In The Scenes

Eleventh

WARNING: May be mentions of abuse, panic attacks, trauma, blood, etc. If you are sensitive to these topics, please don't read.

Lia POV:

We were in front of the college. It was 5 p.m., and everyone was already home. We volunteered to stay back and do some filing. Now, we're heading to a coffee shop. It's cloudy and cold. A warm cup of coffee would hit the spot.

"What the . . . "

I noticed a car. I looked at the license plate. The same vehicle followed us the day Alex saved my life. I told Alex. He looked worried but told me to keep walking. We were about to turn when someone grabbed me and hit my head, causing me to faint. When I woke up, I noticed I was tied to a pole. Next to me was someone bleeding.

"Hello?"

The person turned to me.

"Hey."

I didn't know what to think. Alex had bruises and cuts all over him.

"Can you come here?"

He shuffled over to me and put his head on my shoulder.

"How long have we been here?" I asked.

"A week."

It felt like a couple of hours.

"Did they knock you out?"

"No. They . . . they brought me here. I think they work for your stepfather."

"What did they do to you?"

"It . . . it doesn't matter."

I hugged him. The door in front of me opened, and a man stood in front of us. He looked at Alex and me. I glared at him.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I say hello to my stepdaughter?"

Alex POV:

The man pulled me up and threw me back to where I originally was. I winced in pain. I should've just shut up.

"Was that a cry for help? There is no help here. Boys, take him."

I was pulled up and dragged into a room.

"How much do you think they'll make you bleed this time?" one guy asked me.

"Probably a solid 2 liters give or take a couple of fluid ounces," the other guy said.

"You're lucky we aren't the ones beating you up every day," the first guy said. "You know who cleans up the blood once you're done? Us. We don't want to, but those people of yours . . . they're scary. Don't want to get on their wrong side, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah. Don't want to end up like this boy here," the second guy said as we stopped at the door.

They opened it and laid me on a table. They were tying me up when another pair of footsteps came.

"Good job, boys. You can leave now," my ex-foster mother said.

The men left, and I was alone with her. She was holding a knife, but I wasn't sure if that was for threatening purposes or if she would use it. I heard someone enter, and my breath hitched when I recognized his voice.

"Look what the cat dragged in," my ex-foster father said. He turned to his wife. "Let's have a little fun with him. What do you say?"

A blindfold was put on me.

"Don't move."

I didn't. I couldn't. I just took the pain. I took the blood, the cuts, and everything else that came with being tortured. As soon as it finished, I was untied, and they left. I took off my blindfold and walked back to Lia. She was untied and had a cut on her cheek.

"Hey. Come here."

I sat next to her and hugged her.

"What did he want with you?"

"Nothing. He was asking me to work with him. Obviously, I declined."

I looked outside. It was dark.

"I want to leave."

Lia pulled me closer.

"Same."