The hotel room was just as dirty as the rest of the building. Sheets falling off the bed, a window with a ripped curtain, and terribly maintained sleeping places. Just then, I heard the ringing of a cell phone. Brian answered it and looked concerned. "Stay here," he grumbled as he left the room. I watched him go to the parking lot and walk to his truck. There would be no way I could escape, Marcus was at the front desk. I walked around the room trying to find a phone to call 911 with. I opened drawers and rummaged through everything. In one drawer, I saw a familiar face. Blonde hair, teenager. This looked like the boy online. The boy who I thought I was talking to. This was the boy in the picture, the one Brian pretended to be. I found another picture of the boy, similar to the picture Brian had sent me a few days ago. I wondered who this boy was, and if he was the real Brian. I walked around, trying to find a weapon to attack Brian with when he wasn't expecting it. I heard water running so I turned into the bathroom. There was no water. "Must've been my ears," I told myself. I searched and searched trying to find a phone but I found nothing. I pushed back the ratty shower curtain and had a moment of hope. I found a gym bag, and I was hoping there would be a phone somewhere in it. I opened the bag and screamed. Inside the bag was the boy in the picture. I screamed and screamed, staring at the lifeless eyes of the boy. I didn't want to know how Brian fit him in the bag, so I didn't think about that. I couldn't look away from the empty stare of the open eyes. This was the boy in the picture, Brian knew that too. If Brian had done this to him, what would happen to me. "I told you to stay here!" Brian's voice surprised me and made me jump a mile high. I tried to run for the door but Brian was to fast. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me back and forth. "My friend's coming in, you're my girlfriend, got it?" He whispered. I shook my head slowly. A woman entered the door. There was no way to describe her other than "fake." She had huge lips and a face clearly full of injections. Her blonde hair was obviously in desperate need of a dye, and her clothes looked way to tight. Her dress was as short as the one Brian forced me to where and her high heels were at least five inches. "Hey," She greeted in a raspy voice. "Angela, this is my girlfriend," Brian smirked. Angela glared down at me. "She's a young one Brian," Angela said, "Why'd you pick her?" "The younger ones are more fun, they're more wild," Brian laughed. "Well, have fun with her than," Angela growled. As Brian walked away, Angela pulled my hair. I was going to cry out but she covered my mouth. In my ear, she whispered, "That's my man. He likes me, and I don't want someone like you stealing him. If you guys do anything, I will kill you. He's mine." She called me awful names and made me swear to not steal her man. I promised and she left the room. When Brian came back, he was smiling. He pushed me toward the bed again and smiled. He pulled my shirt. As I refused, he slapped me until I stopped resisting. I was terrified of Brian, but even more terrified of Angela's words, "If you do anything together, I'll kill you." I didn't want to be with Brian, I didn't want to do anything or be his girlfriend. He had tricked me, what didn't he get? I screamed and screamed but nobody heard my screams. Brian told me repeatedly to shut up, but the pain wouldn't leave. He pushed me and jerked me back and forth. He told me I was being to loud and making too much noise. "Ain't nobody gonna hear ya honey," He hissed, "We the only crazy kids here." I continued fighting him, but he was stronger than me. Brian left me alone after awhile. I didn't want to fight, he had overpowered me and eventually he would kill me. I wished he already had, it would have been a fast death. Soon, Brian came back. He turned the lights off and started snoring. I rummaged around his drawers and bags. I found a small pocket knife. I walked to the edge of the bed and made sure he was sleeping. Just as I raised the knife about his heart, he woke up. "What the heck are you doing?" He growled, cursing at me. I stammered and tried to back up. He pinned me against the wall and slammed his lips against mine. I fought him and he pushed me. He took the knife from me and threw it across the room. "Listen, I don't want to hurt you," He panted, "I want you. I don't want to be alone, I love you." I shook my head, "No, no, no," I kept repeating, getting louder and louder. "You've made too much noise, we're out of here," Brian growled, thrusting me out the door. We were walking to the car in the middle of the