begin to laugh when I bite the last string. My mouth is full of gasoline and it burns my tongue.

I welcome the pain now. It lets me know I'm still alive.

"You're never going to get out of here. You're going to be one of us." The little girl appears by my side again. She giggles loudly. She holds a knife in her hand.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." I push off the table. My feet land on something wet and slippery. I fall, hitting my face on the hard floor.

Blood. It's everywhere. It seeps through the cracks in the walls. I lift my hands and stare at them. The dark red liquid drips from them in long strings.

The room fills quickly. It rises to my chest. I stand. The body still hangs. It tilts its head again and laughs.

"What's wrong? The blood is on your hands?" It cackles.

I push up; eyes and body parts float on top of the blood. They bob in front of me.

I scream. The little girl and the body cackle loudly in unison.

"You're never getting out," The girl sings. She dances through the deep river of blood.

The door is feet away. It's my escape from this nightmare. I push my way to the door, the blood filling higher each minute.

"Ambree!" Braxton calls. He's just on the other side of the door. I grab the door and pull, the blood flows quickly down the stairs.

It rises to my neck. Blonde hair bobs on the surface in front of me. I push it away. The face spins, Lucy stares at me wide-eyed. Her mouth is open in fear.

"Lucy!" I scream and grab hold of her, pulling her behind me through the deep blood. I hold my breath just as the blood covers my nose.

I drag Lucy's dead body behind me as I head up the stairs. I count them as I rush. One, two, four, seven. I burst through the door that sits at the top, falling on the floor.

I'm in a darkened hallway. Doors are on either side. Locks are hiding whatever's behind them. More darkness. I fear the darkness. Evil feeds off the darkness.

When I look behind me, the blood is gone. Lucy's body is nowhere.

"Lucy! Where are you," I cry. I sit on the floor and rock. I cover my face with my hands, tears fall. What did I do to deserve this? Why did this happen?

"Ambree," an eerie whisper sounds somewhere in the house.

"Who's there?" I look up from my hands. I see nothing. Only the darkness of the hallway.

I push up, walking slowly toward the voice. The boards creak as I step on them. I find a door that has no lock. I take a deep breath before I turn the knob.

The door squeaks as it opens. A small bedroom greets me. A mantle with half-burnt candles is crooked. Small empty tables are thrown around the room. Dust coats everything.

What looks like a hospital bed is covered by a large white blanket. The outline of a person lies under it.

Don't look under there.

I'm pulled to the side of the bed. I don't want to see what is hiding beneath it but my hand is forced to grab the blanket.

I shake and breathe heavily as I slowly pull the blanket.

I see a skull; black hairs stick out from it. The brown discoloration shows it's been dead a long time. A knife sticks out from what's left of the chest.

"Ambree," says a voice, it's a quick, terrified whisper. I halt, dropping the blanket on top the skeleton.

Another door sits cracked at the corner of the room. Something moves behind me. I turn quickly, heart thumping.

My eyes lock on the bed that now sits empty. Throaty, unsteady breathing comes from beside me. I reluctantly turn my head. The skull stares at me, the jaw snapping.

I scream and try to run but the bony fingers grab hold of my hair.

"Get out," It screams pulling my face towards its mouth. I feel heat and pain as it bites down on my cheek. My flesh rips from the side of my face.

Blood begins to pour down the side of my face. It laughs wickedly as it chews on the chunk of meat in its mouth.

When it lets me go, I run. I push my way through the door and run down the hallway.

Laughs and cackles sound on all sides of me. I cover my ears as I run. My cheek throbs from the newly opened wound.

I push my way through the hall, never looking behind me. It's long and continues for what looks like forever. There's no turns, no openings. It's never ending.

As I run, the house seems to age considerably. The wallpaper begins to peel and drop to the floor. The walls crack, leaving old splintered wood.

"You can never leave!" A hand swoops from the ceiling and grabs me. I fight with everything I have. It squeezes my tiny body. I can feel my bones cracking.

I continue to kick and hit. It's no use. The hand still holds me. Maggots and flies swarm the blackened, moldy flesh.

When it drops me, I lay on the floor in the fetal position. I sob, my breath catching in my throat.

"Stop doing this. Just let me die. Kill me, I'm begging you," I plead. No one answers. I know no one is even listening. The house is quiet. I just want to sleep but I have to find Braxton, and Acker.

I know Lucy is dead and this house has her. It's taken her.

I hear whispers. Men are talking. They mumble and chuckle. A light is on in one of the rooms that sits down the hallway.

I hear a woman's voice. She cries and pleads. I swallow hard and begin walking toward the room. I hold my breath to keep quiet. I can hear my heart hammering.

There's a hole in the door that looks like it was created by an axe. I don't want to know. I peek through silently.

Shadows float across the wall. I can hear footsteps. The floor squeaks as whoever is inside moves around.

Someone inside the room sobs. Their crying sends me heartache. I move, looking for a better view and trying hard not to be heard.

Someone is lying on a dirty bed. Their arms are tied with ropes to the sides of it. Blood stains the already brown mattress.

"Shut up," I hear a man say. A slap soon follows. The sobbing only gets louder. "You God damned slutty girls." I hear a drawer being pulled open, then a click.

"Please no." The voice is familiar. It sounds like Lucy but it couldn't be. Lucy is dead. I saw her body floating in the blood, the dead and dry eyes that were staring up lifelessly at me.

