Try to Scream

As Trent had promised, I woke to him opening the lock. I grabbed some clothes and quickly got dressed. Slipping on my slippers as I exited the bathroom, I walked up the stairs behind him. It was cool, so I was happy to have put on a sweater. We walked in the house and I sighed happily, feeling somewhat normal for a change.

Trent showed me where everything was, so I grabbed the milk, butter, eggs and bread. I pulled down a bowl from the cupboard and started whipping up the quick French toast mix and gazed at Trent. He was holding a box and little noises were coming from it. “This is for you.” He placed it on the table and smiled at me. “I figured, since we’ve come so far from when we first met, I owed you a little something.”

I took the few steps from the counter and pulled the top off the box. Inside was a little ball of fur. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“I got him from a friend.” I lifted the little kitty from the box and ran my fingers over his orange fur. “What do you want to name him?”

I stood there for a moment and thought of names, “Fozzy.”

Trent laughed, “Okay, Fozzy. Sit down on the couch and play with him. I’ll finish breakfast.” I moved from the table and set the kitten on the couch. He let out a small meow. My eyes moved back to Trent as he worked on the French toast. They slid over to the door and I found myself plotting ways to get out of here. “One done. How many do you want?” I looked at him quickly and smiled.

“I’m pretty hungry, so four?” Trent let out a small laugh and nodded, turning back to the pan. My eyes fell on Fozzy again and I sighed. “Sorry little buddy.” I set the kitten on the floor and shoved him under the couch. I heard his claws dig into the back of the couch, directly in the center where I sat. “Fozzy?” I freaked, falling to the floor. “Fozzy, come on out.”

“Everything alright?” Trent’s voice rang out, worried.

I lifted my head and shook it, “Fozzy got under the couch and I can’t get him out.” He tried to say it would be okay, but I interrupted. “I’m worried he’ll hurt himself!” I sat on the couch and put my face in my hands.

“Let me look.” He moved the pan off the burner and walked over. I moved, standing back towards the kitchen. “He’s just in the back; I’ll reach in and grab him.” He laid flat on the floor and extended his arm under the couch.

I instantly grabbed the handle of the hot pan, a piece of soggy bread still sizzling inside. Trent sat up and placed the kitten on the couch. I lifted the pan, tossing the bread behind me and bashed it against his skull.

He fell with a thud and moan. I brought the pan up again and hit him. He was motionless now. Dropping the pan, I ran at the door and took off. The driveway was long and I could see no end to it. I felt like the woods would be safer. If he woke up, I’d be somewhere deep inside the endless trees and he would be searching for hours.

I ran as fast as I could. I had little energy, being locked away for so long. But the adrenalin was kicking in and it helped me push further. When one of my slippers fell off, I didn’t bother stopping, I didn’t feel the rocks and twigs as they sliced away at my bare foot. All I knew was I had to keep running and I had to be free. Away from the maniac that kept me locked away, away from nothing but sadness and loneliness.

I couldn’t tell how far I ran when I was finally out of breath. I hunched over and rested my hands on my knees, taking in the much needed air. I closed my eyes and listened. Nothing. Not a sound. With my luck, I was probably running away from civilization. I opened my eyes again and started to run again.

Not long later, my foot was throbbing and I was certain I’d need stitches. I sat against a tree and examined the cuts. It was hard to see through the blood and dirt that caked my bare foot. I took the sleeve of my sweater and cleaned it the best I could. Pain shot through my whole body.

Small scratches covered my foot, but a long gash cut diagonally from my heel to the arch. It wasn’t bad enough to need stitches, but it felt like my foot was engulfed in fire. I lifted my sweater and pulled at the old tank top under it. With the small amount of energy that was left, I managed to rip enough to wrap my foot. It would keep any more dirt from getting into the wound and possibly stop the bleeding.

I knew I needed to get moving again. As I started pushing myself up I began hearing twigs snapping. My heart raced. He was coming back for me and I was screwed. He was able to move better than I was. But I didn’t let it stop me.

Quietly I started moving away from the sounds, looking for a place to hide. As they grew closer, I grew more helpless. I searched the ground for anything to help me, but as expected, all I found were branches. I grabbed the thickest one I could and hugged it close to my body.

I closed my eyes for a moment and waited as the sounds grew closer. I pressed my body against the nearest tree and waited. I had to make this count. One good hit, to knock him down. After that, I would just let myself go bat shit crazy with the stick and then I would run some more.

The steps were so close, I swore he’d heard me breathing now, but his pace didn’t change. He still walked slowly. I could hear his breathing now. He took one last step and I was out, my stick hit him in the chest.

When I looked, I noticed it wasn’t Trent. A large man with a bow and arrow stood before me, gasping for air. “Oh my God. You need to help me. Please, he’s coming after me.” I spoke the words faster than I could process them.

“Calm down.” The man coughed and looked at me. His hair was gray and he had a dark tan. He looked to be an avid hunter. He pointed forward. “My truck is about a mile up.” He rubbed his chest and looked at me, “What’s your name.”

Before I could speak, a loud thud came from behind him. He fell forward, landing on me. His weight was too much and I couldn’t move. When I looked up, Trent stood there, a baseball bat in hand. He had fire in his eyes and blood on his shirt. “You stupid bitch.” He brought the bat up and down on the man’s head, which was high above my own. I screamed as blood dripped on my own face. “You did this!” He brought the bat down on the hunters head again and again.

When he finished, Trent pushed the man’s body from mine and lifted me up. His fist found my face and I could have sworn I heard my bones crushing. His fist hit again and I felt everything go limp and the sky was suddenly black. All I could do was hope that he killed me then.