Faked Deaths

Chapter 2

He pulls up to my apartment building, but I refuse that he gets out. No way in hell would I let a stranger know exactly where I live. I would've completely lost the mind that I somewhat lost letting him drive me home. "Thank you," I smile and hurry up inside as it begins to rain without waiting a response from him.

I stick my head under the window, and expose my self to the moist weather of California. It rained and it soothed my soul. Putting someone on a rope to climb to the top to get to me is fun. It boosts my confidence and shows me that even a girl like me can keep a guy like that on his toes.

I walk through the tiny and cramped halls of my mom and I apartment we managed to rent. We decided it was best to separate from the family. Or so my mom says. The night before I over heard, the step monster that if they were going to move in we couldn't stay. Okay, so maybe Katherine wasn't really lying about her, but she was being dramatic.

My mind was filled with thoughts and dreams of being with Andre. I knew it was a slim chance I'd see him again, but it was hard to say I couldn't. I kept believing I would. My mother always told me. "Don't go looking for a boy, let the boy come looking for him." She never told me what to do after the boy found you.

I take a right into our storage room and look around at all the boxes we have managed to keep over the years with barely any space at all. I look over to the box that has my name written in block letters. I smile, my box full of memories.

I remember my father writing the name saying. "My little angel, this is for you, your box that is soon to be full of memories." I remember me smiling wide and his rough hands pinching my chubby cheeks. Why do I remember these things? It was the last time I had saw my father. The last time I saw my siblings, whom I still to this day have no idea where they are.

I walk over to the box and open it. Dust fills the room as I wipe it off, so I wont inhale any. The first thing I see is my old teddy bear. I smile and hug it tight. I go a rummage through it finding old pictures of me. I smile as I look at the picture with me smiling without my two front teeth.

I look at an old picture Sophia gives me when she was seventeen. She said that if I ever wondered when I got older, that's was once what she looked like. I laughed at the picture. Hard even. Also at the fact, her boyfriend, he was very good looking innocent blue eyes. I wished, no I hoped, my boyfriend could look something like hers. "David, his name was David Crenshaw." Her voice echoed in my head, the stories she told echoed in my head. "He was my first love, before Jeremy."

I pick up a picture of Sophia and me when I was ten. The week before she died. My heart drops as I stare into the picture. Right by the window where we took the picture at, there was her blood all over. I've never seen that much blood in my lifetime. I look close into the picture studying her face. Trying to remember and trying to think what she would look like now, seven years later now that she is dead.

I look around the picture noticing we changed the furniture around. I laugh at the picture right behind me and Sophia of a crying Katherine, "Times have not changed," I laugh. I look one more time and my heart skips a beat. A man. Dark, mysterious, someone familiar. "Dad," A tear falls from my eyes. I felt something hit me in my head and everything went pitch black.

* * *

I'm falling, not at constant speed. I'm free falling, I can feel the breeze through my fingers and looking down and not seeing where I was going to fall. Visions of my father filled my head and then I woke up.

I blink my eyes hard, then again. I look around and notice I'm in my room. Thank God. "It was probably just a dream, Lexi, you got this." I say out loud to reassure myself. My head is pounding fast and giving me excruciating pain. I look at my pillow that is stained with dark red. I rub my head, and feel something warm and moist. I look at my hand and see blood. I scream loud and tears stung my face.

I try to get up then the handcuffs that are wrapped pull me down around my left arm on my headboard. "Somebody Help!" I scream for help. Tears fall down my face. I exhale then inhale trying to gain security over myself. Then I think hard, my mom wasn't going to come home because she had to stay the night and better yet she doesn't have a cell phone. I scream for help again but I know it would waste my energy and it's not worth it. My screams soon turn to whispers, then to unconsciousness again.

* * *

I wake up again. This time promising myself I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't let one tear escape from my face. The tears from the hours I cried stained it. I heard a creak at the door, one I've never noticed before. Until now that it matters who comes in and who makes it out. I look up to the door and see someone with a woman's mask on. I know the face. It was Sophia. "Sophia." I say breathless. I look at the body and instantly know it's a male. I stare at the bag he's carrying as he sets it on my night stand with out a word.

"Look," I manage to cough out. "You... you don't want to hurt me." I hold in the tears that were bound to come out.

"No?" He chuckles. A evil chuckle, one you only hear in the horror movies, the ones I was always to scared to finish because I always knew how it was going to end. Evil Guy always kills Pure Girl. He opens the bag and has scissors, knives, a drill, needles, hammers and screws. "Why is that?"

I think hard. I don't want to say the wrong thing, because then he'll make me suffer. If I say the right thing, he won't. "You don't know my story." I say with as much enthusiasm as I could in the position I am in. He pushes the drill making the noise loud and hard and eager. Like all his life, all he has ever done was kill. "Before, you kill me, don't you want to know my story, it would make you even better when you watch me die, you'll feel better that you did it, right?"

He bites his lips and smiles. The man places the drill back on the dresser. He caresses my hair, the my cheek. "Sweet, sweet Alexandria, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to torture you that are what satisfies me. What makes me smile before I sleep at night." He smiles. I hold my breath.

"Yet," I exhale. "I'm willing to give it a try to listen to your story. But let me ask you a quick question. Do you love your hair?" What if I say no? What would he do. He begins to shake, I know I have to answer before everything goes wrong. So I nod. I think yes before no. I see the mask move, showing he was smiling. That it was amusing him that I loved my hair.

The hair that was down my back, the hair I never let anybody touch. The only thing I had to connect with my mom. The only personal conversations we had. Had something to do with our hair. I'm wishing I would've told her I loved her and about our relationship.

Another man walks in the room. "The plan is to torture her, Red Eagle. Not to socialize." This one didn't have a mask on. He looked innocent. He had innocent blue eyes. Pale skin. He was a white man, he was middle aged. I look back at the 'Red Eagle'. He puts up signs two, one, and two. Innocent eyes give a nod of approval.

"Red Eagle, what does that mean?" I ask panicking. He reaches to the bag and pulls out a needle.

"Stay still," He says with a deep voice as I try to get loose of his grip.

He pokes my vein with the needle. Then I struggle to stay awake. He takes off his mask. Then I blink again. Before my eyes close all the way again I see him unbuckle his pants. "No," I whisper. 212, it means Red Eagle is going to rape me. A tear falls down my cheek. I broke my promise.