Stolen

Chapter Twenty

Matthew's head turns to the clerk with a familiar, charming smile stretching across his face. "Thank you so much, dear." He stated before glancing back at me. I felt like I wanted to melt right on the spot. I can sense that he was masking all of that anger and hatred towards me underneath that fake personality. The presence of the clerk is the only thing keeping me between life and death at the moment, or the security cameras.

I watch the clerk shake her head in disappoint as Matthew steps towards me slowly. I stay frozen with my eyes widening in fear, as the thoughts of what he'll do to me after this scurries through my head like a scared mouse. His combat boots clap against the floor each step, slowly revolving all the brutal memories he has given me, Timothy, and Xavier. He showed us pure evilness that can come from a ordinary human being, he showed us the official definition of hopelessness; worst of all, he showed us that don't jump to the conclusion that nothing can ever happen to you.

That may be the beginning, but I'm not sticking around until the end.

"I'm not going back.." I mumbled. Confused, Matthew stops in his tracks. The clerk and him exchange looks before staring back at me. "What did you say..?" He said, trying to hide the anger in his tone. Saying this might get me killed instantly, I can't predict Matthew at all. But I rather die trying to escape, than die without trying at all. Like I said before, I'm free, and I'm going to stay free. No one's going to stop me either. "I'm not going back!" I yell, before quickly scurrying to my feet.

Before Matthew could react, I sprint fast out of the store than I ever did before. As I run, I hear numerous footsteps follow after mine about a second later. Matthew is a fast runner. In track, he was always either first place or second in competitions. I can't even run a block. Me outrunning him is almost impossible, but I can't let him catch me.

I can do this, I thought, motivating myself. Fear and worry churns in my stomach like stew as I glance up to see the dude who was filling up his dirty, rusty car with gasoline. Unfortunately, he was on his phone, not giving a single care in the world about a kidnapped girl.

"Sir! Keep your car unlocked please!" I yell out, as I feel my adrenaline slowly giving out. I could hear my footsteps decrease while Matthew's does the opposite. My life is in this stranger's hands, but apparently his phone is more important than a screaming girl. Knowing that I wouldn't make it if I kept yelling, I ran straight to the man himself, and snatched the petrol tank from out of his fingers. Matthew instantly stops running once I aim it directly at him.

Silent, useless minutes passed by, noticeable beads of sweat forms on my forehead. The wind blows through my hair, making small strands move in front of my eyes, splitting my vision. Matthew tries to take a step forward, but I shake the petrol pump to signal to him that I'm not afraid to use it.

"You won't do--"

"Shut up." I immediately cut him off. "I don't need any distractions, tricks, or interruptions."

"Tricks? Ha, ple--"

"Shut up!" I yell again, as a bridge of tears form in my eyes. I didn't want to cry in front of Matthew, but I couldn't resist. He took everything from me. My new job, my parents, my life. In fact, I don't know what I'm going to do after this. I literally have nothing to live for anymore. I shake my head to clear the negative thoughts. No, I won't think like that. I will start a new and better life after this, and it won't end in that rotten mansion.

"Matthew.." I said in my calmest voice possible.

"Yesss..?"

"If you swear that you will go out of state, I wo--" before I could finish my sentence, Matthew tackles me to the ground. A scream launches out my throat, as we crash onto the concrete with a loud thump. He uses his hands to hold me down by my neck, choking me as hard as he can. I gasp for air as his mouth opens up to let out a sinister laugh. Thinking quickly, I press my finger down against the pump's trigger. Gasoline rises out of the pump like a fountain then splashing against his face, feeling loads of gasoline soak my clothes.