Nameless

Chapter 17

I didn't move. Jim lay there on my bathroom floor, dead. Tears were spilling down my face. My boyfriend was dead. Olivia turned toward Robert, who had ropes around his hands, not allowing him to make any threatening movements whatsoever. She pointed the gun at him as well, "Move your ass. Sit on the bed." Robert obeyed. Surprisingly, he just looked at her. Didn't even make a smart retort or comment. He just obeyed. I pulled the shower curtain back as far and as slow as I could. I stepped one foot out of the tub and remembered: "How are you going to go out there without something to defend yourself with?" I stepped back in. I looked around my whole bathroom trying to find something to defend myself with. I turned in a small circle until I saw it. A razor blade. I quickly snatched the razor off of a small white shelf in my bathtub and quietly started to pull it apart. I broke the top of the razor off and released two sharp blades. I put one in the rear pocket of my jeans and took the other in my right hand. I stepped out of the tub once more, but this time, I was prepared. Olivia was whispering something to Robert the entire time I was looking for the God damned razor, I was too focused on breaking the stupid thing to understand what she was saying. I let out a small whimper when I saw Jim's dead body on my floor. Then I remembered: I was pregnant with his baby. The baby would never have a father. Olivia mustn't have heard me, but Robert did. He looked at me with eyes of hope. I motioned for him to hush and he looked back at Olivia.

Jim looked so peaceful. Like he was finally released from the hell he was living in. I took one more step toward the bathroom door before turning back around to look at Jim. "I love you," I mouthed as more tears escaped my eyes.
I faced Robert and Olivia, razor blade in hand. Robert's eyes were teary, but Olivia didn't care. She kept that gun pointed at his head as she kissed his lips, leaving her lipstick as an imprint on his face. She finally pulled away, while I was practically right behind her. Robert glanced at me once more as I drew my razor blade in my right hand. 'Like throwing a softball' I thought. I sucked in a deep breath before Olivia turned to face me. "What the hell are you loo-"

There she was. The real Olivia. Staring up at me as I knelt next to her. "I.. I'm sorry." She released her last breath with "sorry" and died right in front of me. I saw why Robert would want to kidnap her, she was beautiful. Even in her last minute, she looked as beautiful as she did when I first met her, 15 years ago.

I'd never seen so much blood. It was everywhere. Robert was crying next to Olivia. He took her hand, which was now as cold as ice, and just held it close to his heart. He had to have loved her. You could see it now. Robert was my kidnapper, but he was also a man. He was a human being. He probably loved Olivia more that he could have ever loved himself. She was so beautiful. She was sweet, even in her last lines of violence. She had the look of regret in her eyes, along with the fire of anger, and the blue of sadness. She lost her family too, except now, she would never have the satisfaction of being "found."

Robert looked at her one last time before taking the gun from her hand and pointing it at me. God, I just saved this fucking guy from a miserable death and he still wants to kill me. His eyes were watering, his face red, his hands closed and fixed on the trigger. The gun shook as he sucked in each breath he was taking. He was sobbing. His lover was dead because of me. I killed her with a razor blade.

He pulled that trigger like there was no tomorrow.
The gun didn't go off.
He pulled again. This time, shaking the gun.
For the second time, the gun failed to shoot.
He pulled one last time, nothing.
No bullets.

His lover may be dead, but so was mine. I ran at him and tackled him, bringing us both to the hardwood floor in my bedroom. He punched, I kicked. He punched me once in the stomach, which caused me to have an ache that hurt more than anywhere else he hit. I kicked him in the chest, which slowed his breathing. I punched him in the nose, mouth, everywhere. He fell to the floor. I sprinted toward the bedroom door and flung it open. He tried crawling toward it, but I was too fast. My head was spinning-- I was getting out. I ran down the hallway of my old home and down what seemed like 100 flights of stairs until I reached my front door. I had no shoes on and blood was streaming down my face. My head was spinning and the left side was sending shooting pains through my skull, but Robert was flying down the hallway almost as fast as I had. I didn't care. I flung the front door opened and ran out of it, I hadn't even bothered to close it. Let him follow me. I was running straight for the police station. I didn't look back.
*************
Last month, I was a normal girl living a normal life. I got up for school at 6 a. m., I ate my breakfast, my boyfriend picked me up for school, and I went to every class just like every other day of my life. I talked to my friends and I had fun at softball practice. I ate dinner with my family, I socialized on the internet with my friends, I watched TV. I didn't choose to lead a rebellious life where I did drugs and smoked cigarettes and drank beer. I chose to live a good life, get good grades, eat healthy, and take care of everything that needed taking care of.

