Riley Carmichael is a smart, spunky girl who can handle herself. She has a twin brother Danny, a football player, a girl getter. They move to a small town to hopefully settle down. Growing up moving all over you would wish that too.
But together Ril...
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Rick Bowgotie
~Chapter Eight~
"I will send someone to get you for dinner." After hours of kick boxing, and then having me punch the crap out of a punching bag, Beckett said we were done and he would take me back to my brink.
Is that what it's called? I thought it was a cell.
He put in a passcode, and the door slid open. Walking in, it impatiently closed behind me. It made me jump. I stared at the plain space.
I have to find some way to get out of here. I need to get Danny.
Thoughts of what could be happening to him started filling my mind.
I very painful pang in my chest caused me to flinch.
I've never felt anything like it before.
Another one came, but in my stomach. I lurched over in pain. Another one came harder, on the same place. I held onto the small table in the corner for support.
It stopped and I sighed a breath of relief. Recovering from the strange pangs, I let go of the table and walked over to the shower.
I hesitated before continuing. I turned towards the clear glass door. What if someone walks by while I'm showering?
I turn back to the shower. The glass has a foggy texture, so you wouldn't be able to see clearly through it.
But It definitely won't leave anything for the imagination.
I'm not embarrassed about my body, but I don't want some man to stop and guak at me.
I had an idea. My hands went to my hair to search for any bobby pins I might have. I found two.
I quietly squealed. I looked at the small bed in the corner. There was a small white fleece blanket draped across the end of it.
I ripped it off and walked to the glass door. Reaching up as far as I could, I wasn't tall enough to reach the top of the door.
I grabbed the metal chair, from under the table.
Standing on the wobbly chair, I pushed one of the bobby pins through the cotton fabric. I used the end of the bobby pin like a tac, push down hard on it to go into the wall, right where the wall meets the silver metal around the glass door.
My dad always told me that that's the weakest point in the whole construction. "No matter how perfect the measurements are, there will always be a gape between the sheetrock and the door frame. They may not admit it, but engineers are almost always idiots." He explained, a smile on his face.
Remembering my fathers words brought me weird feelings. I don't know wether I'm angry or sad. He lied- but about what? He didn't tell us that he was apart of- what ever the hell this is.
