“Tell us exactly what happened,” Tony demanded.


“I-I don't remember…” I shook my head.


“Vic! Snap out of it! Would you at least tell us what you mean by you lost her?” Mike said sharply. I jolted my head up, staring at my three confused friends. Memories started to flow into my brain all at once, but in small portions. I couldn't make any sense of them.


“I w-woke up in my fucking car here,” I managed to say.


“Vic,” Jaime hissed through clenched teeth. I felt delusional. I felt helpless. I looked up at them, my eyes shallow and empty. I couldn't remember anything. My mind was completely and utterly blank.


I cleared my throat and tried to speak again. “I woke up in my car. There was a note on my dash saying ‘wait inside’. So here I am, waiting inside. That’s literally all I know. I don’t know where Spencer is or who has her. All I know is that she’s not at the house nor is she here,” I said as slowly as possible.


I brought my hands to my face again, and then I gripped my hair with my hands in distress. Why did this have to happen? Where did I go wrong?


“How long have you been sitting here?” Tony asked. I shrugged my shoulders.


“A while,” I said, my voice shaking.


“What is the last thing you remember?” Mike pressed.


I thought long and hard about that. My brain ached from thinking. I felt like my head was going to explode. “No, no, no,” I muttered to myself. That was the last thing I remember. That was the last thing I remember hearing.


“What?”


“No, no, no,” I repeated. “That’s the last thing I remember.”


“Did you see who said that?” Tony asked.


I shook my head. I had been too busy kissing the soft skin of Spencer’s jaw to notice. “And then a crack,” I mumbled.


“What?”


“No, no, no,” I repeated again. “No, no, no, a gasp, and then a crack,” I mumbled again, touching the back of my head. It was sore. I had been hit over the head with something.


“Vic, for the love of God, make some sense,” Mike huffed.


“Nothing makes sense!” I yelled. People turned to look at me in alarm, but I ignored their judging stares. Nothing made sense. How can so many terrible things happen to one innocent person? Whenever something good happened, something bad ruined it. How did that make any sense? When will she ever catch her break?


All of a sudden, though, my mind recognized something. Something made sense… He was at the party last night. He made Spencer uncomfortable. He is the manager of this Starbucks. He fucking placed me here.


“Carlos,” I breathed.


“Hello, Vic,” I turned around abruptly to see the very man I so desperately wanted to see. Without saying anything, I lunged at his throat. My hands gripped his neck tightly, and he gasped for air.


“Where is she?” I growled. The rest of the customers stared at me in alarm, and the guys pried me off of him.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vic,” he snickered.


“Fucking bullshit!” I yelled. “I’ll kill you,” I snarled through my clenched teeth.


“I’d like to see you try, short stuff,” he snickered again. I took that as an invitation to lunge at him, again, but, unfortunately, the guys held me back again.


“Is there a problem here?” I groaned, seeing a police officer come into view. I sighed. Who the fuck called the police? I thought angrily.


“No,” I growled, just as Carlos said: “Yes.”



“Yes, this man attacked me without precedent,” he said, showing the police my hand mark on his neck. “He assaulted me,” he smirked at me.


The officer sighed, clearly not wanting to deal with the minority of the situation. But, Carlos was a pussy. “I’d like to file a complaint,” he said.


The officer sighed again, whipping out his handcuffs.


“You’re kidding…” my jaw dropped.


“Unfortunately not; duty calls,” the officer said prior to reading me my rights. He snapped the cuffs on to my wrists behind my back.


“Mother fucker,” I grumbled. “You’re a God damned coward!” I spat at Carlos who was still snickering.


The officer practically dragged me to his car as I yelled more curses in Carlos’ direction. I felt this weird sensation of anger and weakness as I screamed at Carlos but simultaneously had tears streaming down my face. This was too much to handle.


The officer pushed me into the back seat and slammed the car door shut.


The car door slammed shut. The door was locked; I was locked in and far too disoriented to break out. I rammed my shoulder into the inside of the door, anyway, but someone told me to stop. The voice was angry and threatening, so I obeyed.


When I partially relaxed, I came to my senses. “Where the fuck is Spencer?” I yelled at the man who was driving. I banged on the clear glass divider that kept me from reaching him.


“Spencer is none of your concern, anymore,” he growled. I punched and slapped the divider at his remark.


The car stopped abruptly, and then the door swung open. A man I didn’t recognize dragged me out, stuffing me into a car I did recognize. My car. There was another terrible hit to my head, and then I blacked out.


“Hey! Hey! Stop that!” I opened my eyes to see a police officer holding me back, my limbs flailing in uncontrollable ways. I gasped, stopping immediately.


“I’m sorry,” I choked. “Spencer Martin,” I said quickly.


“Huh?” the officer looked at me like I was deranged.


“She is missing. And Carlos—the guy I attacked at Starbucks—threatened her. I’m sorry I attacked him and created a scene, but I know he has something to do with her being missing,” I said in one breath. “He should be the one who is arrested, not me,” I added.


“That’s not for you to decide,” the officer said. “But, listen, bud, I’m not actually going to arrest you. That was not nearly serious enough for you to be charged with anything substantial. Just stay away from him and let us do our job, okay?” he said to my surprise, unlocking my handcuffs. I held my wrists tenderly.


