My voice was hoarse and my throat was sore, so the sounds that came out at first were pitiful at best. Moans and cries quickly became gurgling screams. Finally it was when I heard commotion outside the space that managed to piece together a word in my mind.... HELP, but although I tried, I couldn't speak.
I heard footsteps just outside the space, and the rustling and clinking of metal. Then a click....a key was turned. I felt a rush of air and light as the trunk opened.
I had somehow ended up in the trunk of a car.
My eyes adjusted to the light and I squinted to see a familiar face. He was staring down at me shaking his head. It was Pete. Light surrounded his head like a halo...he was my angel. A very short one, with red hair and freckles, and sporting a black trench coat. In our five year friendship he knew a few things with absolute certainty.... that I would end up in bizarre situations, and that he would always be the one to rescue me whether he liked it or not. He was the only person who knew me well enough to find me.
If it wasn't for Pete.... I felt for sure I would be dead. This fact far outweighed another.... that he could be a complete and utter asshole. Despite that fact, I knew that he cared. And no matter what he did, I found it difficult to be mad at him for more than a few minutes. How could I be angry with someone who saved my life many times? I always felt bad. I knew that him looking after me like a big brother was preventing him from having any semblance of a normal life. He never seemed to stop complaining to me about it. But underneath the complaints was a genuine regard for my well-being. It was his duty to protect me, and that was a job he took upon himself.
The first thing he did was rip off the tape covering my mouth, without a warning. I winced, and tears immediately flowed from my sore eyes. Having done this many times before, part of me always wondered whether he got some sort of personal enjoyment out of it. His movements were matter of fact, he had been through this so many times that he didn't need to think. That alone was ludicrous.
He removed the rest of the tape, grabbed one of my elbows tightly, and helped me sit upright. My legs were shaking and cramped. "Come on, do you think I have all night?" he asked impatiently.
"I'm trying", I said. Taking slow movements for what seemed like eternity, I finally managed to will myself out of the car. My legs buckled beneath me and I crouched to the pavement. Pete knelt down behind me and smoothed my hair from my face. The parking lot seemed to spin, at first slowly and then faster like a carnival ride. I vomited all over my blue Keds and the pavement in front of me.
Pete patted me on the back. "Good girl", he said. "Feel better?"
"No, I feel like shit", I said. "Whose car was I in?"
"I'm amazed you even need to ask that question", Pete said.
"Whose?" I persisted.
Pete sighed. "Devin's".
©Carrie-Ellen as Kat Matheson, 2009-2012, Picker Penguin Press
Previously posted exercepts:
Chapter 14: http://www.witchyblog.com/
Chapter 12: http://www.witchyblog.com/
Chapter 9: http://www.witchyblog.com/
Chapter 5: http://www.witchyblog.com/
Chapter 21: http://www.witchyblog.com/
Chapter 22: http://www.witchyblog.com/
Chapter 24: http://www.witchyblog.com/
These chapters are from an upcoming book entitled In a Perfect World.
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