Today, I am no longer that normal girl.
Today, I am lost. I am without hope. I have no reason left to live.
Today, I am a missing girl.

I was sitting in a cold, navy blue, leather chair while waiting for someone to see me. Every person who walked in gave me a disapproving glance. The woman at the front desk just tells them to leave me alone. They must think I'm a drug addict or something. Maybe even a girl who ran away from home.
Wait.. I am a girl that ran away from home. But, I'm assuming that my situation will be an exception.

There was still blood flowing from my nose and shin from when Robert and I decided to brawl. He hasn't shown up here yet. Maybe I lost him while I was running here. I didn't want to look back.
A young officer, probably around my age, maybe even 20, came out to see me. "Hi, you must be Annie," he extended his hand out to me, "I'm Drew."
I was afraid to touch him, I hadn't touched anyone aside from Jim, Robert, and Olivia for a good two months. He pulled away, "It's okay, I won't bite." He looked down at me, almost in pity. I must've looked pretty beat. "Come on, I'll show you the way to our questioning room."
He had to help me up, and pretty much hold me the entire walk to the questioning room in the police station. The few feet seemed like miles, even though I just ran almost 4 actual miles just to get here. Drew pulled out a bundle of keys from a ring and pushed a small, silver one into the lock on the bright red door leading into the questioning room. He took my hand and pulled me into the small, white room and sat me down in a plastic chair. I cuddled my legs up to my chest and rocked back and forth. Drew kept looking at my eyes and I kept glancing away.
"You don't look like you're high on drugs, so maybe you just got into a bad fight, huh?" I shook my head, "Hey, look! You shook your head, maybe we're getting somewhere here." I gave him a small smile to show that I appreciated the humor, but I couldn't talk. He was just looking at me like I was some sort of science experiment.

After about 10 minutes, another officer came in, this one much older and much bulkier than Drew. Just like Drew, he held out his right hand, asking me to shake it. Of course, I refused. "Hi, Annie. I'm Stewart. But the boys around here call me Skipp." I smiled at him, but he didn't seem to notice. He sat down in a chair placed across from me, the only thing separating the two of us was a low, hardwood table with handcuffs and a box of doughnuts on it. "So, did you run here by yourself?"
I started shaking, but I knew I had to talk to him. How else would Robert be convicted? "I.. ye-yes." Skipp signaled for Drew to go sit next to me, to which he obeyed. He pulled up another plastic chair and plopped himself down right next to me. "It'll be okay," he whispered. I must look like hell.
Skipp continued, "did anyone follow you here?"
"I..um, I'm not sure."
He pulled out a small notebook from his pants pocket and wrote something down. "Do your parents know you're here?"
Parents. Robert and Olivia.
"I don't know who my parents are."
His eyes widened at that. Drew came a little closer to me, him also, with widened eyes.
"You don't know who your parents are? Who were you running from?"
I didn't know how to respond. My kidnapper? Two dead bodies? I didn't know. My head was spinning. My eyes were tearing. I tried to gather all of the memory I had of Robert and Olivia and Jim and Laura and Anna and my schoolmates and all of the classes I'd ever taken and lessons I'd learned. Drew looked at me with sincerity. I went pale.
"Skipp, look here." He pointed toward the gigantic purple bruise on my left temple. "Did someone hurt you?"
I nodded, and then pulled up the sleeves of Jim's tee shirt to show the scars on my wrists from Robert having tied the ropes so tightly around them. Drew looked over at Skipp and nodded. "You'll be okay here, Annie." I looked up, "we'll take care of you."