"Nothing is what it seems." The whisper comes from behind me. It's the same deep and happy tone I remember from down in the cellar.

I turn and find the man staring at me. His black eyes have grown at least twice their size.

He disappears into a black fog and floats down the hallway. When I return my gaze, sure enough it's Lucy. One of her eyes is missing and blood cakes at the hole.

She's completely naked. Bruises line her arms, legs and face. She lies weakly. Next to her, a large man wraps his arms around her. His face is dirty and his hair is buzzed only on one side.

His eyes are large and black. Blood covers his mouth. I open my eyes wider as I watch him roll on top of her.

"No, please. Not again, no," Lucy pleads. I bite my lip as the disgust fills me. I turn my head away from her screams and his moans that sound soon after.
ELEVEN

I've been leaning against the door for I'm really not sure how long. My eyes are swollen from crying. My heart is just about out of beats and my stomach feels like it's turning inside out.

All I can hear now is Lucy begging for her life. She cries loudly. I feel pity on her just as the man had felt pity on my down in the cellar.

I shake my head at every plead that's spoken. "This is only a dream. Nothing is what it seems," I replay some of the words in my head.

"There you are! How'd you get out?" The woman stands at the end of the hall. Blood and what I'm assuming is guts coat her white shirt.

I can see her face now. It's rotten and old. Pieces are missing. Her face looks like a puzzle that has not been finished. She smiles and shows long, black teeth.

In her hand is a scalpel. It shines in the light from the room behind me.

I begin to panic. Standing up, I run. I try every door on my way. With no luck, I continue on. I begin to pant. When I decide to look behind me the woman walks but somehow keeps my pace.

"You won't get away. You're going to get what you fucking deserve," she spats. Her voice booms from the walls.

I grow tired and my lungs refuse to breathe the air that I'm sucking in. They burn.

I finally find a door and I pull it open. I slam and lock it behind me. The room is extremely hot. I begin to sweat all over again.

The red walls in front of me look like fire. Hundreds of faces push against the walls. They chew and growl. Some only scream. But they all stare at me. Their hands begin to claw, trying to get to me.

"Oh God!" I say, unable to comprehend what's going on around me. Something licks the bottoms of my feet. When I look down, black tongues wiggle out from the floor. Their saliva that soaks my feet is sticky.

"Hell," I scream going from foot to foot. The faces stop pushing against the wall. Their screams stop. Then all at once, they hiss.

"Yessssss." It's loud and long. My heart drops to the floor. They begin chanting together. "Yes. Yes. Yes." I cover my ears. Turning to run, I unlock the door and ram into someone.

I fall backwards into the room, landing on my hands. A pair of teeth bites down on my palm. I flinch and pull my hand from the mouth.

Braxton stands in front of me. An axe is in his hands.

"Oh God! Braxton!" I hug him tightly. I never want to let go.

"Ambree? Oh dead God baby. Are you alright?" His voice sounds distant, distracted. He pushes me an arms length away and looks me over. "You look fine. Are you hurt? Where are your clothes?" I push myself against him again.

I sob into his chest. I dig my nails deeply into his shirt.

"This place is horrible! I'm not okay! I was fucking tortured!" I can feel that I'm soaking his shirt, but I don't care.

"Baby, look at me!" When I push away from him, again I can see the tears in his eyes. He's covered in blood and dirt. "Nothing in this place is real," I sob loudly again. He shakes me lightly. "Listen, we have to find a way out of here! Acker is dead. We need to go, now!" His blue eyes are wide; he's just as panicked as I am.

"There's no way out! We're all going to die here!" I fall against the wall and slide slowly down it where I sit. "Lucy, she... she wad raped. They tortured her too. Look at me!" I run my hands over my body where the holes from the hooks should be.

Nothing is there. I move my hand to my face where the bite would should be. It's gone.

"This place is messing wit our heads. I don't know where we are and what's going on but we need to go. This place has to have a way out."

"Where is Acker? How do you know he's dead? Lucy was dead. I had seen her dead body. But she was alive again in another room. I... It's confusing."

I lean weakly against Braxton's leg. I close my eyes for a moment. It seems to help because they're no longer dry. When I look up to Braxton, he just stands staring down at me.

"Acker is dead. I killed him," he speaks in a song.

"What?" I look up at him again. He smiles. "You killed him?" I stand, still leaning against the wall for support.

"Uh huh." He nods his head. I start backing away from him. This is not Braxton. He'd never kill anyone, let alone one of his friends. I keep my eyes on him as I make my way further down the hall.

"What's wrong baby?" His voice changes, it's deeper. His mouth goes wide. I hear his jaw cracking as it continues to open like a snakes. It opens wider and wider. Braxton's body falls to the floor like an old coat.

A tall man replaces him. Red eyes stare deep into my eyes. They try to take a piece of my soul. I don't let them.

His blackened feet move silently on the floor towards me. His black shirt is ripped and charred. White pants drag behind him on the ground. They're caked in dried blood.

"Well hello there," he says in a sadistic tone. "I must say. I'm impressed. I really did not think you would make it this far." He begins to clap. He frowns quickly after.

"Where's my friends! Tell me!" I shake in fear and anger. I clench my fists. My nails cut the palms of my hands and I feel them start to bleed.

"Oh they're," he chuckles before continuing. "Hanging around." He laughs.

"You sick bastard! We did nothing to you!" I stop moving, tired of the games that are being played with us.

