What A Wonderful Nightmare

Désespoir

TW: violence, blood, guns and abuse

One week. Clay had been missing for one. whole. week. Nobody knew where he could be, and the police were no help at all. The boys tried to convince the police to scan the truck for fingerprints, to start a search party, or even to say something on the news about it to spread awareness. They did none of it. They claimed he was probably a run away who caught a ride with someone as to not be tracked. They did check the security cameras. They saw Clay leave with three bags of groceries and then turn around the corner into an area the camera couldn't catch, which was also where he had parked. The groceries weren't left in the car, giving the police more excuses as to why they claimed it a run away case and not a missing person case. George wasn't coping well. He was barely eating and spent most of his time walking around town for signs of Clay. Sapnap was coping better, but that was mostly due to his ability to hold his emotions in with ease. Nobody knew where he could be, and their last thought was that George's aunt was involved or even the sole culprit. A week. A whole week. No 6'3 blonde boys with piercing green, well yellow to George, eyes.

Clay's POV

Drip. Drip. Drip.

That's what Clay felt as blood trickled down his face and onto his right hand. The devilish women had been anything but kind to the boy. A small but deep cut on his right cheek caused by a knife of which was held to his once soft skin. Bruises all over his arm's and his chest from being hit when he attempted to show any form of resistance. A black eye, his left one, from being slammed into a table head first when he had arrived to the house. Despite all the torture and trauma Clay was experiencing, there were two major things keeping him going. One, Sapnap. He had just gotten his best friend back after many years. He couldn't leave him again so soon. He hadn't even gotten to tell him everything he needed to, like his mom's death. He broke his heart once, it would be awful to do it again. Two, George. He had just spent the most amazing night with the small boy. They had finally gotten together. They hadn't even told anyone yet, they weren't granted the time. Pictures of George were hung up in the house. The aunt had stupidly taken him to her own house. This was dumb for so many reasons Clay didn't even realize yet. The one he knew right away though, was that the many pictures were what was keeping him going. Anytime he felt like just letting himself die he would look up at the pictures of George, they were mostly younger ones but still, they would give him just enough motivation to keep pushing forward. 

"The cut burns, doesn't it?" The aunt laughed, modeling the knife in her hands and sliding her fingers across it. Acting as if it was a beautiful thing that she had done. It wasn't.

"No." Clay lied, spitting at her shoes from the chair he was tied up in.

The aunt spit back, the disgusting glob of saliva hitting Clay's wound. It stung like hell. She than walked out of the room.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Clay wiggled in his chair, trying his best to free at least one limb. An unsuccessful effort of course. He had another idea though, one he hadn't tried yet. His legs were tied to the legs of the chair, and his arms to the arms of it. He could barely stand on his tippy toes, but managed to do so slowly. He saw something in a movie once, a long time ago while his mother was still alive and well. A women had been tied up in the exact way he currently was. To escape, she had stood up and smashed the chair by jumping and hurling herself back. That was a movie though, an unrealistic strategy. It was worth a shot though, maybe it would at least break one of the extensions his limbs were tied up to. 

Jumping is gonna be the hardest part, I can't really bend my knees well while on my toes like this. I'll have to be quick if I want any chance of this working.