Stolen Love

18

18

Have you ever been so scared that you'd do anything someone says to do, even if they're the person who caused it? That's how I feel right now. I'm so scared, that I don't know what to do.

He drags me to the side of the bed. Mumbling curses to himself the whole time, "Get your shoes on," he grumbles as he reaches for his. I numbly grab my shoes. What am I doing? I should be making a run for the door.

I don't move though, all I do is put in my shoes. My hands are shaking as I struggle to tie my shoes. I look at him when I'm done. My vision is blurred, but I can still make out the scowl and the firm line that his lips are in. I see no trace of humor.

He tosses me my jacket. I catch it and put it on. It's hard to zip up, when I finally do, his jacket is already on and he is pulling a gray snow hat put of his pocket. He pulls it on over his dark hair so that you can't see his hair. He puts on a pair of black sunglasses as well.

"The car is just outside the door," he says coming closer to me. He painfully grips my arm, "Keep your head down and don't make a sound."

I'm still silently crying, I just have to be such a mess right now. Chris opens the door and looks around quickly, before yanking me out of the room.

He's at the car in six strides, but I'm stumbling the whole way. He keeps glancing around nervously. I'm practically tossed in to the passenger seat, he gets in the and starts up the engine.

Next thing I know, he's doing a 180 and we are in the highway. I grip the door and seatbelt, the car jerked me around everywhere.
His whole body is tense and breathing ragged. The knuckles on his hands are white from gripping the wheel. It looks like he's a first time driver on the highway, but only a lot more reckless.

I look at the speedometer, we are going 90 on a 65 mph highway. He swerves past cars and horns are blaring. Trees go past in blurs, I can't tell if it's from my eyes or the speed. Probably both.
It just isn't fair! Why does this have to happen to me? I wish that I still thought that this is some kind of sick trick, but I'm to old for those.

This is life, my messed up, suckish life.

After about 5 minutes, he slows the car down. His grip on the wheel loosens and his breathing slows.

I see flashes of red white and blue as they pass on the other side of the highway. The police, only they are five minutes to late.

My mouth starts forming words without any thought, "Why can't I just go home?" I cry. "If you want me to be happy so bad, let me go!"

Chris looks like he's about to blow. He pulls the car over before looking me dead in the eye. If looks could kill, I'd be dead. "I don't want you to be happy with them or anyone other guy! I want you to be happy with me!" He sighs. "Why won't you just love me?!"

My sobs get louder, "Because I can't! I'm to scared to!"

He talks quieter, probably getting the message that I'm scared out of my wits. "I could make you so happy, Morgan, if you'd just let me." His voice is sad, and his eyes are scared and brimmed with tears. His rage was just to mask over what he's really feeling.

He's afraid of losing me.

I used to dream about a guy crying over me because he never wanted to lose me. I always thought I'd start crying with him and I'd never let him go.

But it's different, so different. I'm not crying with him, I'm crying because of him. And I want to leave. Part of me wants to see him thrown in a metal box and locked away and hidden forever, but the weaker more emotional side of me wants to hold him. To be the shoulder for him to cry on, to be the one who soothes the tears away.