"Correction," he yells. I feel the house stop, terrified. "You sure did," he smiles.

"We did nothing!"

"Then why were you brought to Hell's waiting room honey?" He leans his face in close to mine. "Hmmm?"

I'm speechless. I can't make out any words. I shake.

"I... I really don't know," I stutter.

"Oh yes you do. Thinnnkkkk," he hisses.

"Our car broke down! That's it!" I look at him closer.

The image of a man flashes in my head. He steps down from the large tow truck. He bangs on the hood. He smiles at us before directing us to his truck. "Are you staying to keep me company..."

"It was you," I yell pointing. My finger is inches from his face. His teeth, sharp and way too big for his mouth snap at me. "You brought us here!" I lower my eyes and scowl at him.

"I sure did my dear. And do you know why?" He takes a small step closer.

"No," I say. My lips tremble. He growls like an animal before slamming his hand to my forehead.

I begin to feel heavy. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I collapse to the floor.
TWELVE

I've smoked somewhere around nine cigarettes the past hour. My chest hurts. Braxton is asleep peacefully next to me. His head is leaned up against the window.

I'm still feeling my buzz. My eyes blur in and out of vision. My stomach burns and my lips still tingle.

We've been driving for a very long time.

"Where are we going," I yell to Acker over the music. I quickly turn my attention to Braxton who only stirs before falling back into a deep sleep.

"He doesn't know," Lucy says laughing. Her eyes are red and her pupils are dilated.

"We're so getting grounded." I laugh and lean back against the seat.

"I know right! Shut up and enjoy your freedom while you still have it." She nods her head to Braxton who's now only half-awake. He looks at me smiling.

I know I should be worried but I'm not. Tonight has ended up be so wonderful. Even if we are lost.

It's raining again. It drops on the windows in a rhythmic pattern. We're on hilly, winding roads.

Thick trees are on either side of us. The car speeds quickly down them. The tires squeal on every curve.

When we go over hills, I'm tempted to put my hands in the air. The butterfly feeling floats along with the drop of them.

I look out the window. The moon is bright yellow. Dark clouds hide some of it.

I grab Braxton's hand. I feel him squeeze mine in his. I don't think before I push him against the door.

He moans lightly as I shove my tongue in his mouth. He tastes like beer and cigarettes.

Lucy chuckles from the front seat.

"Don't get anything nasty on my seats," she says but I ignore her. The strong liquor has made me invincible. I can do what I want, be whatever I want.

Braxton runs his long fingers through my hair. I pull him on top of me. The swerving of the car makes us unsteady.

He kisses my neck. I begin breathing heavily. He rips off his shirt. Continuing, he runs his hand over the length of my body.

"I love you Ambree," He whispers in my ear sleepily before her begins to nibble on it.

Flames take hold of me. I begin to pant, wanting it.

"I love you too," I moan as he rips my shirt off over my head. I know Lucy is watching but I don't care. I dig my nails into his back.

"Hey you two, cool it down," Acker turns his head to look at us. A street intersects ours just five hundred feet ahead.

Acker is too busy paying attention to us to notice the stop sign. A car drives down the street.

The family is on vacation. The little girl with blonde hair sleeps silently clutching her teddy bear.

The mother and father hold hands lovingly. Her long, black hair hangs down her face.

Acker presses his foot down on the gas pedal again, the car jerks and the engine screams.

Me and Braxton continue kissing. I pull my jeans off and toss them on the floor.

"Seriously! I don't wanna see your dick man!" Acker grumbles.

"Acker! Oh my God! Stop!" Lucy screams. It's blood curdling. She grabs onto the handle that hangs above the door with both hands. She closes her eyes and screams.

The sound of squealing tires. The crunching of metal on metal. Glass shatters.

The small car that carries the family is blown to pieces at the collision. The blonde hair flies through the air, still clutching the teddy.

Lucy's car bounces. It flips, tumbling down the dark street. I fly through the air. Glass and shrapnel stick into my skin.

Lucy lies in the middle of the street in front of me. She's not moving. An eye is missing. Her finger rolls before coming to a halt in front of me.

Acker's neck is twisted at an unnatural angle. He's gone. His eyes stare dead at the sky. Glass sticks out from them.

I can't find Braxton. Where is he?

I open my eyes. A scream pollutes the room that I'm now laying on a bed in. My hands are tied again.

"Oh God! Oh God," I say repeatedly. The man stands watching me. A smile's on his face.

"God has nothing to do with this place." He lowers his eyes.

I gasp. His words are a slap in the face.

"You see now." I'm not sure if it's a statement or a question.

"I'm dead!" I cry, my body trembling.

"Not yet my dear. You still have time." He looks at his wrist as though he's wearing a watch. His wrist is bare. "Four more hours until they find the wreckage my girl. You're in my house now and these are my rules." He smiles and clicks his tongue. "There are none." He laughs loudly.

"I have four hours until what?" My lips tremble, the words are barely audible.

"You're dead." He smiles and disappears.

"Wait! Wait," I scream at the top of my lungs. My throat feels like it's bleeding. The little girl. We killed her. I remember the tiny girl in the cellar. Her bow hanging from her hair, the gaping, gashed mouth. "We killed them."

I fight against the restraints, back to this again. I only sigh. I feel guilty. Unbelievably, I feel like I now deserve to be here.

I look around the walls of the room. Empty picture frames hang on the old, cracked walls. Black tar seeps through them.

