I sat on the floor of his shower, staring at the fresh tracks on my arm. 

He's kept me locked in his apartment for the last 2 weeks. He's pinned me down and forced needles into my skin more times than I can count. At least 2 to 3 times a day. He doesn't care how sick it's making me, or that I don't want it. I've given up on fighting him. Every time I try to push him away or stop him, he reminds me of what he can do to me. He's beat me bloody multiple times. So I stopped. I just gave in. 

Just thinking about him makes me sick. I want to kill him. I want him dead. But I can't kill him. I'm so fucking dope sick, I can barely walk, let alone kill someone. 

I flexed my right hand and attempted to make a fist. I got about halfway before it just stopped working. I couldn't bend my fingers any further than that. My hand shook as I moved it. I couldn't straighten my fingers fully either. I attempted to move my wrist in a circle but couldn't do much more than move it from side to side. 

I sighed and dropped my hand. I looked up, allowing the stream of warm water to hit my face. 

I should probably get out, before he gets mad at me. 

I stood up and shut the water off. I grabbed the towel that was sitting on the counter and wrapped it around my body. I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment, hating how I looked. I looked like a junkie. I was pale and had the worst dark circles under my eyes. I lost a lot of weight too. My pupils are blown. I had a black eye and a cut across my cheek from his ring.

I hate this shit. I want him dead. 

I walked out of the bathroom and glanced over at him. He was sitting at the table, counting his money. 

I pulled my pants on as well as my hoodie. He sent someone to get some of my clothes since I was gonna be here for a while. 

He motioned for me to go to him. I walked over to him, sighing as he pulled me onto his lap. 

"Gimme your arm." He said.

I rolled my eyes and held my arm out to him. He pushed my sleeve up and grabbed a needle from in front of him. 

He held my arm still as he stabbed it into me and pushed down on it. 

Once he was done, he pulled it out and shoved me off of him.

I fell on the floor. I didn't bother moving. 

I looked up, seeing a big kitchen knife sitting on the edge of the counter. I could probably grab it. I could kill him. I don't know if I can move fast enough though. And he has a gun. 

I need to get out of here, away from him. I don't care how sick I am. I need to leave. 

I pulled myself to my knees. I glanced at him. I don't think he noticed me. He's too focused on his money. 

I reached up and grabbed the knife. 

I turned back towards him. He didn't look away from his money. "What are you gonna do with that?"

I didn't say anything. 

He finally turned to look at me, his eyebrows raised. 

"You're in no condition to run, so even if you do manage to hurt me, you'll never make it out of here."

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. 

Before I really gave myself a chance to think about it, I moved towards him as quickly as I could. He grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. He stood up and pinned me to the table. He dug his fingers into my hand until I dropped the knife. 

He laughed. "Wow. I didn't think you had it in you."

He released me and I spun around. My movements were slow and lethargic. If I wasn't high, I could've killed him easily before. 

He leaned down and picked up the knife.

"You just never seem to learn, do you, babe?" He asked.

I saw it coming but my body was moving slower than my brain. I didn't have time to fully process it before he drove the blade into my stomach.

I cried out and collapsed on the floor. 

"Now, I could let you bleed out, but I do enjoy your company." He said. "So, I'm not gonna let you die...but I'm not gonna help you just yet. You can suffer for a little while."

He sat back down and went back to what he was doing. 

I held my hand over my stomach, panting heavily. 

"Don't worry. I didn't hit anything vital. It's just a flesh wound."

"I hate you." I whispered. 

"Good."

~~~~~~~

When I woke up, I was still laying on the floor in the same spot. I pulled myself up so that I was leaning against the counter. Devin was no longer in the kitchen. I looked around. There was a big puddle of blood in the middle of the floor, right where I'd been laying. I looked down and lifted up my shirt. There were stitches going up my side. 

I got to my knees, and grabbed onto the counter. I used the counter to pull myself to my feet. 

I looked around the apartment, not seeing Devin anywhere. I heard the shower running. 

He'd never leave me alone and unsupervised. Unless he didn't think I'd wake up yet. Which is probably the case. Because if he ever leaves the apartment, he cuffs me to the bed or something, so I can't run. But he also knows that I can't run right now. Walking hurts. 

I made my way over to the bathroom door. I looked through the crack. He was in the shower. He had music playing. 

Now's my chance. And this might be the only chance I get. 

I took a deep breath and walked towards the door as quickly as I could. I grabbed one of his burner phones off the table on the way over. I shoved it in my pocket and opened the door. I looked around the hall, seeing no one there. I pressed the elevator button over and over, looking around as I waited for it to open. As soon as it did, I got inside and and frantically pushed the close button. I pushed the button for the first level while I dialed Kuza's number on the phone. I won't be able to get out of here without help.

It rang a few times before I heard his voice. "Hello?"

I pushed the button to stop the elevator where it was. 

"Kuza. It's Ricky. I need your help." 

"What happened? Where are you?"

"Devin's kept me locked in his apartment. I don't have much time, I'll explain more later. I just need you to get here. He stabbed me. I got away while he was in the shower, but I won't make it far without your help."

"Jesus Christ. Where are you now?" He asked. "I'm leaving now."

"I'm in the elavator."

"Okay. Just get out of the building. I'll be there in 5."

"Okay. Thank you."

I hung up and threw the phone at the ground as hard as I could, shattering it. I can't risk being tracked. 

I started the elevator up again and waited the few seconds for it to go all the way down. I stepped out and left the building. I turned and hid in the alley beside the building, waiting til I saw Kuza's car pull up.

It took a few minutes, but eventually I saw Kuza's black Camaro speeding down the road. He stopped in front of the building and I ran over as quickly as I could. I got in, panting softly and holding my hand over my stomach. 

He quickly sped away, glancing over at me. "What happened?"

"Devin, he was keeping me in his apartment. He wouldn't let me leave. I was there for 2 weeks. He's trying to get me hooked on junk again. I've been clean since I left. He knows that if he gets me hooked, I can't leave him because he's the only one that can give it to me. So he kept me locked in there and kept fucking forcing me to take needles full of the shit. Earlier, maybe last night even, I grabbed a knife and I was gonna try and stab him and run, but I was too high. I wasn't fast enough. He took the knife and stabbed me. When I woke up, he was in the shower. I wasn't restrained or anything. I was still on the kitchen floor. I got up, I stole one of his burners and I took off. I called you from the elevator. I destroyed the phone."

"Jesus fucking christ. This kinda shit is exactly why we keep begging you to come back." He said. "He's a dead man."

"No." I said. "I'm not coming back for good, Kuza. I needed help and a safe place to stay. That's it. And you are not killing him. He is mine to kill."

He sighed. "Fine."

"I'm gonna need some weapons though."

"I know."

---------------

What do yall think is gonna happen?

~xxLux