Won't Turn Out Right

Zacky looked at me blankly.

"Oh well." I frowned at him.

"Seriously? Are you really doing this now?" He kept his face emotionless but nodded once. If he was just a little bit closer to me I would have punched him. "I have to pee, you douche bag. It's not like I'm asking to use your phone, for Christ's sake." He blinked and suddenly kicked my leg hard. I screamed and bent over on the couch to grip it. He opened up a gash.

He stood up and flung me over his shoulder quickly.

He may be shorter than me, but he's certainly stronger than me....

He walked over to the other side of the room and turned to the wall. He threw me and I hit it with a loud thud, falling to the ground in a heap. I screamed and cried in pain. He opened the door, and came back for me, throwing me over his shoulder again. He turned to the right down the hall, past the stair case.

The walls were a light blue color, and the ceiling was the same yellow-ish white color as my room. The floor was covered by a dark blue shag carpet that hadn't been vacuumed in God knows how long. There were fist-sized holes in the walls, exposing wires and pipes.

I elbowed Zacky in the back of the neck and he gripped my legs tighter. I winced.

Finally we came to the end of the hallway and he threw me in a room. I landed on cold, hard tiled floor. I let out another cry and stayed down, merely lifting my head up at him just in time to see him glare and shut the door. I let my head down onto the cool tiles and slammed a fist down in frustration.

Looks like crazy comes and goes quickly in this house.

I looked up at the flickering lights and sighed.

He threw me into the bathroom.

I rubbed my tired, swollen eyes with the side of my hand and sniffled. I dragged myself over to the toilet and sighed.

Just kill me now.

-*-

Mary Fuller's eyes were sunken and tired. Her hair was stringy and unwashed. She hadn't bothered with grooming much since the day she came home to a very empty house and a missing daughter. Sleep didn't come easy. She would lay awake at night, thinking of her Charity. Wondering if she was still alive. Hoping that she was staying strong.

But, she knew she was. Charity had always been strong. She was a fighter and she was stubborn. Mary knew that if she had been in her daughter's place, which she gladly would have taken to keep her safe, she wouldn't be able to stay as strong. She was never a fighter. Mary was a follower, a sheep following the herd. She relied on others too much.

She was glad that her daughter hadn't received the sheep gene.

She wiped some sweat from her forehead as she entered the cigar shop. She wandered to the counter to find a balding, middle-aged man hunched over watching a small television.

"Excuse me, sir, my daughter is missing. Would you mind if I hung up a couple of these flyers outside your shop? Just on the window?" He looked up at her as she held up a piece of paper from the pile that she gripped tightly in her arms. Her hopeful look made him nod sympathetically.

"Sure, ma'am. Go right ahead. I could put one right up on the back of the cash register, if you'd like." She gave him a thankful, tired smile.

"Thank you so much. That would be so wonderful." She handed him a flyer and thanked him one last time before heading to the door.

"Good luck." She turned around and waved one last time while still walking. She wasn't looking where she was going when she suddenly bumped into someone. Like walking into a wall. She turned around and put a careful hand on his shoulder. It was a handsome young man, big a muscular.

"I'm so sorry, dear. I wasn't paying one bit of attention." He grinned at her and let out a chuckle. She noticed his lip ring and tattoos, thinking of how it clashed with his handsome dimples.

"No problem, ma'am. Have a nice day." She gave him and his friend a smile before she walked out the door. She turned to the window and took out a bit of tape. She taped it to the store window securely and crossed the street to her car. That was the last store on the street.

Matt and Brian noticed the picture of Charity on the wall and looked at each other knowingly. They glanced back at the woman before whipping out their bandanas and tying them across their faces. Brian took out his gun and cocked it. The store owner looked up.

"Empty out the register, buddy." The man scrambled up out of his seat as Matt walked over to the counter. He examined the picture of Charity and ripped it off. He folded it and put it in his pocket.

Matt found the video camera and looked at the way it was pointing. It hadn't caught their faces when they were coming in. He smiled and picked up a bottle of wine. He threw it at the lens and it cracked and fell to the ground along with the wine bottle which shattered and flooded the floor with a thin layer of red..

"Hurry up, we don't have all day." Brian waved his gun in the man's face as he put all the money on the counter. Matt opened up his backpack and started sliding it all in.

"This is it? Where's the fucking money?" Matt looked the man in the eyes and the man swallowed hard and shook his head.

"I-It was a s-slow day today. That's all." Brian and Matt rolled their eyes.

"Unfortunately I believe you." The man closed his eyes tightly and waited.

He knew what that meant.

The shot rang out and the man fell backwards into the cabinets behind him. Brian and Matt grabbed a bit more cigars, cigarettes, and whiskey before running out of the store. They ripped off their bandanas and headed down the street and the park, jumping into their car and driving back to a very familiar house.