Screams and pleads sound from somewhere far in the distance. There's no escape for people like you. People like me. Murders.

The house thumps, making the frames jiggle and fall to the floor.

Something begins to drip from the ceiling. The dripping noise again. It falls on my face in a splat. More drips. It lands on my bare stomach and legs.

Blood. Is the blood on your hands? The words replay throughout the room.

"Yes." I reply to them. "Yes, it is." I begin to cry again.

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I didn't know," I say weakly. I'm only seventeen. I shouldn't be a murderer at seventeen. I'm still just a child.

Something crawls in my throat. I begin to cough, choking on it. I open my mouth, hacking and coughing.

Smoke leaks out. It's thick with glass. I cough, turning my head to the side where the glass drops onto the mattress next to me.

My stomach hurts. Stabbing pain. I continue to cough. More glass drops on the mattress. Blood begins to drip down my chin.

I stop coughing. The pain goes away. The bleeding stops. I breathe heavily, exhausted.

A giggle sounds.

"Hello." The saliva filled call gets no answer.

"Ambree!" Braxton calls.

"Ambree! Help!" I hear Lucy's tear filled plead.

This time I don't bother. It's not them. Nothing is as it seems. There are no rules in Hell. I close my eyes and wait for what my fate has to bring.
THIRTEEN

Pain in my toes wakes me from a dreamless sleep. I hadn't remembered falling asleep. How long have I been asleep? I only have fours hours left. I don't want to waste them on sleep.

I have to find Braxton. He's missing. I know that Acker unfortunately is dead. Lucy could still be alive somewhere.

Acker died on impact in the collision. I'm still alive which means that Lucy could still be alive too. I couldn't even find Braxton in the wreckage.

Is he alive outside all of this nightmare? He can't be. He was brought here, just as the rest of us were.

He has to be somewhere in this house, but where? This place is a never-ending tomb of the dead and gone.

There's nothing but pure evil roaming within its walls. It feeds off us. Feeds off our fear and misfortune.

"It was only an accident," I blurt out to no one. "We didn't know!" We didn't know, but we could have prevented what happened. It's partly my fault. I'm part of the reason Acker and that family has died.

I'll never forget. If I make it out of here, it will haut me. My friends and I are murderers.

A boy about six stands at my feet.

His mouth and hands drip blood as he gnaws on my toes.

"Stop! Get away!" I kick my feet at him. He only growls a high-pitched screech before biting down on another toe.

His bald head is blackened. His reptilian eyes stare at me. He lifts one side of his mouth in a growl before scattering on all fours to the corner of the room.

My feet throb. I watch as what's left of them spew blood. Someone bangs on the door.

I jump when it slams open. I lock my eyes on the doorway, afraid to blink. The boy whimpers in the corner. He licks the blood from around his mouth and from his hands.

"Well well well," the short, round man says. He wears blood-coated gloves on his hands. He taps his foot impatiently. "Surprises wait at every door." He laughs.

"What do you want," I ask quietly.

"I'm going to have a little fun." He smiles and slams a knife down next to my head. I flinch. The blade catches my hairs.

He rips it from the mattress, ripping hair out of my skull. It burns.

"Ah ha ha ha." He laughs a bellied laugh. He begins pulling the hairs from my head.

One by one, the pain intensifies with each little pull. My scalp stings. It screams in pain.

"Stop!" The round man only giggles like a child. He pulls the hairs out, now chunks at a time. I feel the warm blood begin to seep from my skull.

When there are no more hairs on my head, the man stops. He turns his back to me and leave through the door.

A pile of bloody, clotted hairs lay in a pile on my stomach. I can only imagine how I look. I cry out before sobbing again.

The tears fall down my face but they're not tears at all. It's blood. The dark streaks run from my eyes. All I see is red.

They don't hurt but the blood just pours out of my eyes like it's normal. I vigorously rub them, hoping anything will help.

The boy comes crawling back to the edge of the bed. I wiggle my feet in attempt to shoo him away. It fails and he begins gnawing on the tips of my toes again.

"Stop! Get the fuck away from me you monster!"

Something bangs just down the hall. The sweat pours off me. A puddle of blood surrounds me. I don't know now where it's coming from.

It continues to seep from my eyes, slowly now. My head feels wet and cold. My feet are numb from the teeth that had been chewing them away.

The child jumps on the mattress next to me. He tries to speak. It's only gurgling and different tones. He looks terrified. Looking to the door, and then to me, he shakes.

Good for the little demon. I scowl at him.

"Hello my dear!" He stands holding a cane. He leans on it smiling.

"What do you want now?" My voice is groggy and deep. It's pain filled with a little sleep deprivation.

"I've only come to explain things to you."

"I don't need any explanation. I know what fate awaits me. I'm going to be stuck here in Hell for the rest of eternity for something I had no control over. I wasn't driving!"

He laughs loud and deep. The room shakes. "That's exactly why you need an explanation." He sits on the bed next to me and with one finger, unties the ropes from my wrists. "I like you." He leans his head on his hand. "You're strong. You're a fighter. I'm enjoying watching you."

"Then I guess you'll be watching me for a very long time," I spat.

"My dear," he shakes his head. "This is not Hell. This is simply Hell's waiting room. Hell is much, much worse."

I don't know how anything could be worse than this. I just really hope I never find out.

"That man of yours. He's a fighter too. He's been searching all through this house for you," he points to me with a bony, blackened finger. He leans his face in close to mine. I can smell death on his breath. "You must be some prize."

