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Chapter 4: Escape

I was awaken by the sound of jingling keys and the door creaking open eerily. My eyes genteelly opened, to the sight of a bunch of girls, who all looked my age.

But I spotted in the middle of the group, the demon who ran the show. Anaïs Luna. She was surrounded by girls; giggling, bubbly, alive, and happy.

That was until they feasted their eyes on yours truly. I could hear the gasps and feel the stares burning into my head. A few girls murmured profanity to each other. Some just took out their phones and wrote something; something I most likely didn't want to know.

I waited to turn around and glance at them until I heard the remark, "who's that drunk hobo on your couch Ana?" Then I jolted my head around and got a good look at them. All angelic looks, the newest designer clothing, and high-technology electronic devices. Of course they all forsake me as a 'drunk hobo.' It almost wasn't offensive, all the shit I've heard.

Then Anaïs stood in the middle of the possee. Her devious grin almost as bone chilling as her unknown plan. What was she even planning on doing? Torturing me? Disembodiment? Decapitation? Homicide? Slave Labor? Jesus Christ, the possibilities were endless. For hell's sake, rape was even an choice in her mentally issued mind!

A soft breeze skittered down my neck like a rat escaping from a kitchen maids broom. I felt my palms go sweaty fast, and realized I needed to get out of there before my fragile sanity slipped out of my grasp

But then I heard a vaguely familiar sing-song voice echoing throughout the crowd of girls. Who's voice was this? I remembered it, but not to whom it belonged. Where have I heard this voice-

"Oh come on Pandora, don't be such a hypocrite!" A snobbish tone made my ears twitch.

AH-HA! Pandora Lane! How could such a dream women erase all her existence from my memory so easily!

The only popular girl I worshiped, Pandora Lane. Long waist high, smooth blonde hair: cream skin, and rounded brown freckles dotting her face. Her serene, peace-thirsty attitude. A+ student. Pandora was a imaginary girlfriend to any guy. The perfect imitation of a fantasy.

I couldn't help but stare. Anticipating the chance to get a good look at her up close, probably the closest glimpse I'll ever get to heavan. But right when the parallelogram of teenagers opened, they immediately trapped themselves back in. Like some sort of tribal dance. The whispers and chatters their chant. I started to imagine all of the girls dressed in grass skirts with coconut bras on, holding ceremonial torches and tikis surrounding them; Pandora their grand sacrifice. A believable daydream indeed.

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Katerina slide into the booth next to Anaïs cautiously; as Anaïs's unbearable eyes pierced hers. Lil' Armies side shop. The most run down hangout for all teens and drunks in the neighborhood. It was a combination of a Smoke Shop, Soda Bar, and Clothing Shop. The Soda Bar consisted of a think counter made of brick covered in slang, and vulgar graffiti. Written in pink, blue, and black sharpie.

The chairs were small sticks of metal pole with a cushion attached. A rack of porn magazines next to the pool table; which was missing a 13 and a 6 ball. Not to mention most staffs were either chipped or broken. Dim lighted lamps that swung loosely from the collapsing ceiling.

Katerina smacked a nickel on the table and asked for a Sprite. Most of the drinks were served in cheap dirty-looking "Coca-Cola" glasses. Which didn't mind.

"So, what'd gonna do with the girl, Anai?" A slight southern accent made it's self obvious when Kat spoke. She looked like a country girl as well. Braided dust brown hair and low-riders.