Assassin [H.S.]

Twenty Seven

04:49am
Date: April 27th, 2018
Location: Greendale, Oregon

My face is turning red as my eyes burn more with the tears welling in each corner. The lump in my throat isn't going to help me breathe, and I feel like I'm being sucked into a vortex of wind.

Eyes closed, I struggle to escape from this mess. Wishing it was all a dream.

"You're not leaving the car until we're done talking." The aggressiveness from the back of my head shouts so loud that my eardrums are about to explode. I'm getting claustrophobic.

"GET OFF OF ME!" I scream. But there's no release.

The sides of my cheeks still burn, clawed with a sudden disruption to my skin. They have been stung by the whip of a palm that has already hit me too many times.

"STOP IT!"

I can't feel any movement through my arm; my wrist feels too numb to hold it up and fight back. My body is beaten to the point where I can't move out from this chokehold.

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There's no release. I'm stuck between the arms that have done more damage to me than the whole time I've been an agent. Squirming in the tight position, I yell through the pain and frustration that has consumed my entire body.

"STOP IT PLEASE LET ME GO!" I'm losing my breath. I can't feel any air getting to my lungs. I kick my legs against the side of the door to push off.

I still can't breathe. There's no room for air in my throat. I'm being held by a choke that is tight enough to snap my neck.

"NO!" I continue to yell until I lose my voice.

"Not so tough now huh?" The angious voice from the back hisses through the back of head.

The car rocks back and forth as we fight against each other only for me to be held against my will. Why can't I fight back? I'm powerless, weak..defeated. By the one person who made me feel this way. The person who always made me feel inferior to who I was.

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I can't control my wrist or any movement that tells me to keep fighting. My pain tolerance has risen and I'm now on the verge of becoming a dead corpse sooner or later. The taste of metal drips from my mouth and my nostrils, quickly washed by the wet puddle that I'm facing in.

I'm completely covered by the splatters of water coming from the sky, as the thunder storm continues to play within our fight. The one thing that CASTA didn't teach me about being a spy is that your worst enemies come from the people that you love the most.

"I treated you decently!... Better than you fucking deserve!"

The voice echoes through the ringing of my eardrums as I try to bring them back to a normal sensitivity. The rain falls harder, bringing down every drop from the clouds onto me as I lay on the uneven asphalt.

My tears blend in with the acidic water landing on my reddened cheeks. I continue to sob through the lump in my throat, wincing each time pain hits the multiple bruises on my ribs. I can feel my head throbbing from each side of my ear, unable to concentrate. I'm powerless..I'm defeated..I am a burden..

"Sweet dreams, Sloane.."

The figure in front of me approaches close to my view of vision. A dark shadow overflowing with the evilness and assault that has consumed them. With the car headlights still on, the figure's hair turns into a shiny, dirty blonde hair with eyes that turn into dark and dangerous blue.