"Braxton?"

"Yes," he cuts me off. "He's going to survive this. I can tell." He pauses for a moment and sighs. "Your friend though," he shakes his head. "She's as good as gone."

"No!"

"But you, you my dear. You're something special. Denial is a person's most powerful enemy."

"I'm not in denial. I sure as fuck know what's going on."

"Such language from a young girl."

"I don't care anymore. I don't care about anything," I try sounding strong but my voice breaks. "I just want this over with, I'm so sorry for what happened." I take my newly free hands and shove my face into them.

"You interest me. Everyone else begs for life, while you my dear, beg for death." He scoots closer.

"I have nothing to live for," I reply.

"Oh but you must." His large eyes open wider. He begins to laugh; black smoke blows from his mouth and gathers in a cloud in front of us.

An image appears. Braxton. He's banging on doors. Blood cakes his face and his shirt is missing. His eyes are wild.

"Ambree," he screams with a tired, groggy voice. He holds a knife in his hand.

"It doesn't matter." I shake my head. "My guilt is Hell enough. Whether I make it out of here or not. I can't change what happened. From my friends and my stupidity, a family is dead and Acker is in Hell."

"Ah Ha!" He jumps to his feet clapping. I scowl at his excitement. "Smart girl," he says and waves as he disappears into the black cloud.

I jump off the bed and try the door. Locked. I cross my arms and sit on the bed, staring at the door and I wait.
Fourteen

"Ambree. Baby! Please! Answer me," Braxton yells.

I've been staring ahead of me for a long time. My eyes are becoming crossed. The cracks in the old red wallpaper make images. I smile as I try to figure them out.

They begin spinning. People are running. Animalistic creatures with long tails follow closely behind them. When they finally catch up, the animals begin chewing on the people. I swear I can hear their screams.

"Hi," I hear a chuckle.

"Hi." I reply, never taking my eyes off the wallpaper.

"You're becoming one of us," the boy's black eyes look me up and down. He smiles. His knotted hair is pulled to one side. Dirt and scabs coat his body. Half of his face is burnt and bleeding.

"What is one of you?" I'm relaxed. My tone is dead, bored.

"The dead," he chuckles before holding out his arms. Deep, long cuts replace his skin.

"What happened," I ask unable to believe what I'm seeing. He's so young, innocent.

"I didn't want to live anymore." He shrugs.

"Why?"

"I had nothing to live for." He speaks calmly. As though he's talking to his friends about a boring movie his mother had just dragged him to.

"I don't want to end up like you."

"Well you need to make up your mind because time is running out."

He opens the door, that's now unlocked. I sigh and stand, walking behind him.

I can hear Braxton yelling still. He's not far away.

"Braxton," I call lightly.

"Aren't you coming with me?" The boy smiles and takes my hand. I nod and follow behind him.

"Ambree," I hear again, faintly now. "Stop!" It's barely audible.

"Where are we going," I ask the boy giggling. My mood has changed. I'm oddly happy to be here, following this boy.

"It's a surprise." He looks behind at me; worms are crawling in and out of his face.

"Uhhh. Okay," I say as I continue to follow him. My head is foggy. I'm so happy. I'm smiling like an idiot, I can feel it.

The walls reach out to grab me. They welcome me. They're smiling. Haze coats everything. It's a thick, white fog.

The boy smiles and jerks me alongside him faster. I feel like I'm running. My feet try to catch up.

We're coming upon an open door. I can see red inside the opening.

"We're almost there."

"What's there," I say. My mind is numb, gone. My brain floats lifeless.

"Home," he laughs.

"Ambree!" My name being called is so close, but so far away at the same time.

The haze is beginning to clear now. The boy rushes us through the door and I stand next to him.

"Home," he whispers and drops. A black hole sits in the middle of a red room. The walls have the same beings that claw at them. Their eyes are wide and their faces are that of pure horror.

I can hear laughs, screams and howls of pain all around me. Reality smacks me in the face. I gasp, holding my hands to my face as they begin to shake.

Below the darkness, red sand, like lava flows quietly. People are dragged helplessly away from the opening. Large two legged creatures chew on their limbs, blood spewing from the wounds.

They howl in pain and terror, their eyes wide. They all stare up at me, envious. They want to be where I am, even though I consider this horrible. I want to get out and now.

"Ambree!" I'm grabbed from behind. Not knowing what to do, I begin to panic.

"Get off me! Get away!" I hadn't known I was crying until the tears are soaking my cheeks. My tongue is dry. It sticks to the roof of my mouth. My stomach growls. So hungry. So, so thirsty.

"Baby. It's me calm down. Ambree, are you alright?" Braxton pulls me in a long hug. I push away and scowl at him.

"You're not Braxton. Stay away from me. I have to find him." Defensively, I turn and head out the door wanting to get as far away from actual Hell that I can.

Braxton, or whom I'm not sure is Braxton or not, grabs my arm and tugs.

"Ambree, what's wrong with you? Are you okay? We have to go! Now! Baby! Listen to me," he grabs my face in his hands. His eyes search mine before coming to a halt.

"There's no way out. I don't want to go down there. Please, don't let me go down there." I begin to see my breath. The temperature has dropped and my hands become tingly cold.

I move them in attempt to get the feeling and warmth back into them.

"It's freezing." Braxton wraps his arms around me and we walk awkwardly down the hall.

