Pretty Little Liars: 16 & Pregnant

I'd Like to Report a Missing...Nevermind

*Aria's Pov*

I can feel blood soaked into my pillow. It's coming from the top of my head, the place where A hit me with a metal bar. But I'm too dizzy to move, so the blood will just have to continue to ooze from my head. I'm too tired to open my eyes, let alone move. My thoughts even feel clouded, like my brain got replaced with maple syrup. Of course I want to get out of this jail cell-like room, but I just can't. I don't think I can move if my life depended on it. It's like I don't control my own body anymore.

But what if my life does depend on it? What if A is planning to kill me, and the only way to avoid it is to escape? It's one of the scariest thoughts I can fathom, but I just don't think I can move.

But it's not only my life that depends on escaping. If it would just affect me, then maybe my death wouldn't be so bad. But if I die, then so does my baby. I'm not going to let that happen, I can't let it happen. I'm going to get my unborn child to safety no matter what it takes. Despite my head wounds, despite the concrete walls surrounding me, I'm going to do whatever it takes. I'll walk until I can no longer feel my legs, and then some. If that's what I need to do in order to keep my baby safe.

The first thing I need to do is sit up. That shouldn't be hard, right? Wrong. Sitting up is just about the last thing my body wants to do right now. My body doesn't want to, but I do. I have to.

Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three. The immediate pain that rushes to my head when I sit up is so bad that I let out a small scream. I feel something trickling down my face, and bring my hand to touch it.

Blood. It's gushing from the cut on my head and running down my face. I wipe it off with the back of my hand, leaving red smears on my skin. I try and forget about it, doing my best to ignore the stinging of my wound. I swing my legs over the side of the bed in preparation to stand, ignoring my body protesting for me not to. As my feet touch the ground, I wince. My whole body aches, every joint feeling as if it'll snap at any moment. But yet again, I ignore the pain and stand up completely. My heads spins like crazy, but I don't let it slow me down. I walk straight to the door, pulling hard on the cold metal handle. Of course, it doesn't budge. That'd be too easy. I hurry to the small window and look outside, not at all surprised by my surroundings. There are trees everywhere.

I pull on the metal bars covering the window, hoping that they somehow became loose since the last time I checked. They haven't. I try not to let it discourage me too much. I can, and I will, get out of here.

***

*Ezra's Pov*

I drive toward the Rosewood Police Department, Hanna, Emily and Spencer all riding as passengers. We tried calling Aria's cellphone multiple times, but she won't pick up. We know that this has something to do with A, so we're going to get the police involved.

I sloppily pull into a parking spot and shut off the car, then turn to face everyone.

"Okay so Spencer, are you sure that reporting a missing person is this easy? You just walk in and tell them the name of who's missing?" I ask.

"Well, they want you to wait at least 24 hours before reporting someone as 'missing', but since she's underage, we have a bit more leverage. They'll still file the report no matter what, but they probably won't go all crazy looking for her yet." Spencer tells me. I go to reply, but get interrupted by Hanna.

"Hey, how come you just asked Spencer? What makes you think that I don't know about this stuff?" Hanna complains.

"Well..." I say "Do you?"

"No." Hanna replies "But you didn't know that." I laugh, as does Emily and Spencer.

"My boyfriends a cop," Spencer adds "And I've been to jail. I know this stuff pretty well."

"Yeah, and she's Spencer." Emily says "I would be surprised if she didn't know this stuff." Again, everyone laughs, before we all get out of the car and walk toward the front door of the police department. Just as I'm about to pull the door open, I hear my phone chime. I stop in my tracks and gasp. What if it's Aria?

I quickly pull it out of my pocket and turn it on, my heart dropping as I do. Not only is the text not from Aria, it's from the very last person I'd want a text from. I open the message, dreading what it's going to say:

If you care about her, you'll walk back to your car and drive away. Get the police involved and I'll make her wish she was dead. I don't play games, but if you don't believe me, here's proof I don't joke around.
-A

I open up the picture that's attached to the message, not wanting to believe A's disgusting words. But when the photo pops up on the screen, I nearly vomit. On the screen of my phone is a picture of Aria laying unconscious, blood gushing from a deep wound on her head.

A has her. A took Aria. She's hurt and I don't know where she is so I can get her to safety, away from the terrible monster that took her. Our only plan to get the love of my life back is now completely shut down by A. Those stupid, poisonous words keep playing in my head, get the police involved and I'll make her wish she was dead.

We don't have a choice, A doesn't joke around, and I'm not willing to risk thinking that maybe this time he is. Aria isn't getting found with the help of the police, and A is making sure of that. The blood pouring from Aria's head makes it clear that A isn't playing games.