night. I didn't feel like myself. As I had predicted, a part of me was left in that hotel. I wondered about the body in the gym bag, and became horrified thinking of how Brian could do whatever he wanted again. We were soon driving through the night. I sat in silence for a long time, thinking. I wondered if I'd ever be able to get myself back from this man. I watched as we drove further and further away from my past life. Then, I saw a cell phone. I watched Brian take a drink of alcohol and I knew he wasn't watching me. I picked up the phone and dialed 911. Before the operator could talk, I put the phone on speaker phone, and hid it under my leg. "Brian, why did you choose me?" I asked. When he responded I made sure to put the phone closer to him without him seeing. "Because baby, you were innocent. You're a cute girl, and you're young. You're fun, we can spend a lot of time together," Brian explained. I heard the operator typing, and I hung up the phone. A while passed and I wondered why the operator wouldn't help me. I saw Brian's head jerk as the car swerved. I heard a loud boom. "Tire's out," Brian cussed. Then, another boom. I looked out the back window and saw the flashing lights of a police car. I madly waved my hands from the back seat, turning to face the car. "Did you call the cops?" Brian asked, screaming at me. I couldn't respond. "Did you call the cops on me?" He demanded again, grabbing me. I still didn't talk. "I thought you loved me. I thought we'd spend time together. I thought someone finally loved me!" He yelled, slamming his fists against the steering wheel. The cops were firing now, at the wheels to slow the car down. Brian threw the beer bottle down and cussed. He picked up the gun and faced it at me. "Baby, we're going together," He cried. I shook my head. "You love me!" he cried. "No, no I don't, I hate you!" I yelled. Now, I couldn't stop. "I hate you I hate you! I hate you, you monster! You ruined me, I hate you!" I was letting my emotions go. "I hate you, you ruined my body!" I slapped him. He turned toward me and was actually crying. "I thought someone loved me," He cried. I sat there quietly. "I hate myself!" He screamed as he slammed his head on the wheel. "You're like everyone else, I thought you were different!" He cried, grabbing my shirt again. The gun was raised to my face. This is it, I thought. I closed my eyes as the gun went off. Nothing hurt. I kept my eyes closed and touched my face. It didn't feel bloody, it felt fine, there was no pain. I sat with my eyes closed for a few moments while everything was silent. I opened my eyes and saw Brian slumped over the steering wheel. The gun was still in his hand, still with bullets. I looked at Brian and saw the bullet in his head. The gun shot was for him, he had shot himself. I was sitting in the car. Yes, I was alive, and he was dead. I kept repeating that to myself. My body felt wrong, and my mind was out of control. I sat crying in the car. "Ma'am, what's your name?" The police man that grabbed me asked. The police were here now, they were pulling me out of the car. "Are you okay?" Another officer asked. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. A woman officer took one look at me. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked sympathetically at me. I broke down and sat on the ground, crying. I don't know how long I sat there, but it felt like ages. I closed my eyes and let my body do what it wanted. I cried until I couldn't breathe. The rain came and the officers were on the phone. After a while, a man was hugging me. A man that smelled familiar, it was Dad. I couldn't look at Dad in the face, I couldn't look at anyone. Nobody could be trusted anymore. I stared back at the car, with Brian's body slumped on the window. As we drove in the police car down the road, I looked back and couldn't turn my gaze.
I was brought into the hospital. I explained to the doctor's what happened. They bandaged my shoulder that Brian had dislocated and my head that Brian had given a concussion to. No matter how many times I was wrapped, the scars couldn't go away. The emotional scars that Brian left on me, and my body, would never disappear. Sometimes, I'd see a man and go paranoid. I'd think it was Brian and we'd have to leave. I had monthly check ups with the doctors. The emotional scars and the memories would never leave. As much as we never talked of them, we all knew they had happened. The were like an invisible film covering our lives. Everyone tried to act normally, as if they couldn't see it, but you couldn't help feel the tension it created. I knew Brian was gone, but I still couldn't shake the images out of my head.