"Is it really you," I ask after a few minutes. "I've been seeing so many screwed up things, I don't know what's real and what's not." I stare at my feet as I walk.

They are dirt filled and bloody. Blisters threaten to pop any moment. The skin is peeling from my toes.

I need to stop, to drink, eat, rest, anything.

"I can't go any further," I kneel to the floor and place my hand on my stomach. "I'm so hungry."

"Me too baby, but we need to get the fuck out of here. This place is fucked up!"

"That's an understatement." I lie on the cold floor, holding the pain in my stomach. I swallow and the thick saliva slides down my throat and into my empty, growling stomach.

"Get up! I know you're hungry, baby I need to protect us. Lucy is gone, they took her. I watched them. It's only me and you now so please, I beg you." Tears begin to fill his wild eyes. "Please," he pleads once more before dropping on the ground next to me where we hold each other.

Fifteen

I forget where I am and what's going on around me when I see Braxton lying asleep next to me. He looks so peaceful that nothing could go wrong in the world.

But then I hear the noises of Hell surrounding us.

"Brax," I shake him awake. "Brax, get up."

"We fell asleep!" He jumps up, suddenly wide-awake. "What's that smell?" He sticks his nose in the air and inhales deeply. "It smells... good." He smiles.

I raise an eyebrow watching him. I begin to sniff the air. Something sweet and chocolaty hits my nose. I breathe in deeper.

"It does," I reply. My mouth is watering, my stomach is growling louder. "It's cookies." I smile and rush down the hallway. I feel a little disoriented, wobbly.

I hold on to the wall for support as Braxton and I follow the delicious smell. He grabs on to my shoulders.

"I'm so hungry," I say, my mouth watering as we come closer to the wonderful scent.

"Me too." Braxton whispers, his head moves in every direction. He looks in every opened door.

"In here," I say pushing on a door. The scent wafts throughout the room. My jaw drops and I smile.

Cookies, different foods and small sandwiches sit on a long wooden table. Chairs are pulled up closely to it. Red candles are lit in a line down the middle.

Glasses of water with ice sit waiting for us.

"What's this?" I pull out a chair and fall into it.

"Food," Braxton says awestruck. "It's a ton of fucking food," he licks his lips and smiles before sitting down next to me.

He grabs my hand and squeezes before we begin to eat. I shovel the food down my throat, half-chewing it. It's delicious, I smile.

Braxton sounds like a wild animal as he chews quickly. I turn to him and as I begin to smile, I scream.

Blood and guts hang from his mouth. The gristle of what used to be someone's heart is hanging from his bloody chin. I hold back vomit.

"Oh my God. Braxton," I slap my hand over my mouth but I spew. The red, clotted chunks splat on the table in front of me.

"Holy fuck! What he Hell is this? Oh God babe! We ate someone!" Braxton's face goes white; he keels over and vomits on the floor beside me.

Our hands, faces and clothing are covered in disgusting blood and rotten human meat. I cry as I toss my hands through the air trying to get the mess off me.

I stand, examining the table that holds glass bowls filled with eyeballs, brains, hearts and what looks like liver or kidney. I scream and slam the glass bowls to the floor in one quick motion.

I gag, trying to vomit the rest of the organs from my stomach but I fail. The taste in my mouth is something I've never even knew existed. Coppery, meaty, salty shit is what it tastes like.

Braxton sweats as he continues vomiting. He holds his stomach tightly, moaning loudly at every new gag.

"Braxton," my stomach aches awful. I hold it tight. "We have to get the fuck out of here." I grab his shoulders and try lifting him. He's dead weight. I groan and bend down, tugging on his shirt roughly. "We're going to die, or go crazy in here! C'mon!"

He finally stands, looks at me with a weird expression and follows behind me. He stares at the floor, never moving his eyes from his feet as he follows me.

I run, pulling Braxton along behind me. I bang on doors and try pushing them open, hoping for a way out. They only contain remnants of what used to be humans or things much worse

We finally come to a turn. It's something new, and something that we should be wary about.

The halls are all different from the prior ones, newer. The scent of old, burning wood floats through the air.

I pause. Braxton runs into me, he comes to a halt beside me.

"What are we doing," he croaks. His voice is low and tired. He sounds sickly.

"There's something weird. It feels different through here." I grab Braxton's hand and smile.

"It feels like we need to fucking leave. I'm really sick babe." He leans on my for support. I do my best to hold him as I creep slowly down the lighted hall.

My heart, for once, thumps at its normal pace. This hallway feels normal. There's nothing scary or uncomfortable about it.

I strain my ears. I hear nothing round me, only my breathing and Braxton's heart as it races.

"What's this?" Braxton places a hand on the back of my shoulder. He holds his stomach still but walks ahead of me.

"I don't know. It's...It's nothing."

"Don't believe that." Braxton's tone is sharp and angry. His face goes hard and he holds onto me lightly as he looks around us. "This place is so fucked up; we don't know what's waiting for us."

He gently pushes open a door that sits to our right. I make my way closely behind him, my heart dropping in my chest. I let out a gasp. I'm not sure if it's from relief or shock.

"Oh My God. Is this real?" I step through the doorway, my heart and stomach fluttering and stand in awe.

"I really hope so." Braxton smiles and grabs my hand. I hold my breath in excitement.

A darkened yard greets us. There's nothing but tall grass and thick forest surrounding us. The wind blows the thick trees side to side. Their leaves make a happy song as we hold hands and walk through the door.

