1972

Chapter Fifteen

Heavy foot steps walk across the floors and the handle to the closet jiggles. I hold my breath pushing myself into Ivor's chest somehow feeling like I disappeared. Malinda tucks her legs in and stays completely still as the door creaks open. The light cut through the darkness we were formally sitting in, but our shadows did not cast. This made me feel hopeful more than anything.

Stepping into the closet to get a better look my chest tightens. The heavily built mans back is to us but Malinda's scream cuts through louder than an unwanted alarm clock. Standing up with the pan gripped tightly into my hand a loud thud comes from when I hit him in the back of the head. Running I almost loose balance and Ivor steadies me as we follow Malinda out the door. A harsh light gets casted down at us and I shield my hands above my eyes.

What was staring us in the face was a semi produce truck with an engine that roared. It started towards us in full speed and with out doubt we all started running. My throat came horsed and my chest burned, nobody knew where we were going but my heart felt as if it was jumping out of my chest. Loud cackles surround us and some of the men would jump out into our faces. Ivor got a fist full of what seemed to be,female hair and tossed her to the side like a rag doll. Malinda was balancing her diamonds I assumed, and I was left getting unknown blood sprayed on me like this was war.

Suddenly Bobby Vinton's Mr. lonely comes into my head and I can't help picturing this moment . It was like we were in some banned silent movie with a loud film score attached to it. I don't think about death, but I think about the sex. I don't think about "Evil Tom" or "Viperous Malinda". I think about stabbing Jack and smiling when I did it. In the end I felt more barbaric then human. Is dehumanizing ourselves really worth surviving, or was it better to die? Soon Malinda and even Ivor will be people I ounce knew in another life. Is any of this really worth it?