In The Blood

Nightmares

(Mitch)

"How much do you trust your friends?" his ever present nonstop rambling voice was purring in my ear. Nonstop. As if the situation wasn't bad enough to begin with, I was subjected to endless verbal abuse, constantly reminding me of how he held my life in his hands. All of our lives, really, but especially Adam's and mine. And it was taking everything within me to not say anything and just take it, to not fall to my knees like instinct was pulling me. I already had cried out of pure gut reaction and fear, out of hopelessness. I'd cried when he first grabbed me, screamed when he was trying to fend off off Scott and Kirstie while trying to maintain control of me, cried watching him manhandle Kirstie and pull her around by the hair, her screaming and fighting to get him off of her, to get him away from me, cried watching him finally get the better of Scott with not just one but two kicks to the crotch, knocking him down to his knees, me caught in the crook of his elbow, a death grip on my right hand as though to break that one for me as well. Kevin's pleas to try to talk this out fell on deaf ears. Too busy caught up in trying to breathe with a boa constrictor around my chest and a vice on my non-fractured arm, I wasn't even sure what Avi was doing. I hadn't heard any gunshots yet; I prayed he wasn't already dead. I could hear Austin's distinct voice from a distance, though if it weren't for the heavy southern accent, it would have been difficult to discern. What I was hearing was abnormally low for him. I was pretty sure the voice I was hearing from over there was Rob's. I knew I heard Tim crying, but nothing from Chance, nothing at all. I was terrified, already nearly grieving for Chance and Avi, afraid that when this was all over, we would have lost both of them. Possibly me too, rate Harris was going now with me, my neck under his armpit. I found myself drug around by my neck a few agonizingly long seconds. I'mma break my neck, it's gonna snap on me and I'mma be a corpse he's flinging around like a rag doll. I threw my arms up and tried to push at him, squeeze mat head out of his armpit but it was futile; he was clearly way stronger than me. When he drug me up to my feet by the hair and clutched me to his side, I was nearly grateful—glad at least I wasn't going to dry via a broken neck. I was not surprised when I felt the cold wet barrel of a gun press to my temple. Terrified, yes, but relieved my head was still attached. Taking several deep lungfuls of air, I surveyed the battle scene, relieved to see Avi and Chance still alive, though my eyes welled up seeing Adam int eh same position I was, battered and bruised, red in the face, and in Sandy's clutches with her gun pressed to his head, Rob and Austin still with clenched fists. Avi and Chance were knelt down beside—oh shit. My breath caught in my throat as I realized Tim was down. Oh shit, oh shit, she'd killed Tim, she'd killed him, dead, dead, dead... I was starting to hyperventilate before I realized that one, Tim was moving and Chance and Avi were talking to him, and two, Harris was smacking me with the gun barrel.

"Settle the fuck down and quit wiggling or I'mma bury a bullet in your brain," he hissed at me.

I quit wiggling. That was a damn good incentive. I did not want a bullet in my brain. I did not want a bullet in anyone's brain. I bit my lip hardest trying to stay as still as possible less that trigger move.

"How much you trust your friends?" He'd whispered, clutching me to his side, pinning my right arm between his and my bodies, rendering it totally useless. Harris gave a wicked grin, Linda now ordering Tim to stand up from his mud puddle. Mud. Ew. Mud. Least of our worries. "Your little fiery girl friend or your fuck buddy even try to pull anything, I'll have this bullet buried him your brain so fast."

They wouldn't. They wouldn't. They had to know there was no way they'd have a chance in hell to save me. I was done for if anyone moved. Don't move... please.... Tim fell with a splat in the mud puddle and I instinctively reacted then tried to still myself, still my heart. No. No. No movement. Don't kill Tim, please, please, he didn't do nothing to you, don't kill us, don't kill me. Afraid to move much of anything, I moved my eyes and my eyes alone towards Kirstie, who now had a beehive of sorts for a hairdo, and Scott. Scott was looking at me, eyes pinched as he leaned over. I blink as hard as I dared, unsure of how much movement it'd take to shake a bullet loose, tears running down my face.