I smile. Braxton pulls me into a long hug, kissing me roughly as we begin to run toward the trees and away from the pain and terror of the house.

SIXTEEN

The leaves crunch under our feet as we continue to walk. The air is freezing, almost unbearable. It's unnaturally cold. I wrap my arms tightly around my still almost naked body.

The trees are thick around us. It makes it hard to see. There's silence except for our footsteps that crunch on leaves and snap a twig every now and then.

"Why is it so cold?" Braxton pulls me against him and we walk awkwardly next to each other soaking in warmth.

He's still wearing only jeans. Cuts and scrapes line his face. A large gash on his forehead seeps blood slowly. Dried vomit sticks to his naked chest. His hair is greasy and he's coated in dirt.

I look down at myself. I still wear only my bra and underwear. My legs throb in pain. The muscles have stopped working a long time ago. I feel my hair. My scalp is sensitive where my hair had been pulled out but somehow has grown back.

Scrapes and cuts run down my arms and legs. My feet are numb and painful.

The house is no longer in view. I don't know how we managed and I don't know what we have done but we've made it out.

After walking for a long time, a growl sounds somewhere next to us. I suck in a breath and search the trees. Seeing nothing, I stop walking.

"What was that," I lean against Braxton, getting closer.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, it doesn't like that we're here. Let's just keep walking."

Braxton walks faster, tugging on my arm. My feet refuse to move, they stick to the ground stubbornly. We begin to hear footsteps, not sure if they're human or animal. They get louder as whoever or whatever is out here approaches us.

Screeches and growls sound, polluting the silent night air. Human screams sound all at once. I can hear pleads. It's as though someone has turned on a television or a radio.

"Come on!" Braxton tugs at my arm again, almost pulling it out of my socket. My feet finally listen and they move.

As we run the forest seems to become darker, Braxton's silhouette in front of me soon disappears in the blackness. All I feel is my hand in his.

"Keep going! Don't look behind us!" Braxton is already out of breath, the puffs of white clouds float in the air in front of him as he huffs.

People cry aloud and I hear skin and flesh being ripped away. Then the sickening sounds of chewing and liquid sloshing. I'm not sure what is happening. But I am damn sure I don't want to.

I inhale deeply as I run. The cold air freezes my throat. I try swallowing but I have no saliva to make. The sounds grow so close now that they overpower the sounds of my ears pumping the blood into my beating heart.

"Oh God! They're going to get us!" The screeching turns into deep, animalistic laughter. It's raspy and loud. Almost a howl but not quite. Their feet snap through branches just behind us.

Braxton picks up the pace, pulling me faster along behind him. Soon, my joints begin to hurt. My body feels frozen. It wants to stop moving, it wants to give up. I'm tempted to let it.

"AGH!" I scream as something claws at my back. I feel the deep nails dig into my skin sending blood dripping down my body.

"Baby!" Braxton yells before releasing my hand. I hear him scream as he's carried away, his gurgling voice full agony and pain. I hear the sounds of ripping flesh as he continues to scream. Then I can hear him no longer. All of the painful screams and pleading stops thereafter.

I fall to the cold leaves and close my eyes. The sounds of the growling laughter circles around me as I cover my ears and rock myself. I scream, making it echo for miles.

"Braxton, no, Lucy, Acker..." I fall into a fit of sobs. I know I'll never be released from this horror. We thought we were free only to come face to face with death. It's our fate. I'm ready to accept it.

"Are you ready to come to Hell Ambree," a loud, booming voice calls over the noises circling around me.

"This is my Hell," I scream. "My regret from losing my friends, from killing those poor people! That is my Hell! Hell can't be worse than what I've seen. I've lost everyone important to me!" I slam my fist on the hard ground.

I'm too weak to move. To sick. My stomach is in knots. Pain covers my body. My muscles are sore. My head throbs in pain. My throat burns. I feel as though I'm freezing to death.

"You're my children now..." The voice booms again.

"I have nothing left to live for," I squeak before large, white teeth bear down and my eyes close... darkness.
Seventeen

It's raining. Thunder cracks loudly in the distance. I gasp, my lungs filling with the moist, cold air. I moan in pain, opening my eyes. Bright, flashing lights, light up the darkness.

I'm lying at an odd angle in the middle of the street. I can't move. I try to speak but nothing comes out. My throat is itchy and dry. My tongue hangs from the side of my mouth. I feel like a dog.

I hear yelling, men's voices. Someone is crying. I try turning my head but my neck hurts. I wince.

My body twitches painfully. My head throbs. My skin burns. I manage a cough.

"Help..." I whisper dryly.

Almost immediately, a man kneels down. He looks me in the eyes and says something. His voice sounds far away. His features are blurry. I feel myself falling. The darkness calls to me. I close my eyes...

I'm knocked roughly. I open my eyes wide again. A mask covers my face. It smells like hospital and stale air. I begin to cough again, I'm choking.

My hands won't move when I try pulling at the mask on my face. It smells... I can't breathe.

I'm pushed toward an ambulance. I can see people standing around. They stare wide-eyed and crying at the destruction around them.

The car, Lucy's car, is torn to pieces. Only some bits of the body remains in tact. Five bodies lay sprawled in random spots on the concrete.

Red water runs off the road and onto the grass. I see Acker. His neck is twisted in an odd angle. His legs are gone. His eyes are closed. I gasp, choking on the air.

