The (not so) Good Girls Bad Boys: The Good, The Bad and The Abandoned

24- Bite Me.

Pizza Hut sounds nice... Or maybe Mc. Donald's... Yeah, a big, fat, greasy whopper aught to do me good...

I was torturing myself by day dreaming about all the food that I was just itching to get a bite of, but I couldn't help myself. Maybe if I thought hard enough I could taste a little bit of it...

My stomach sounded like a lawnmower, but now that I actually had the money to get something to eat, I didn't let my hunger drive me completely mad. Instead, I let the thought of food fuel my determination to find a fast food place through the pain of my swelling ankle.

I took a look at my mental map of the city, and figured if I took a couple more turns, I would be right across the street from a McDonalds.

A few minutes later, as suspected, the big, yellow M came into view across the street from the alleyway I was walking down. The greasy scents that came from inside could be smelled from all the way across the street, making my stomach growling upgrade from a lawnmower to a jet engine. My mouth salivated at the thought of getting my hands on a whopper, but I restrained myself as I was about to walk into the open street. I was still pretty close to Charlie's Place, and if Raymond was still searching for me, he might be able to find me around here.

Though he didn't know who I was, I didn't want him to recognize me from my clothes. Eager to get some food, I started to pull my hoodie off with the thought in mind to ensure he wouldn't recognize it. Luckily, I still wore that leather jacket from earlier underneath it, so it wouldn't be terribly cold without my hoodie. I crossed my arms and grabbed the rim of my hoodie and began to wriggle out of it as I pulled the fabric above my head.

How stupid I was to blind myself for even just a second in a city like this.

When the body of the hoodie was covering my face and eyes, big, strong arms grabbed me from behind and yanked me backwards, into the alley. My first instinct was to fight back, but I was like a turtle stuck in a fishing net: tangled and incapable of escaping. With my arms caught within my hoodie and stuck in a position above my head, there wasn't much I could do to defend myself, so I struggled and kicked behind me as the person restraining me tightened their hold.

Being unable to fight back, I began to panic and opened my mouth to scream before what I'm assuming was the person's other hand reached around me and clamp over my mouth. I continued to thrash in the persons grasp, knocking over a few garbage cans in an attempt to be heard from the streets, but being bound, blind, and muffled, there wasn't much I could do.

With the fabric of my hoodie in the way of my mouth, it was difficult to bite down on his hand, and when I did, I felt like I wasn't doing much damage. After being dragged for what felt like a fair distance from other people, I finally managed to get my mouth around one of his fingers and bit down as hard as I could. A masculine voice cursed loudly, and I was suddenly thrown to the side and against a hard brick wall. My head took most of the impact and I suddenly felt light headed and dizzy. When I tried to get the hoodie off my head and run away while I was free, my legs suddenly buckled beneath me, causing me to collapse and knock over what I'm assuming were more trash cans considering the loud sound of metal hitting the cement.

I continued to trip and stumble while I attempted to get away, and I could here the persons mocking laughter as footsteps approached. My breathing was labored and panicked as I managed to get the hoodie off of my face, and look in the direction of my captor right before his beefy hand reached down and grabbed a fistful of my hair, dragging me back against the brick wall as my strangled cries echoed down the alley. I groaned when he violently shoved my head against the wall, but still continued to struggle and shout. Though my head was untangled from the hoodie, both my arms were still caught within the sleeves, which he held behind my back with one one of his hands as he reached into his pocket with the other.