Find Me

22 • Worried

The pounding of feet hitting the asphalt behind me in the middle of the night is enough to make anyone have a heart attack. Sweat drips down from my hairline, soaking my face in warm water. I need to get out of here...but how?

"Please, help me!" I scream into the darkness as I turn another corner. The footsteps are getting louder, which means that he's getting closer.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head. I' m too tired to run any longer, and my body is beginning to betray me. Slowing to a halt, I hold myself up by pressing my hand against a nearby wall. A few seconds after calming my breathing down however, a hand wraps around my arm, yanking me to the ground.

"No, let me go!" I scream in terror.

"It's almost time Melanie," my stalker whispers in my ear, ignoring my pleas. "The plan is close to being complete."

I squirm from under the weight of his body, my breath coming in short gasps. The asphalt that he has me pinned down to scratches at my upper back, but I try to ignore the stinging feeling it brings. "Stop!" I cry, "Get off of me!"

The man's hooded face leans down closer to mine, his warm, but terrible smelling breath fanning me. I attempt to turn my head, disgusted by his closeness, but he grabs my chin with his rough fingers, keeping me from doing so. "Now Mel, you mustn't be scared of me. I'm only trying to take you away from that piece-of-shit mother of yours."

"No," I scream, "leave me alone!"

"Melanie," he warns, his grip on my arm tightening. I wince as his nails dig into my flesh. "You know I can't do that. I love you, and I can't let you go, not when I almost have you."

A tear slips down my cheek. The throbbing feeling in my arm doesn't go away even after he loosens his grip. I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to wake up from this terrifying nightmare.

"Mom, help me," I whisper in despair.

I feel a sudden stinging in my cheek as my head whips to the side. I let go a small cry of pain as I realize what he had done. He just hit me.

"You bitch," he mutters. "I'm trying to help you and you're still crying for her!" When he slaps me again, he forces me to look at him.

"Don't worry," he says, "I know how to fix that."

Before I can find out what he means by 'fixing it', I wake. Sweat soaks my loose T-shirt so it clings to my torso. At first, I can't make out anything with my blurry vision. The bright lights don't seem to help either, and I can still feel the throbbing feeling in my cheek, although it's fading quickly.

Rubbing my eyes repeatedly, I sit up. When my vision finally clears, the back of my head burns in panic, and I scream in terror.

Crimson stains the pure white walls of the room, spelling out one word over and over again. It's only a few seconds later that Mom bursts through the door, her eyes widened in worry. Just as she is about to ask what's wrong, her milk glass she had in her hands moment earlier drops, exploding all over the carpet. "Melanie," she murmurs, her gaze going from worried to terrified. "Come, now."