I forced myself to breathe and stay calm. The mold encrusted walls returned as my eyes focused. There was a phone number.

Call me for blow-jobs ask for Chrissy big wet kisses

For fuck's sake. I finished peeing, and twisted sideways to see if there was paper. There wasn't. I had to get my pants up again. Hell would freeze over before I asked for help.

"Done yet?" Todd asked. "Toss it out the window."

"I can't," I said, strangely embarrassed that I couldn't take care of my piss.

"Leave it." He jerked on the rope, impatient, and I walked slowly to the room and back to my spot on the floor.

An hour passed, as my shoulders and arms began first to ache and then to scream from being held in place. I could just see my watch, but I tried not to check more than a couple of times. The light outside grew dim with dusk and bugs screeched in the woods. Todd smoked cigarettes.

Thirst dried up my mouth and throat, and by the time my watch said that two hours and seven minutes passed, it was worse than the pain in my shoulders. It struck me that Todd hadn't moved in a while and I shifted onto my knee to turn and look at him. Shuddering, I dropped to the floor and closed my eyes.

He had been staring at me, snake-like. The axe was leaned against the nightstand, casual and cool, as though nothing was out of the ordinary with having it within reach.

"You are getting your hair messy," Todd whispered. He crawled down the length of the bed towards me. His fingers brushed my head. I thought I might puke. "You have such pretty hair. It's like my sister's used to be."

He combed his fingers through it, setting every nerve screaming a warning. Then he grabbed it like a pony-tail, lifting it off my neck. His fingers were on my skin. "You should wear it up. You would be real pretty."

Analyze. Act. Save yourself.

I couldn't, though. I couldn't do anything, but sit there while he studied me up close.

"Real pretty." He dropped my hair. "It's too damn quiet here. We'll go to the lake tonight. You and me. There's always a good time to be had at the lake."

He sat back but my heart pounded so fast it hurt. I tried to work some spit to swallow and ease my thirst, but my sandpaper mouth and throat were too dry. He had drowned his best friend and a girl in the lake. I had to act.

"Is there anything to drink? Can I have some water?"

"I've got whiskey and beer."

"I'm underage and thirsty," I said.

"We all were once upon a time."

I dropped my head on my knees, hoping he didn't have anything to drink or eat lying around. I had to convince him to leave.

"What about food?" I asked.

"I've got cigarettes. Just be careful not to set the carpet on fire. I guess it's highly flammable after soaking in alcohol for God knows how many years."

I shuddered at the thought of burning alive. "Todd, could I please have something to drink and eat?"

"Lookit, I've got whiskey and cigarettes. It's what's for dinner."

"My hands are tied; I can't even hold the bottle."

He lit another cigarette, taking a long drag, and relaxed on the headboard. "Don't say I didn't offer."

I waited five minutes. "Maybe you could pick something up. At a vending machine. There's a gas station not so far away. All I'm asking is a bottle of water, some chips and a Snickers. I'll even pay for it. I've got ten bucks in my pocket. Get something for yourself, too."

He stamped out the cigarette's burning end. A plume of dying smoke drifted into the cloud of toxic fumes that already filled the room. Without a word he stood up and grabbed a bandana off the TV, and shoved it between my teeth as a gag. He tied it at the back of my head, tangling up my hair. I winced, but didn't complain.

"Be a good girl, all right? Not that anyone will hear you and I promise, no one is going to come running if you start screaming, anyway."

A wave of fresh air rushed in when he opened the door, then he was gone.

I immediately stretched my legs out as far as they would go, contorting my pain filled arms and shoulders to get as low and long as possible across the floor.

There were beer bottles only a few feet away from me—I could use one to cut the rope. If I could snag one. I should have been able to move the bed, it didn't look that heavy, but it was stuck tight.

Joints on fire, I pinched a can between my two boots and began to drag it across the carpet, the voice of that idiotic guy from Star Wars on repeat in my head, "Almost there. Almost there."

There were footsteps outside, rushing to the door. My heart squeezed. I pulled my knees in sharply, trying to bring the can close enough. The door burst open, Todd was black against the twilight. I kept my legs up to shield the can from sight. He would kill me. He would throw me in the lake with my hands tied.

He grabbed me, wrenching my arm. I screamed through the gag and kicked at his head.

