Sleep With One Eye Open

Chapter Six- The Match

Robert dragged me forcefully by my long blonde hair, pulling hard on my scalp, behind a bunch of other trailers, carefully avoiding the police. Andy still had a hold of my hand, while Danny and Oliver were close behind. We were running for what seemed like miles, non-stop, and my head was starting to hurt. I was thinking of going off on the guy, but we were already going to have a beating when we got to our next destination, so it wasn’t worth it.

Trampling over high weeds and boulders, we managed to find an abandoned house. Robert dragged led us up the back stairs and kicked the door open. It was dark inside and it smelled like mold and rotten food. I started to feel nauseous. Then Robert flicked on a light and inside the house was huge. High ceilings and spacious rooms, white plastered walls that seemed perfectly new. I could handle staying here for a while.

After Robert contemplated picking a room for us to stay in, he finally picked the master bedroom on the second floor. He threw us in as we hit the floor hard, and locked us inside. “I’ll be back,” He sneered from the other side, “I gotta find the other guys. By then y’all should be ready for your beating.”We listened as his foots echoed, becoming less audible.

We were finally alone again.

“Damn,” Danny commented. “The hell is up with this?”

I shrug, noticing mine and Andy’s hand were still entwined together.

“This freakin’ sucks,” Oliver says, “And here we thought we would be getting away with this.”

“Yeah,” Andy agrees, “I’m just dreading when Robert comes back.”

I nod slowly, as my whole body started to shake nervously. Andy then pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

“Just fight back then,” Oliver suggests.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Beat the guy’s ass.” Danny smirks, making himself comfortable in a random corner in the room.

Tears begin to fall down my face rapidly. Sniffling softly, I pulled out my phone, to check if I had signal. Maybe I could call Bring Me the Horizon’s manager on speed dial. All of my friends were either in Illinois, New York, or Ohio. At least the ones in America. My main buddies were in England. So no point in calling a friend, sadly.

My heart skipped a beat. I had one bar.

“I have one bar!” I announced in a hushed tone.

“Call the band’s manager!” Oliver said. Everyone else agreed. Calling the police would also be pointless.

“I was just thinking that,” I smiled.

I dialed the band manager’s number, Austin. It rang and rang. I almost gave up hope, until I heard a cautious, “Hello?”

“Hi! It’s Jane!” I say enthusiastically.