Heal

the damaged goods

Initially I wasn't going to take the story in this deirection, but I decided that it didn't reall matter (my form of basically yolo-ing it). So if you don't like it, or think it's unrealisic (which it probably is, but hey, why write a realistic story?) then you can make your own ending up lol??

So that night, I got a taxi to the train station, brought a ticket to Bournemouth and left. The ticket was expensive, but I figured I wouldn’t get there any other way.  Three hours wasn’t bad.

The train was packed, so I stood listening to music near the doorway. Every so often the train would shake and I would have to hold a pole for support, but other than that, it was eventless. I thought maybe George would follow me, hunt me down and hug me. Hold my hands tighter than he had before… but he didn’t follow me. He had stayed at the pub, where he would stay for god-knows how long, drowning in his own problems that are none of my business.

I waited till the last person on the train got off, and then got off myself. I decided I’d just follow someone somewhere and hope it lead me to a bed and breakfast with sympathy.

“Myra?” I heard, and turned around to see a group of boys dressed in black tracksuits.

I walked on, like it wasn’t my name. But it was too late, I had turned around.

“You’re coming with us.” One of them said, so I started screaming for help, but by now there were only a few people. A few people, sprinting away in fear of being taken themselves. Great. Just fucking great.

They covered my mouth and started pulling my backwards, through a door and into a car park. “Shut up dammit!” One of them threw me to the floor.

“What do you want?!” I cried, feeling like maybe I would be returning. In a coffin.

“Nothing from you, little darling,” One of them said, picking me back up, “Your little friend owes us a favour and we figured if we did this,” He put a gun to my head and I did a double take, “He might want to do it.”

One of the boys got out their camera phone, took a photo, laughed and then said “George is going to love our little bait, don’t ya think Ronnie?”

“Have you sent it to him?”

Oh my god. Oh my god. I was in Bournemouth surrounded by guys with guns and being treated as bait.

“I don’t know George!” I pleaded when they pushed me towards a car.

“Good try.” Said the one with the phone, “We have cameras outside his house. You two were holding hands, so we figured you meant something to him.”

“Well I don’t!” I was still trying to get out of it, knowing exactly where this was going to end up. I was desperate to get out alive. “Why would I be in Bournemouth if I meant anything?!”

“He’s replied fast,” The guy looked at his phone and smirked.

“What’d he say Joe?” The one holding my arm shook me a little.

“Let her go. Full stop.” He showed Ronnie the text, and that was all he had put.

“He’s not bothered, you can see that, I’m not your bait!” I squealed, but the guy holding my arm threw me to the floor again.

“Stop your whining!” He looked angry, even though I was the one with guns surrounding me.

“I think he needs a little more motivation,” Said Joe, walking towards me. Ronnie picked me back up and as I tried to scramble away Joe grabbed my neck. He put the camera up again, I tried to look away because I didn’t like the thought of George seeing how scared I was.

“It’s 3 am, you have 24 hours to do as instructed or your friend here,” He tightened his grip on my throat and I started to panic. I was gasping for air and my hands started to try and pull his off my neck. But his grip was firm, and I thought he was going to kill me right now. Then he pushed me to the ground, so hard I let out a whine. “Goes.”

“Dramatic,” One of the boys chuckled, and they all joined in.

“It’s our best idea yet.” Joe said.

“How did you find me?” I croaked, interested strangely in how they’d seen us hold hands and then make it down to Bournemouth in time to catch me getting off the train.

“It takes two and a half hours in the car if you’re fast.” Ronnie said. By his voice, I could tell he was older than the others.

“Incoming call, George,” Joe said, and then Ronnie took the phone off him and answered it himself.

“Hello dear,” He said in a mocking accent, there was shouting on the other end. “Oh calm down she’s fine, do you wanna talk to her?” He then put the phone to my ear. I was still lying on the floor and breathing heavy.

“Myra?” He sounded like he was going to cry.

“It’s fuck fox girl, to you.” I said, a little angry that I’m probably going to die because of some stupid boy I met whilst trying to drink my body weight in alcohol.

“Are you okay?” He sounded like he was rushing now.

“Oh yeah, I’m great. How about you?” I replied. Maybe I needed to be a little more serious about the whole situation.

“Myra!” He snapped, like he was getting annoyed that I wasn’t begging for his help.

“What? What do you want me to do?” I replied, sitting up. “It’s not my fault I’m about to be murdered.”

“You’re not going to be murdered,” He tried sounding calm, but it was failing miserably.

“Oh yeah, I forgot, probably beaten up first,”

“Myra, oh my god, shut up,” He was being so serious. If I was going to die, I didn’t want to have to panic.

So I did. I shut up for a second, thinking about what the hell was happening.

“What else am I meant to do?” I asked quietly, because my voice was going to break. I didn’t come here to die. I came to live. I came here as hopeful goods. Now what? Damamged goods?

There was silence on the other end of the phone and I think he preferred sarcastic Myra to scared Myra.

“Just hold on, ok?” He replied, nearly fooling me with his calmness this time.

Then they took the phone away from me. I didn’t want to be in this mess. I wanted to go home. I wanted to hug my mom. I didn’t want this.

“Ok put her in the van.” Ronnie dragged me up again by the arm and we all walked over to a van parked in the corner of the car park. The car park was empty, we hadn’t seen anyone come in or out. Was it closed?

They opened the van doors and threw me into the back.

I didn’t even bother to let out a whimper this time. I think it was Ronnie that got in the back with me, but I don’t know, I couldn’t see, it was dark in here. “Get some sleep. You’ll need it for whatever happens tomorrow.” He said as the doors shut.

So I took my bag off my back and used it as a pillow. I could’ve been sleeping in my own bed, or George’s now. But no, it couldn’t work like that. I had to be sleeping in the back of a van with a man with a gun.

It was only last night that I had slept at George’s. If I had known this was going to happen then maybe I wouldn’t of left.

I wanted to feel the same kind of comfort I had felt when he had put his arm around me. But I knew I wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever again.

I don’t know what I had been pulled into, and I don’t know what kind of favours and deals George made… but I was starting to think that maybe it was my business to know now.