It's a Good Year for a ***

Zacky walked me back to what I assume is his room. The walls are a bright red and contrast greatly with the black sheets on the bed. The room is big, about the size of mine was and just about as messy. His clothes were strewn across the floor in various piles and his close wasn’t any better. He stood awkwardly by the door just looking at me.
“Bathroom?” I ask, pointing to the door behind me.

He nods his head yes and gets himself comfortable in a lazy boy chair in front of the TV. I walk into the bathroom, quietly locking the door. I need to get out of here. Away from one killer and into the hands of 5 more, just my luck. Assessing my soundings there isn’t much in the bathroom. A dirty shower, a cluttered sink, and a small window above the nasty toilet. Slowly I closed the lid and stepped onto it, praying to God that I wasn’t making too much noise. I placed my hands on the bottom of the old window and pushed up slowly, flinching as it squeaked. Once all the way opened I stop and listen for a moment, making sure Vengeance didn’t hear me. Only hearing the chatter of the TV, I push the screen out and watch as it lands in a bush under the window. It is about a four foot drop into a large bush, and I have no shoes. Sitting my butt on the edge of the window I push my legs through and grip the window sill, twisting my body so I face the wall as I lower myself as much as I can. When my arms are extended all the way I let myself drop.
Hitting the bush hard I tumble further into it. I can feel the scraps and cuts sting as I climb out of it. My socks soak up the water that has peddled on the muddy ground. I don’t look back at the window as I bolt away from the building and into the woods. Once out of site I slow down and concentrate on where I’m setting my feet and listening for anyone behind me.
After a long time I make it out of the trees, a little worse for wear but still moving. I study my surroundings before moving on. I’m on the side of a road, no cars insight. I stayed pretty straight walking through he trees, so going left should take me back to the building, so right would be the way to go.
Tucking my long hair behind my ear I start off for the road, walking as fast as I can. The cold night air bites at my skin and my feet are numb as I walk on. Making sure to keep a listen out for any cars or the guys coming after me. No doubt Vengeance has figured out I’m not in the bathroom anymore. I imagine he is angry with me again. I bring my wrist up and examine it. The scar is faint and I remember doing it. So distraught about what was happening, I didn’t know what else to do. I thought for sure they were going to kill me or worse. I have had enough dirt bag people in my life telling me what to do. This is my life.

I walk until I have to sit down, my legs are on fire. I yawn loudly and rub my arms up and down, trying to stay warm. The rain has started up again and I am soaked in minutes. Jumping up and down I try to stay awake. Resting for too long is bad, they’ll find me. I walk on the road for awhile longer before I see the neon lights of a gas station. Excitement overwhelms me as I take off running towards it. It is further away then I expect and soon enough I find myself slowing down and limping more than walking. I could clearly see the guy behind the register, he was staring blankly at the TV screen and didn’t see me yet. Just as I reach out for the door I hear tires squealing behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him, I can hear him cussing me out.
“Lola!” He screams at me
I yank the door open and run past the counter to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I can hear all sorts of shouting coming from behind the door and then a loud gunshot rings through the air. My breath hitches in my throat and everything just slows down. Someone’s banging against the door and there’s lots of loud yelling. Bang! Bang! Bang! And then the door flew open to reveal Vengeance breathing hard. He takes two hard steps toward me before Gates runs in and pulls him violently out. After a lot of screaming a man that I don’t remember ever seeing walks in. He moves slow and just stands there, a couple feet from where I sit huddled on the floor. Saying nothing he just stares at me, taking in my wet, messed up clothes.
“I’m Johnny Christ, but you can just call me Johnny.” he says. “you really scared us you know. V was very upset, you shouldn’t do that to him. He has a very short temper.”

I sob into my arms as he stands there. Unsure of what to do. He doesn’t say anything just watches me as I break down.