Burning Out

13- disputes

Song- Arabella by the Arctic Monkeys

TYSM FOR 1K READS (ik it's not much compared to others but I genuinely screamed into my pillow when I saw it) ily ily ily ily ily <3

p.s. sorry this chapter took longer to come out, I've been busy with school work and it's slightly longer than the others x

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The torturous journey continues for about fifteen minutes. I'm completely blind to what's going to happen to me. Why would these random people take me? There's some fucked up people in this world.

They drive in scary silence, occasionally glancing at me through the rear-view mirror. The drivers eyes send shivers down my spine every time we connect eye-contact in the reflection. He glares at me and I see flashes of confusion or anger - I can't work out which one it is.

The surroundings outside of the window are completely unfamiliar to me, it looks completely opposite to the glamorised and expensive New York that everyone knows of. The buildings around are crumbling and grey, windows are smashed and graffiti layers the eroded walls. The whole environment is depressing.

I shut my eyes and rest my head backwards, trying to calm down my hyperventilation. The two men in the front of the car both have huge frames, huge arms and I'm sure they have some kind of weapon on them somewhere. I couldn't fight them even if I tried. 

Helplessness is starting to grow inside of me, as much as I try to contain it, I can't. The thoughts of doubt keep creeping inside of my mind as much as I try to wrestle them away. The fear of saying something that makes them snap and get aggressive encloses me and forces me to keep my mouth shut.

My eyes are still locked closed when I feel the car stop to an abrupt halt. I fly my eyes open and dart to look out of the window at my location. It's just a dead-end road. The sky is still dark and the surroundings are still run down.

I feel a large hand grasp onto my shoulder and shove me back into the middle seat, turning my face to see the two men staring back at me through the gap in between their seats.

One of the men turns to the other and shares a disturbed look with him before turning back to me and denting me with a horrifying glare. They both mutter something to each other but it's so quiet that I can't understand the words spoken.

"How old are you?" one of them then raises their voice enough for me to hear.

"Eighteen," I speak for the first time since getting in this car, my voice coming out slightly trembly due to the intensity of this situation.

"How long have you lived in New York?" the other man demands.

"Only about a week."

"A goddamn week, what the fuck," he says quieter, turning to the other man. "Why were you watching them?" he interrogates in my face again.

"Who are you?" I ask instead of replying to his question.

"I'm the one asking the questions here," he shouts at me.

"I was following my," I pause to think, "friend." 

I lied, he is most definitely not my friend and never will be. His strong presence and haughty personality scared me at first, but now I just despise him. He's rude and insolent. He's audacious for even thinking that I owe him respect. Respect is earned not given, just because he's older than me and worked at the company for longer doesn't mean he's any more superior than me.

"Your friend? What's his name?" the other man speaks out.

"Leonardo Alvarez," I reply without any hesitancy. These men are dangerous but if it gets me out of danger then I'm not afraid to give out his name, even if it puts him in danger. Call me selfish for trying not to die.