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Can't go back.
"We think you should go back to live with your mother. You're not eighteen yet and we don't think this is the best environment for a teenager."
I stare at her dumbfounded, my mouth hung open unattractively. For so long I always questioned whether the police would really help me or not and today I found out the answer. . . They wouldn't.
"Trevor beats her and you want her to go back to that hell hole?" Jake says, breaking the si
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Tobias and I sit together silently for a few hours, binge watching a series on TV about a murder house. Occasionally one of us will make a slight comment when things get a little gruesome or exciting. There's a bowl of popcorn nestled between us on the couch and the sun is beginning to rise outside causing it to create a soft glow inside the room.It's early hours in the morning and the birds begin to sing their song. I yawn and stretch my arms over my head, shifting in position to get comfortable.
His Mission Mistake No.2
4pm. The Arm's Pub. Leave Jake at home or else I won't tell you anything.I read the text repeatedly, my eyes straining from not blinking. The words begin to blur on the screen and I sigh, leaning back against the wall. The time reads 3:58 and I'm stood outside The Arm's Pub,alreadyregretting my decision.
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His Mission Prisoner.
My eyes flutter open and I groan, a wave of pain shooting down my body. The pounding in my head begins to intensify and I groan again, louder this time. Everything begins to rush back to me, the memory hitting me worse than the ache I'm feeling.DC Jones, the pub, the drink. . .I'm fully awake now, my eyes wide with fear. I look down and realise my hands are tied with a thick rope, double knotted.
His Mission DNA.
The wooden door flings open, smashing into the wall behind it and I jolt awake, backing myself as far into the wall as I can go. My eyes narrow at the man stood in the doorway and I swallow the lump in my throat, determined to show him I'm not scared. I really am, I'mpetrified.I've learned the hard way to never show fear to men like Trevor and DC Jones. They thrive off it, it's what fuels them to carry out their evil actions. Others need oxygen to survive, not these kind of people. They live off fear, it's what keeps their heart beating.
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My heart almost leaps out of my mouth as I stand in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of me. The room is a complete dump, the musty smell so evident in the air, it was a strugglenotto gag. My jaw clenches as I meet his cold eyes,Jones.He's sat on the opposite side of the room, looking as calm as always, his signature smirk plastered on his evil face. His back is against the wall and I almost lose control as I notice Emi
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Beep... Beep... Beep...I lie my head down next to her lifeless body and shut my eyes tightly, letting the tears fall freely. My hand is wrapped around her small one and I squeeze it gently. My heart saddens at the lack of her response. A tube is lodged deep into her throat and wires are attached to every single visible part of her body.
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