Prologue

My arms and legs are stiff as a board from laying on my side. The razor-sharp throbbing in my brain feels like a tight rubber band is wrapped around my head.

How long have I been here?

Where is here?

I last remember hanging out at Seb's with the rest of our friends.

I blink until the room comes into focus, trying to familiarize myself with my surroundings, but it's difficult to concentrate with the constant sharp stabbing pain in my head. I struggle to keep my eyes open. When I fully come to, I first notice two buckets of paint pushed against the drywall, a paint roller in a paint tray, and used towels swarming around a black boombox. I look around the dark room. Only a shadow of dim light glows in the distance, and an unfamiliar clicking sound rattles above me. Cold drops of water spatter down against my cheek.

My body protests when I try to roll on my back. I use what strength I have left to pull myself up, but the persistent pounding in my head worsens, and my stomach rolls with nausea, immobilizing me.

The aching cramp- in my stomach feels like intense pressure pulling at my insides. The pain spreads to my lower back. Tears begin to build behind my eyes when I feel liquid seeping between my legs.

No.This cannot be happening. Please don't tell me I lost my baby. I want to cry but there is no energy left for tears. My throat feels as dry as sandpaper. I try to lick my chapped lips, but my saliva seems to have dried up.

I need water.

How long can a person survive without water?

What the…

Fear starts to creep in like when I passed out from claustrophobia from being locked inside the closet for hours. The feeling leaves me exposed and vulnerable, not knowing where I am, or why my body feels like it was torn apart and put together and torn apart all over again.

When my mind begins to process the events that led to wherever I am, a string of haunting images flashes before my eyes of a boy I once loved standing before me, tearing my soul from my body without an ounce of remorse.

It all happened so quickly. The sharp slap to the face that jerked my head to the side. He yanked me by the hair as if he was trying to detach my head from my body. He dragged my broken and bruised body down the basement steps, and that's when it hits me as the strong musty smell invades my senses.

Hisbasement.

I remember tripping over my feet, trying to maintain my balance, but he caught me and threw me against the wall, choking the life out of me. A dark malevolent look in his eyes froze the blood in my veins. My body was flung across the room like a rag doll as if choking me wasn"t enough. Protecting my body from any more trauma, I rolled over to my side, wincing from the pain burning through my already bruised and broken body, fighting to catch my breath.

His steps faltered up the stairs as he slammed the door behind him. I sighed in relief, but that feeling was short lived the moment his boots stomped against the concrete floor. A fear I never felt before hammered in my chest. Without warning, his fist connected with my face, pain exploding as he drove a kick to my back.

I cried out in agony; tears viciously blurred my vision.

I never wanted to die until this moment. I prayed to the heavens above to end my life. With one eye half-open, the black boot came into view, ready to unleash another blow, but a loud roaring sound bouncing off the walls prevented the strike. The last thing I heard before I succumbed to the darkness were loud grunts, bones cracking, bodies thrashing, and finally, a loud thump.

I awoke to being cradled in someone's warm, strong arms.

"Fucking Christ! I"m so sorry. I"m so fucking sorry." The crack in his voice breaks my heart in two.

I try to open my mouth to speak, but my lips feel like they're glued together.

"Holy shit!" A pained cry from an unrecognizable voice startles me.

"We need to call 9-1-1, bro."

"She won"t make it. I"m taking her to the hospital. Get the car and meet me out front," my savior demands while freeing me from the restraints.

Wait. I know this voice.

"It's going to be ok. Shh," he whispers in my ear.

When I open my eyes, tears of pain escape from his deep brown gaze. I smile at him, grateful to see his face, but the moment I glance around him, my heart stops beating. I was laying on a tarp with a shovel beside it.

He was going to kill me.

"What ha—"

"It's over, ok? You're safe now." He kisses the top of my head.

I try to cry out when my body is jostled, but I can't find my voice.

"NOW!" he roars, carefully lifting me into his arms. Heavy footsteps dart up the stairs. I am no longer on the cold concrete floor; my body feels like it's floating.

"I"m so fucking sorry," he cries while gently tucking my face closer into his warm chest. He smells like wood, just sweeter.

I"m so tired. Tired of the pain and suffering from the hands of those who were supposed to love and protect me.

What have I done to deserve this?

I want peace.

I want to live without pain.

The last thing I remember are loud wailing sounds in the background as the beating of my heart slows down, then losing consciousness and drifting away into a deep sleep.