Do I Wanna Know?

PROLOGUE

Lisa's smoker cackle seemed to resound through the whole 512 square foot apartment as she laid sideways on the couch, resting her head in the lap of one man while the second held her feet. I could feel them all staring at me as I sat there with To Kill A Mockingbird propped open in my hands, not far from where John was sitting against the same wall.

"Grace, come here," Lisa coughed out another laugh, lazily motioning for me as the men smiled at each other.

I said nothing as I gauged the situation, blinking back at them through the haze of smoke suspended in the living room...also known as the bedroom the three of us shared. We lived in a true studio, one without a single door apart from the one to come inside and the one to the bathroom.

"Grace," Lisa called again, this time more seriously, and I could make out her impossibly red bloodshot eyes as she attempted to sit up. "The fuck did I just say to you? Come here."

My chest started to rise and fall just a little faster when I looked at John, and I could see him subtly shaking his head at me with his eyes only turned toward the direction of my feet outstretched in front of me. That was my cue to leave.

But as soon as I stood, the man holding Lisa's legs did too. Suddenly, he didn't look so high and stupid anymore. He looked angry, and he looked very much like he wanted to hurt me, but there was something else in his eyes; something that made me wish all he wanted to do was hit me.

"What's wrong with you?" He said, a random southern twang in his voice. "Don't you know how to listen? Can't you speak?"

"You don't want her," Lisa mumbled then, reaching for the burning cigarette on the side table by the couch. "She's stupid and she's boring."

My mouth stayed closed as I let my eyes travel around the apartment, trying to find something that I might be able to use to defend myself. It's not like we had real silverware or utensils in the kitchen, or real glasses, and the TV remote was too close to the couch for me to lunge for it. Besides, a TV remote? What the hell am I gonna do with that?

"She said come, so you come," he reiterated, snapping his fingers with a sharp whistle as if I were a dog.

I looked at John again, but he was quickly on his way to passing out. His eyes were struggling to stay open and his head kept lulling to the side, his hands resting loosely in his lap. He might be dying right then and there for all I knew.

Lisa was now fully making out with the man holding her head in his lap. I could see their tongues sliding into each other's mouths, but before they'd kiss, they'd just wiggle the tips of their tongues together to elicit the most disgusting wet sound.

I took the smallest step toward the door, and that was all the second man needed to see before he was lunging at me to grab me by my shoulders and slam me up against the wall by the ten-inch TV screen.

The wall made a cracking sound and I grunted on impact, turning my head away to breathe when he moved in close enough that I could smell the smoke on his scraggly beard. I heard Lisa begin to laugh as she told him to play nice with me, and I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Not this time.

"You're prettier than her," the man said. "How is that possible?"

When he let one hand come down to touch my waist, I felt my fingertips turning white as I clutched the hardcover book and raised it to smack it across his temple as hard as I could. That threw him off just long enough for me to kick him away so that he landed back on the couch.

I dropped the book and spun around to start working at all of the millions of rusted locks on the door, thinking how ironic it was that those were supposed to keep us safe when right now they were going to be the reason I didn't survive this if I couldn't just get out.