Aim For The Heart My Bloody Valentine

I don't know when I had passed out, but when I did awaken, the car was spinning round and round. I groaned and closed my eyes again. Something just had to be wrong when you see the road in front of you hovering over your head. In the midst of my vertigo, I felt a cold hand press on my burning forehead. The blanket and the heater were probably not responsible for my scorching head.

I turned my head as slowly as possible and saw Marc attempting to drive and check on me at the same time. Oh, how I wish he hadn't been looking at me when he had. Like some sick cartoon, the contents of my stomach, mostly consisting of movie theater junk food, flew out all over Marc's lap.

This time, I know when I passed out. I passed out when my face crashed into Marc's victimized crotch and he was cursing very loudly. Mostly about the shit he goes through to recruit one new member.
...New member of what though?

..................................

Why did I complain about the heat?

"Oh... my fucking, cock sucking God!!!"

What else would you cry if a bucket of cold, and hard, ice cubes smashed into you while sleeping off a painful hangover?

Flailing my arms in the air to try shoving the culprit away, I forced my eyes open and glared and the unbalanced ceiling. As it settled back into its correct position, I slid my eyes over this unfamiliar room till they landed on a very vicious looking blond woman. She appeared to be my height, if not taller. And damn, she was curvy and evidently not afraid to make sure everyone knows that. She wore this uncomfortably tight leather jacket that failed to cover her breasts fully and cover her past the belly button. And the super-low riding tight black leather pants did not help much at all. Though, I did want her large biker boots. They were sexy as hell with those belt straps on them.

Much to my dismay, I went to look up at the empty bucket wielding bitch's face. She has fairly long, natural blond hair and brown eyes. Judging by the mass amount of eye shadow she worse, she is definitely a make-up junkie.

Since she was apparently scanning me like I just did her, I took the opportunity take a frozen chunk of ice off my chest and chuck it at her. And it hit. And I was met with retaliation as the metal bucket made contact on my school. I cried out in agony as the hangover came back with a massive vengeance.

"What the fuck did I do to deserve that?!" I screamed at her. Actually... now that I think about it..."Wait, scratch that. Why did you have to wake me up with ice!?"

The blond biker bitch, a.k.a B.B.B, grew a cocky smile and walked around the couch I am lying upon to pick up the bucket of doom. After dusting it off and making sure it was all sparkly clean, she finally permitted me to have her attention.

"Listen up, you filthy whore. I am the alpha female around here. Do not mess with my boys and my job, got that? You are a good for nothing little runt and if you cross me I will cut you mother. fucking. throat!" she proclaimed, using that vicious glare of hers to make me wet my Pucca undies. Too bad for her, it fails to work on me. After years of being beaten on by a crazed dad, threats seem very minuscule and ineffective. But she didn't need to know that.

With a completely undeserved sense of accomplishment, she stalked off, hips swaying and all, into another room. Speaking of rooms, I decided now would be a good time to finally find out where I am. The walls were all this sickly yellow color with generally white furniture. Just from assumption, I was lying in the living room. There is an average sized TV across from where I'm lying on an off-white couch. What kind of murderers live in this kind of home? That's when it dawned on me: this is a fucking hotel room.

Pressing my hand carefully on my forehead, I raised my shaky and unstable body into a sitting position. A weak golden beam had managed to peek through the curtains of a window in a failed attempt to brighten the room. It's very likely that it is dawn right now. I didn't know whether or not I should try to get up. There really wasn't much else to see. The other end of the room held a simple kitchen. Apart from that, there were two other doors. I'm guessing they are the bedrooms. I just couldn't help but wonder how much money was spent to get this big of a hotel room.

Anyways, I probably look like some rabies-infected creature from hell. My skin is covered in dry blood head to toe and I probably still have puke chunks on my face. And I'm in a dress. Sorry, but for the sake of the girl in me, I need a shower. Now.

Well, I'm definitely not about to go ask B.B.B to use her bathroom; it's probably covered in dildos anyway... that tramp. Trying to be as steady as possible, I 'walked' to the door B.B.B hadn't walked into. I lifted my hand and uneasily knocked on the door.

Silence...

I knocked again, this time a little harder. If no one responds then I'm just going to go in. However, it was answered... by a very tired looking Marc. I looked up at him with an annoyed expression. He isn't exactly someone I'd like to see, especially after just having puked on him. At least he didn't slam the door in my face; he only raised an eyebrow at me.

"Um," I said, unsure of how he'd react," may I use your shower? I feel very disgusting right now and I don't feel like dealing with blond biker bitch."

Should I not have called her that in front of him?

Marc stared at me for a little bit before stepping out of the doorway to allow me in. I sort of felt a little guilt for thinking negatively of him. In retrospect, all he's done is try to save me from my family. Even if it is a very different type of saving...

As I entered the room, I turned my head and smiled at him. A nice, honest smile. He should at least know that all in all, I do appreciate his help.