Future Days

Fade to Black

I woke up reaching out to find an empty bed. Disappointed I sighed and pulled the comforter up around my face. I stretched one hand out from my toasty warm cocoon into the cold, dry void to check my phone for the time. It was fairly early still, Chris must've taken Roo on a walk. I was disappointed to see I didn't have a missed call from Eddie. I remembered what Chris had said last night and decided to give him time to call. He's probably just busy being a super famous Rockstar, and he'll call me when he can. I sure do miss him, though.

I'm lucky to have a friend like Christopher. I couldn't do this without him by my side. My nightmares have been so much worse lately. I can't sleep alone without the memories and fear spreading like wildfire through my unconscious mind. This last week I feel as if I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, more so than ever. That daunting feeling of being watched lingers in the depths of my mind and gut.

I feel violated and apprehensive knowing someone was in my home. Someone was here while I was here and I didn't even notice. I've always thought of myself as hyper vigilant, given my past circumstances with Sam, but I was oblivious to a home invasion. I don't know, maybe I've gotten too comfortable in this new life of mine.

I'm once again feeling myself walk on eggshells like I had never left Cali. I've worked so hard to get away from that dark mindset and start over, but I'm starting to worry that I'll never be free from my own anxiousness and fears. I'm a prisoner of my own mind, and I'd do just about anything to escape.

A loud and sudden commotion snapped me back to reality and brought me to my feet in lightning fast speed. A massive brick had crashed through my window, and shattered glass glistened in the Seattle sun on my hardwood floor.

Frozen in fear, I stood staring at the ground in petrified disbelief until I heard crunching of busted class from behind me. Before I even turned around, I knew. This wasn't paparazzi, or some crazed fan of Eddie's. In the pit of my stomach I knew he was here in Seattle. He was looking for me, and he wouldn't stop until he found me.

"Miss me, doll?" His ominous voice made my blood run cold and all air void my lungs.

Run. My legs started to move beneath me, desperately wanting to be anywhere but here. Glass buried itself into my bare feet as I made my break for the door, ignoring the pain shooting up from the soles of my feet.

A sharp pain cascaded through my scalp as his rough hand grabbed me by the back of the head, locking his prying fingers into my hair and yanking me back against his body. He held me captive like that for what seemed like hours, but I'm sure was only merely minutes.

"I told you, I would fucking find you, cunt. You sure made it easy whoring around with celebrities on magazine covers. Once a whore, always a whore.
Does he know you're shacked up with some other loser while he's away? I think I'll do them both a favor and bury your sorry ungrateful ass in a shallow grave. Or maybe I'll see what ol' Mark is up to these days, huh? I'm sure he'd love to get his hands on you again."

He had his other clammy hand wrapped tightly around my throat, turning his knuckles white. My lungs burned a perpetual fire as I battled to breathe. I could feel his shredded skin building up under my fingernails as I desperately tried to pry his hands free from my neck.

The world as I knew it had began fading to black as a gasped and grunted for air. This was it, he was right all along. He's going to kill me, and this will all have been for nothing.

You know that old cliché about how your life flashes before your eyes in your last moments? It wasn't my life that I saw. It was their faces, their voices. Eddie, Chris, Rooster, Mrs. J and the guys. I finally found my place in this world and a family that loves me, and I'm not giving up without a hell of a fight. I won't let them find me dead by the hands of this sick fuck, or anyone else's for that matter.

With every last strain of power I had left in my body I managed to kick backwards with every ounce of strength to connect my foot to his groin. Sam doubled over in pain, freeing me from his firm harsh grasp and sending me tumbling towards the glass littered floor. I scrambled to my feet as quickly as my body would allow through the piercing shards of glass, but Sam once again grabbed me by the back of my tee shirt and slung my body over the back of my couch. My beautiful coffee table shattered on impact as my forehead connected with the clear glass.

I could feel the warm blood trickle down my face. The black dots that stained my vision completely consuming me in to unconsciousness. The last I saw was his face twisted in hate and disgust looking down at me as he stood brooding over me with a twisted shit eating grin.

///

The hauntingly familiar stench of cigarettes and stale beer had woken me, however I knew where I was before I could even render myself to open my eyes. The ache in my head turned to throbbing and I felt as if I would vomit at any moment. I was in the back seat of his old 67' Impala. Beer cans and empty whiskey bottles rattled on the floor with every bump and pot hole he hit along the way.

Where is he taking me?

Wherever it is, I can't let him get me there. I have to do something now or never.

Quietly as I could, I wrapped one of my blood stained hands around the neck of an empty Jack Daniels bottle. My fingers trembled as I tried to reassure myself that I could do this.

The rage bubbles up inside of me, the memories of every black eye, busted lip, and bruised rib. The names he's called me, the way he made me hate myself and loathe my life so much so that I wanted to die. If I'm going to die, it's not going to be without a fight.

I observed the weight of the bottle in my brittle hand, and swung it into the temple of Sams cranium. The bottle bursting into sharp shards of confetti as Sam slumped forward onto the steering wheel. Holding on tightly to the back of the drivers side seat, bracing myself for the inevitable impact as we raced towards a tall oak tree.

Screeching tires, and busting glass echoed through my ears as I scrambled for the door handle. Once again, Sam was one step ahead of me. He fumbled out of his seat and fell to the ground just barely able to grab me by the ankle as I made my daring escape, in one swift motion I connected the heel of my glass splintered foot to the bridge of his nose and watched as his face fell facedown into the dirt and fragments of his beloved car that was now wrapped around a tree that I'll forever be thankful for.

"Fuck you, Sam." I spit on his unconscious mangled frame.

The adrenaline wearing off made my wounds become painfully obvious now. Still barefoot and in my blood stained, ripped to shreds sleep clothes, I walked as far as I could away from Sam and the scene of the accident, praying for someone to drive down the road and find me. The pain shooting up from my feet was almost completely unbearable, and the throbbing in my skull impaired my vision, but I wouldn't allow myself to stop. I've come this far, I can keep going. I know I can.

A familiar vehicle screeched to a stop before me as I pushed on with the last of my strength. Jeff and Stone rushed to my side fear and anguish evident on their faces. "How are you still standing?!" Jeff scooped me up in his arms bridal style, mindful of my wounds. I felt myself melt into his arms, knowing that finally I'm safe again. "Stay awake for me, Sydney." Jeff rushed me to the back seat of his car.

Stone climbed in the backseat with me, his long legs bent up to his chest from being crammed in a small backseat would've been a golden opportunity to poke fun at him if I could find a shred of voice left in me. The only noises escaping my mouth were soft whimpers and groans of pain. He brushed the bloody matted hair off of my still bleeding forehead and sighed deeply. His eyes were tired and full of worry.

"You gotta stop getting kidnapped, kid. It stresses me out." Stones voice was the last thing I heard as my surrounding faded to black as we rushed towards the hospital.

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