Old Dirty T-shirt

Taken

Marilyn's POV

My eyes skimmed around the darkened streets of Downtown Los Angeles, definitely wasn't the place to be at this time of night. The intoxicating smell of drugs clouded up my lungs, making me cough quietly as I continued along.

Where I was going I hadn't known, I just wanted out of my dad's house. Let's just say he got a bit violent when he was around alcohol, not one of his strongest points.

Dim street lamps lit up the small walk way, the lingering echo of my shoes pattering against the cement. It was quite cold outside considering it was early July, but weather was just as unpredictable when in comparison to life.

My dad never really was a drinker until him and my mother split due to differences, guess that's how he delt with his sorrows. Worse part was when he'd wake up in the morning, he'd pretend nothing had happened, despite his recognizable hangover.

The streets were lined up with a variation of traffickers, to homeless men gathering what they could to salvage. I kept to myself, knowing what would most likely happen if I were to something to catch someones eye.

I kept my arms wrapped around my body in a firm hold as my legs carried me along wherever they were headed; I just needed to get away. I never was keen on living in the city, the noise of it all almost unbearable. Taking in mind that my father didn't own a home on the nice side either, I almost always lived in constant fear of getting myself in a rather violent predicament.

My head tilted towards the left as I took note of my location, the brisk night air spilling from my mouth in a puff of steam. No worry was set in my mind seeing as it was strangely quiet, the anxiety of it all flooding from my body; secluded.

Or so I thought.

I was stopped short when I noticed a darkened figure about fifty feet infront of me, my heart hypothetically jolting from my chest. I stood still as I tried to make out the figures face, but it was no use.

I turned from my heel to proceed back from where I came, only to be accompanied by the fast paced sound of steps directly behind me. "Shit." Was all I could manage out before I felt a hand snake around my waist, pulling me back hard against his chest.

His body was cold and uninviting, making me shiver under demand. He placed the palm of his hand against my mouth as he began to tug me back into the darkness, where I had presumed myself safe almost moments earlier.

I attempted to pull free from the unidentified mans grip, smothered cries of help dispersing into his hand. Now fully profound into a secluded and darkened alley, he let his lips graze my ear. I cringed in fear, turning my head to the side in response.

The thick stench of alcohol lingered on his breathe, the eroticy of the tinged smell driving my eyes closed unwillingly. The last thing I remember before the world slipped from my eyes was the faint whisper of his calming voice, both thick and low. "I'm sorry."