Maysa Maryn always goes to her spot at the lake, in the woods. One day she meets a young couple, who are on a camping trip and a few kids her age start to disrupt things and terrorize the young couple. She finally finds the courage within her to spe...
My eyes land on Steve, who is tied to a wooden pole with barbed wire, in the middle of a clearing. He has several cuts from the wire and he's covered in blood. I watch with tears in my eyes, not able to move since Ricky holds a firm grip on my arm.
"People know that we're here. They're going to call the police. If you let us go, I swear on my life, I won't tell anyone, neither will Jenny and Maysa." He pleads and I see some of the kids glance at each other, as if they are thinking it over. "Look, guy's, please. We can stop this. Nobody's died yet."
"My fucking dog died though!" Brett shouts angrily.
"I'm sorry, it was an accident."
Brett bites his lip before turning around. He storms over to me and pulls me away from Ricky, "there's gonna be another accident here!" He sounds more and more angry with every word he says. He pushes me onto the ground and I wince in pain as I land on my back. Before I can even try to get up, Brett gets on top of me, straddling my waist and wrapping his hands firmly around my throat. I try and gasp for air and move my hands to his in a desperate attempt to pull his hands away from my throat, but that only causes for him to squeeze harder. I look up at him and plead with my eyes for him to stop as I keep hitting his chest, my lungs feeling as if they're about to burst. "And wait what happens to your girlfriend after I kill this bitch!"
I feel a weight lift off me right before I feel like I'll lose consciousness. I sit up and cough, my hands moving towards my now hurting throat, which will definitely bruise. I look to see Harry pull Brett away from me. Brett then pushes him, hitting him on the head, "get the fuck off me! Fucking little prick!"
"Let's not be head- loose, right?" Harry says, while Brett has a hold of his grey, long sleeved sweater.
"Who are you calling head- loose?"
"Let's not be rash."
I slowly get up from the ground and look at Harry, feeling a small amount of pride upon seeing him stand up to Brett.
"First phone they see, 999- who's fucking head- loose?" Brett points at Steve and then at me, the grey fabric of Harry's sweater still in his hand.
"No, this is rash shit, man." Harry shakes his head, "I never touched them."
Brett scoffs, "what, you didn't touch them?"
"No, mate."
"I'm pretty sure you touched her," Brett nods his head towards me, "weren't you the one carrying her here?"
"I mean, I didn't hurt them."
I watch as they just keep looking at each other. My eyes shift to Harry, who looks terrified. Brett then pulls out a knife and holds it against his cheek, Harry gulping in fear.
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I start to feel furious, not able to believe he'd threaten his own friends with a weapon. I take a step, ready to charge at Brett. But I'm being held back by Ricky, who places an arm around my throat and holds me tight against him, my back against his chest.