"Brooklyn, Jesus, it's me, Brooklyn!" a voice yelled.

I knew that voice. I stopped struggling. Joshua. But it couldn't be Joshua. He pulled the gag from my mouth.

"Calm down, let me untie you."

It couldn't be Joshua. "How did you find me? Where are the police?" I asked. He had a pocket knife and bent over to saw through the rope. My wrists were raw with rope burns, and new pain flared in my arms as I finally could change positions. I scrambled backwards. Something was wrong.

"Joshua, did you call the police?"

"No. I finally figured it out. Come on." He pulled me to my feet. "They told me where to find you. They told me where to take you."

It was his face that was wrong. I broke the hold on my hand. I'd seen that look before, both fiery with belief and flat like the dead. I'd seen it in Todd's expression today, and a million times in Alicia's face.

I bolted for the door, to run.

It swung inward, sending me reeling as Todd burst in. He took a quick glance at us and reached for his gun.

Joshua moved faster than me, like an animal. The gun fired, the shot went wild. Todd grabbed him, and forced Joshua to the ground, the nozzle of the pistol inching closer and closer to his face.

"Brooklyn, help me!" he screamed.

"Don't do it!" Todd yelled. "He's one of them now. Don't you see it? Smell it? Come on, you little shit, what did he promise you?"

A phone—I had to call the police.

The gun—I had to save Joshua.

The axe—I could hit...someone.

But Todd was right. Something was wrong with Joshua and, shit, I didn't know who to trust. Joshua couldn't have known where we were, and should have called the police, or brought them along.

But Todd wanted to party at the lake tonight.

I grabbed the axe, and swung the side into Todd's skull, a sickening thump thundered. He collapsed onto Joshua.

I ran. Without a backward glance, I took off for the gravel road. I would wave down a car when I hit the street. A stitch formed in my side, but panic propelled me on.

Alicia was walking down the middle of the road among the trees. Her car was about fifty yards away at the street.

I yelled her name. She smiled.

"Go! Run! Get the car—he has a gun!" I waved at the car, motioning for her to run, but she continued her stroll as I raced towards her.

We met and I pulled her along. "Hurry the fuck up, Alicia, I'm serious. Where's your phone? Call the police." My voice rasped and scraped out of my throat.

"Hold this," she said and shoved a heavy pair of scissors in my hands.

"How did you—" The sharp crack of gun fire rang out.

I glanced over my shoulder, Joshua stood in the doorway of the cabin. His eyes found me and he yelled my name. He was coming.

"Run!" I ordered Alicia, shoving her forward. She sprinted ahead, like a bleach-blond gazelle. A new spike of adrenaline spurred me on, but my legs were beginning to give out.

She reached her car, but the pounding steps behind me were getting louder. She fiddled for her keys.

"Hurry!" I shouted and spun. Joshua was practically on top of me.

"Brooklyn!" He was running too hard. I lifted my hands and braced.

Something shoved me forward. Joshua hit me, throwing his weight against mine. We went down, hitting the grassy edge. Hot, sticky liquid gushed on me and I was screaming.

Alicia pulled Joshua off, and he flopped to the grass. He didn't react. He didn't move. I gasped for air, blood soaked my hands, my arms, my chest. It welled up past the scissor hands protruding grotesquely from right under his ribs and oozed onto the dirt. It bloomed a fiery sunset on his shirt.

There was blood everywhere, spilling onto everything. Except for Alicia. She had on white gloves. She shook her head, tisking at his body.

"I followed him on a hunch. Do I have great ideas, or what?"

A car was coming, the motor and wheels humming in the distance. They would call the police. That detail seemed like it should be important. I knew I should want the police.

But they would see I killed my friend.

"You know, I'm just in the way here. I'll be in touch soon, though," Alicia said. She clapped a hand on my shoulder as goodbye and I reached up to catch her hand with my blood soaked one. Those gloves were too white.

She was already gone. She hopped in her car and drove off, seconds before the police arrived.

Joshua's glassed eyes stared unseeing as I knelt over him and screamed. This was what it meant to be human.

*** Thank you for reading and please hit the star if you loved it. Even if you hated it because she just killed her friend on accident. Or did she? Or was he still her friend? We don't actually know. ((hugs)) ***