Nameless

Chapter 10

What an eventful day that Laura would love to hear about. I imagined us all sitting at our lunch table :
Laura would sit right next to me, giving me no personal space whatsoever, "What did you do yesterday, Annie?"
"Oh, you know, had sex with the person I thought loved me, found out that my dad could be a psycho killer, oh, and my name isn't Annie! It could be fucking Bertha for all I know."
Anna would glance over in suspense.
I hadn't contacted either of them on account of Robert smashing my iPhone.

It's now October 8th I'm assuming. It should be around 4 or 5 in the morning. I haven't really done much since Jim left. I've been sitting on the same chair, contemplating whether I liked it or I didn't. It was awful, mainly because he never loved me. He was hired by my da-, no. He was hired by Robert to portray a love interest, and I fell right into his trap.
I guess I shouldn't be worried about school anymore, I heard Robert call the principal last night to say that I wouldn't be in school for a week or two due to a contagious disease that was developed overnight.

The door opened and I obviously pretended to sleep. Robert walked down the steps and I'm guessing he saw my underwear or something else because he threw my pants at me and yelled for me to put them on. I quickly pulled them up and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. "Hurry up, I haven't got all day," Robert said. "Yeah, well it isn't that easy with your hands tied behind your fucking back." He glared, then laughed. "You think I'm going to untie you just so you can get dressed? HA. I'll let you freeze for all I care. You're only going to die anyway."
My mother started to walk downstairs. Robert turned from me when he heard the footsteps.
"Go back upstairs, you fucking wench. "
"She's going to have to live, Rob. She won't rat us out."
"Are you fucking stupid? Did I ask for your opinion on this? No. So go back upstairs. "
She returned to her place at the top of the steps.
"What do you want from me anyway, Rob?" I said it so soothingly it almost made him cringe.
"Oh, you. You're the last one, darling, " he caressed my face, "you're my last victim. "
"What do you mean?"
He must think I'm dumb.
"I mean, dumbass, that you are going to be my last kill. Which also means that it needs to be special, memorable even. "
"Weren't all of the others memorable?"
"Yes, but you will be the most memorable. Think of it as a farewell. From me to you."
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One thing I've learned over my years of living is that crying does not help nor solve anything. Therefore, I do not cry. I never cry, no matter what. No matter how hard things have gotten, no matter what grade I get on a test, no matter the situation. I refuse to cry.
A valuable lesson to have learned, considering my circumstances. I'm going to die, I know. I was raped, I know. I am a missing girl, I know. For a normal child, this would be a shit load of depression and heartache. For me, it's a bump in the road. I will not cry. I will not show emotion. I can't. It lets them win. It lets Rob win. It lets Jim win.
Mainly, the reason why I refuse to cry is because in second grade, my best friend Reilly stole my favorite Barbie doll during recess and ripped it's head off, then returned it back to me broken and unusable. I bawled for the rest of our free time, and everyone started asking questions and embarrassing me. I don't relive this memory every day, because come on, it was a fucking Barbie. But, I'll never live down the embarrassment of crying in front of everyone. It was unbearable.
So I don't cry.
Jim walked into the small room with a blanket and a pair of my socks. He came over and put them on my feet and covered me with the blanket. Rob followed shortly after.
"What do you want now?"
Rob walked over to the desk with the toolbox in it and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out a needle and a tiny glass bottle.
"We've been forced to take drastic measures. "
Jim ripped my arm out from under the blanket right as I kicked him in his balls. He groaned and I got up and ran. Rob pulled me off of the steps by my leg, forcing me to smash my head against the wooden steps leading to the door.

I was dizzy, but not dizzy enough to feel numb. I felt the needle go into my arm, and with that injection, I was out.