Acts of Desperation(45)
I felt something dark and sinister step in the room with me—I was in the room with the devil. “Please, please don’t do this. I won’t see him anymore after this. I’ll-I’ll break up with him, I promise. You don’t need to do this,” I said.
“You wo-won’t see him anymore.” He chuckled. “With his dashing good looks, I find that hard to believe. Besides, I think he’s actually in love with you. He wouldn’t just give up that easily. With his smooth talking lawyerly ways, I’m sure he’d be able to get you to reconsider, and I just can’t have that. So no,” he snarled, “sorry, not a viable option.”
“Please, I’ll do anything.” My tears were rolling down in thick streams.
“Now now. Shh…don’t go getting all upset.” He walked over and rubbed my head. “It’s not going to be easy for me, but I’ll give you something to make it a little more pleasant.” He began walking toward me with something in his hand when I heard a ding. He stopped and put whatever it was in his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Ah! There it is.” He giggled. “I have my money. I promised the police that I’d give them your location after I got it.” He winked. “I’m sorry but we have to move, and I need to get this over with.”
He looked down and began typing into the phone. He was distracted, and although I was weak, my time was now or never. The lamp would be my best weapon. If I could hit him hard enough, it could give me enough time to run. I lunged out of bed and went for it, catching him by surprise, but I was only able to palm the lamp just as he was at my back. He grabbed the neck of my shirt pulling me to him, so I turned and swung. He put his arm up and blocked my shot. I shoved him back and managed to run to the door, getting only a few steps before he seized me from behind and wrapped his arm around my neck. He gripped me tighter as he fiddled to get whatever it was out of his pocket.
You know, it’s funny the things that come to mind in situations like these. Suddenly, I thought about Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, and I needed to SING—Solar Plexus, Instep, Nose, and Groin. I lifted my arm and elbowed his ribs, stepped on his foot, hit him in the face then punched his groin.
He went down like a sack of potatoes, and I took off. I burst through the door and scanned the area for something leading to the outside. I knew I hadn’t knocked him out, so I needed to be quick. I ran into a kitchen and saw the forest through a windowed door. It was covered in a yellowed lace curtain, but still I saw it—freedom. I yanked on the knob, but it was locked. I fumbled to open it, hearing his groans getting louder. He was coming for me.
Run, Run, Run…
Finally, I’d gotten it. I threw open the door and ran from the setting sun, its red glow igniting the wet forest floor, as I plunged into the fiery depths of hell. Then, as I took my first steps, I was hit with the harsh reality that I had no shoes. The soggy leaves and twigs below my feet bent and poked at my bare soles.
“Stop!” he called. He was so close.
I ran—sprinted—through thick brush, being hit repeatedly in the face with their sharp talons, clawing at my cheeks and arms, scratching me as I forced my way through. I swatted at them denying them of their persistent traitorous desire to stop me and hold me in their death grip. I looked to the trees; maybe I could climb one and hide. No animals would get me, and I could hideout until daylight. I used to be an excellent climber. With as much adrenaline as I had pumping, I knew I could quickly get to the top.
No, I decided, my breath coming out in frantic grunts, I couldn’t stop.
Run…
“Sember! Stop!”
I looked over my shoulder; he was gaining on me. I heard his heavy boots beating against the forest floor. The light was falling fast, casting him only as a dark shadow, my demon in the woods.
RUN…
I turned back, launching into a full gallop as my cursed asthmatic lungs began to burn, and I felt my airway tightening, sapping me of my strength and slowing me down, but still, I would not stop. Suddenly, his hand was on my shoulder. I screamed and thrust my elbow back catching him somewhere on his face. He grunted and landed with a loud thud.
I got a few more steps then the unthinkable happened; I tripped. I went down with thunderous force and struck my head on something hard. I rolled over and moaned, feeling the warm sticky blood gushing, already coating my hand.
His dark figured leaned over me.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. They were the last words I heard before everything faded to black.
Chapter Twenty
Beep…beep…beep…
That’s annoying. I wish someone would shut off the alarm, I thought. I pictured myself reaching for that maddening sound and throwing the noisy culprit against the wall, but I was just so tired that I couldn’t will my eyes to open or my limbs to move.
Beep…beep…beep…
“Daughter…is she…long term effects…?” I caught bits and pieces of a conversation. I recognized my dad’s voice.
Huh, that’s nice that he’s here.
“Head injury…trauma of this kind…stable…totally normal…,” an unfamiliar voice said.
Then many voices began talking, at least four, seemingly all at once at times, one overlapping the other. Gibberish and nonsense was what it sounded like. My mom? Liz? My sister? It was keeping me from the rest that I desperately wanted.