A Girl Named Her

The Girl Named Her

I walked through the door frame of her house. The smell of alcohol is overpowering. People shout as they see me walking towards the kitchen, as I had to walk through the living room and dining room. The crowds of people were overwhelming. It felt like a boa constrictor tightening around my neck. I squeeze past the groups and make it to the kitchen. I see the keg and grab myself a red solo cup. I turn the nozzle and the alcohol flows like a waterfall. I fill my cup and look for the one person I came to see. I am not the “social” type, and definitely not a leader. I am just a normal 17 year old.

I spot her. Her gorgeous blonde hair flowing over her shoulder. She is holding a red solo cup, like mine, and it seems empty as she tosses it around like an old rag doll. I walk back to the kitchen and grab another cup. She is going to love this, I think to myself. I almost overfill the cup because of my daydreaming. I take a sip from the cup to make sure it is the perfect height. Perfect for her. I walked back to the living room and see her, now sitting on the sectional. I casually walk over and hold out the red solo cup.

“Thanks, Sam!” she half screams over the chatter of the party. Her voice sounds like an angels. So soft, so elegant.

“Su-sure” I say back to her. I see a spot open on the couch beside her, so I sit. She lays her hand on my thigh, and I feel a tingle up my spine. Not a bad tingle, a soft, gentle tingle. I haven’t felt this tingle in a long time. Its overwhelming. I spring up and go to the bathroom. The framed pictures on the walls catch my eye. I rush to the marbled sink splash water on my face from the sink. The coldness soothes me. I walk out the bathroom and back into the living room. She is now standing, her black tank top and black leggings now visible, and is looking concerned.

“What’s wrong? You went out in such a hurry.”

“Oh um, no I’m fine just really needed to, erm, use the bathroom.” I say, bluffing.

“Okay, um, do you want to go upstairs?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say, trying to be cool. On the inside I am screaming. She smirks and starts walking towards the stairs. I follow, like a dog on a leash. She leads me to her room, passing another bathroom and her parents master-bedroom. Her room is covered with posters. Her favorite band, Fall Out Boy, plastered on her silk white walls. I take a sip from my beer before I set my cup down. It tastes funny. Cheap. I set my red solo cup on her desk to the west wall, right below Patrick Stump’s head.

“Have a seat on the bed,” she says. I sit, not wasting a second. The bed feels sturdy, and very comfortable. She sets her cup right beside mine. She makes her way over to the bed, very sultry. She sits right beside me, almost on top of me. She leans over and kisses my cheek. Her lips are so soft. My vision is shortened to a pin-hole. What is happening to me? She continues to kiss me, moving to my lips, very sly. My body, it doesn’t feel the same. I start losing feeling in my legs, and it is traveling up, fast. I try to push her away, but she won’t. I try to shout, but i can’t. My mouth, it’s numb. I fall back onto the bed, not being able to sit up anymore.

“What the hell are you doing? Don’t you want this?” she yells. I cannot respond. She then starts to sit on the bed again, and her voice, muffled, says something I cannot understand.

“Where the hell am I,” I say, now able to talk. I passed out, the last thing I remember is laying on the bed, not able to talk or stand. It was dark, the only source of light was a stray window in the far corner of the room. The sun was setting. And I have no idea where I am. I hear a voice in the corner of the room.

“Sam? Is that you? What the hell is going on? What did you do to me?”

“I-I did nothing. Who are you?” I ask, terrified.
It was her. She crawls into the dim light. Her hands are bound by thick, metal chains. Mangled, her face has blood streaks all over it.