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"You whore." She yells in my face, her breath smelling like my garbage bin. If this was a cartoon my eyes would be watering in exaggeration.

Hair is pulled from my head, strand by strand. The ache deep, but not as deep as the ache of knowing I'm crying and showing my weakness. She takes my hands and grips them behind my back with an unbearable grip.

Her nails dig deep in my flesh, sure to leave marks. The taste of blood, rich and empowering in my mouth, from biting my tongue to hold out my heavy cries for help.

"Awe, the baby is crying." Olivia laughs. "Girls, get the rope." One of her entourage, Cassie I think her name is, take her bag off her back and pulls out a yellowish rope. I mope about how many things she is probably planning.

"Please, don't!" I cry out, "I beg you!"

"Begging just gets more. C'mon, you should know this by now." She chuckles.

"Olivia, I don't know about this. I think this is a bit too much."

"Shut up bitch. We are doing this with or without you. Are you in or not?" She gives her goon an ultimatum.

"I am, I just think is a bit..." I feel a twig of hope, finally even one of her goons are sticking up for me, "never mind." And it's gone. I frown further and let out a helpless whimper.

"Alright, help me with this, now will you?"

Olivia drops me on the ground and my face bounces against the marble bathroom floor. Her hands let my arms go, but I'm too weak to even try to get away.

I feel like a 5-year-old is trying its hardest to hold up a 20-pound weight. Like two pieces of duct tape stuck together, trying to spread apart. Like a flying pig... Impossible, without a storm.

I can't help but think of Carson. He said he would be here for me. He wasn't in school from what I know. I dream to believe that day was real, but I'm sure it wasn't.

All week has been the same. Not once did he come to help. He said he would be here for me. That at least means one way or another. Whether that was before, after or during. But nothing. Each day was the same. No help, no reassurance, nothing. Hot chocolate without chocolate. Car without its wheels. A face without eyes. A clock without its time.

My hands were pulled together by the force of someone's hands, my wrist burns from the contact with the rope. My eyes let tear escape, letting them free fall.

"Tie her hands. She's going into the boy's bathroom."

I whimper at the thought. My heart hammering in my chest. The thought of being in the boy's washroom without being able to get out, having my hands bound behind me.

My hands throb from the pain of the rope, while my feet are set on the ground. My back is being pushed, giving me no choice but to walk to my doom.

My body is pressed to the door and it opens, ending with me falling face first in the washroom. I'm kicked to move, and finally, I was by the wall across from the door. I'm lifted to my feet by Olivia and shoved into one of the stalls. The door locks with a click and I sob.

"This can give you some time to think about how horrible you are!" Someone shouts, and a clank is sounded, acknowledging me that they are gone.

I can't even think about where I am and who might find me. I can only think of one thing.

He promised... And he's not here.

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