The other car sits on its side. The left half is gone and it's flattened. A small figure lies just outside where the backseat used to be. The blonde hair is knotted. The blue bow hangs low in it. A teddy bear is held tightly in the arms.

"No..." I manage before crying. My heart feels as though it no longer beats. It's gone, too broken to beat.

Lucy lies face up. One eye is missing. The other stares dead at the sky, unmoving. Her legs are spread wide, her clothes ripped from her body. Half of her face is missing. Her chest doesn't rise. It's still as my heart.

An older man and woman lay ten feet apart. The woman had been sliced down her stomach somehow. Her insides hang out onto the ground.

I hold my vomit in. I can feel my stomach twisting, threatening. I swallow dryly. My body begins to shake. I ignore the pain as I sit up.

Large hands grab onto my shoulders and try pushing me down. I use what strength I have left to stay sitting. My eyes scan the area. They move side-to-side, frantically searching.

I don't find Braxton.

"No!" I scream pulling off the mask.

"Miss. Leave that on. Miss! Lay down! You're hurt! Do you hear me? Everything's going to be okay!" A man tries holding me down. I nock into him, pushing him backwards a couple of feet.

My legs are wobbly as I stand. I can see the onlookers as they whisper and point to me.

"Braxton!" I scream into the night sky. "Braxton! Where are you?" I walk, tripping over pieces of the wreckage.

"Miss," the man says again as he follows behind me. I fall to me knees and knock his helpful hands away.

"Braxton..." I sob. My hair is wet and it drips down my face, blood mixes with the rainwater as it falls.

I'm grabbed by many hands. They help me stand. I drag my feet behind me as they pull me toward the soaking cot.

"Ambree..." I hear Braxton's small voice.

"No! Let me go!" I struggle against the men. They let me go in fear of hurting me further. "Braxton," I yell as I follow the sound.

"Ambree." His voice is weak.

"Braxton!" I look around once more, my eyes straining to see. I blink, making my vision clearer.

Off to the side of the road, behind the car where the child lays, I see an arm. Blood drips from a large tear in the skin.

I run to the car. My legs are unsteady. When I finally get to Braxton, I collapse onto him. I hold him tightly in my arms crying.

His beautiful blue eyes stare up at me, almost lifeless.

"There's one over here! He's alive," someone calls. I ignore the rain, the pain and the heartache. I hold Braxton's head in my lap. He smiles once before he speaks.

"I love you Ambree. I tried to help. I promise. I tried. I love you baby." He places his hand to my face before his eyes close and his chest goes still.

I scream into the rain...
EIGHTEEN

I don't know what time it is. It's dark outside. I don't know how many days have passed.

I sit staring out the window. The moon is large and bright. It shines down onto the dark street. It illuminates the cars that are parked in the lot.

The fan on the ceiling spins loudly. It sounds as though it's screaming for me.

The room I'm in smells. I can hear flies buzzing around my uneaten food. Trays are piled alongside each other on the bedside table.

I can't sleep. I can't close my eyes. I see the images. The child, Braxton, Lucy...

The white scrubs I have on are thin and uncomfortable. The floor is littered in empty cups and pill bottles. Pages torn out of magazines hang on the walls of the plain white room.

My hair hangs in front of my face. I don't speak. I don't look at anyone. My heart is a black hole.

My soul is gone. It's hiding in the shadows of whom I once used to be. I take the pencil from on top of the empty pad of paper.

I scribble on the walls. I don't know what I write.

I'm barely living, if I'm living right now at all. This is my Hell. My regret. I have nothing.

My mother has come to visit me a few times before she eventually got sick of me not talking.

She'd only stare at me in pity anyway. I don't need anyone's pity. I have enough of my own.

The people I once used to call my friends at school have never come to visit me. They blame me. Hell, I blame myself.

It's not fair they had to die if I survived. I would die for any one of them in a second.

The nurses have finally left me alone. They have no hope for someone like me, someone who's seen Hell. Who could?

I drop the pencil. It clatters to the floor and rolls a little before stopping under the small bed. The bed that has never been slept in.

A mirror sits in one corner. I stand in front of it. I tilt my head to the side. My brown hair is greasy and knotted. It's bunched on one end. I don't care though.

I've lost weight. My cheeks are almost translucent. My bones stick out. My eyes are sunken. Deep, dark circles droop under my eyes.

The large scar that covers half my face is healed.

I scream and punch the mirror, shattering it. Pieces of glass clank to the floor. I fall on my knees and continue to stare at myself through what's left of the mirror.

It makes different shapes. I smile as I pick up a piece of glass. I run it down my wrist, cutting deeply.

The blood soon begins to float out. I cut my other one, wincing at the pain. It hurts but it's nothing compared to what I have endured.

There's nothing like losing someone you love. It drains you. Just as the cuts are draining the blood from me now.

My head begins to droop. My eyes begin to swirl. The room goes foggy.

"I'm coming Braxton... Lucy." I whisper. I continue to smile as the piece of glass falls to the floor and I close my eyes one final time...
About the author

R.A Holmes lives in Ohio with her husband, their dog Lexi, cat Alice and Crested Gecko Illig. She writes to escape one world and enter another. When she's not writing, she spends time with family and friends or works as the Assistant Manager at a tiny gas station. She is a horror fanatic. You can find her on www.Goodreads.com/RAHolmes

Also by R.A Holmes

Cage of the Broken

Retribution

Running From The Dead