“Thanks,” I mumbled.


“Now, describe to me what happened,” he said, whipping out a notepad and pen.


I told him everything I remembered. I started with telling him the weirdness of Spencer’s boss showing up to the party. I continued, telling him about the disapproving “no, no, no” and being hit in the head and then being taken away in the car, then waking up in my own car with an ominous note. I told him about how Carlos snickered when I asked him where Spencer was and the way he seemed to toy with the subject. He was guilty; I was sure of it. He was a fucking psycho, managing a Starbucks straight from hell.


I also described Spencer in the most detail as I could: her long, wavy black hair, her striking blue eyes, her red, small lips, her pale skin, her small figure, her shoulder tattoos…


I then realized that I never got to ask her what her tattoos meant. A shooting pain ripped across my chest; I hoped that I could see her again; because that would be the first thing I would ask her. I felt this sudden need to know everything about her, every single little detail.


“Please find her,” I said, my eyebrows knitting and my eyes stinging. It was all of my fault. How could I let this happen? How could I let another demon enter her life?


The police officer nodded and then left, leaving me alone in the parking lot. I felt my knees go weak as another piece of the fateful night rushed through my head.


“No!” my eyes lazily rolled open when I heard a familiar shrieking noise. I marveled at her voice; I was disappointed that the sound was so familiar. No girl with such a pretty voice should have to cry out in grief like that.


A felt something sharp on my neck, and everything became fuzzy.


A hoarse voice with a faceless head growled in my ear. “She’s mine, now.”


My memory was cut short when I felt my legs fail completely, and my head cracked painfully on the ground, sending my mind into oblivion.


~~

“Why does so much bad shit happen to us?” I moaned before even opening my eyes. Something cold was held on my head.


“It’s okay, Vic,” Mike’s voice reassured me.


“Is it?” I jumped up—probably a little too fast—and glared at him. “Because last time I checked Spencer is fucking missing at the hands of yet another psycho,” I spat.


I closed my eyes in stress. I didn’t mean to lash out on my brother, but I felt so helpless and worthless. How much tragedy can one person handle in their lifetime?


I toyed the blade in my hands for what felt like the millionth time. Well, maybe it was. I just didn’t see the point in life. I couldn’t see myself in the future. I couldn’t imagine myself growing up and doing something meaningful in my life. Whenever I imagined my future, I never actually saw myself there. I saw Mikey there, but not me. I was missing from the picture. That had to mean something, right?


I felt the familiar feeling of tears prickling down my face. God, Vic, why are you so weak? I traced the vein in my wrist that stood out more than the rest. This one vein was very visible; it was the perfect vein. It was like my wrists were made to be cut. As if that was their only purpose. There was only one ending to this story: death. Life always ended. You live in order to die. You are literally made to die. And, now, I was one slice away from my ending. It wouldn’t be that hard, right?


I was just so damn tired. Tired of the voices in my head. Tired of living. Everything I did, someone did it better. Everything I tried to do, I failed. Everything I desired to be, I never became. I never intended to be a depressed and self-harming teenager. I didn’t deserve this. I thought, at this point in my life, I would be happy. I wanted to be happy, I desired it, but happiness seemed to skip over me. My parents were loving. Nothing specifically made me feel this way. Sure, I was bullied a little at school for my hair and music taste, but I knew deep down that wasn’t the root of my problems. I was just fucked up in the head. There was no root of my problems. I was just overwhelmed with life, and I was done.


I scribbled a note on to a spare sheet of paper:


“Mom & Dad: This isn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourselves. I love you. –Vic”


Did this make me selfish?


Yes.


More of a reason to do it. I was selfish, and I deserved this.


“Mike: I’m sorry to leave you, but you don’t need me. Stay strong and be the best you can be. I love you. –Vic”


I folded the pieces of paper and set them down on the floor outside of my bedroom door. I wasn’t really sure why I chose to put them there.


“Vic, no!” Mike raced into my room as I dragged the blade vertically up my arm. Pain, yet euphoria, entered my veins as blood exited at an alarming, yet satisfying, rate. I was numbing; I didn’t feel Mike’s hands desperately holding my wrist together. My eyes were glassy and I was finally happy as I walked towards the light.


The happiness only lasted briefly, though, as I heard my brother’s shrieks for help before I was welcomed by darkness.


“Promise me you will live for me, Vic,” he cried into my shoulder when I woke up groggily in the hospital. I mentally cursed at myself for allowing Mike to see me like this. I didn’t want him to walk in on me in the middle of my sinful act. I never intended to hurt him more than necessary. Guilt overwhelmed me, and I wished that I were dead even more than ever. It was always a constant battle between wanting to live for the people that loved you and so desperately wanting to die for yourself.


“Vic, stop,” Mike’s voice brought me back shortly to reality. I looked at him carefully. I have never felt so weak.


No, that was wrong. I have felt weak way too many times in my life.


“Welcome to Hell,” Drew Sanders snickered, sending tremors through my body. I couldn’t run, for my legs were broken. I couldn’t hide, for I was in a small, windowless room.


My eyes widened in horror. “W-what do you want?” I asked, afraid of the answer that I was soon to receive.


I never quite understood how people could inflict pain on others for no real purpose.


“Vic!” Mike shook my shoulders. I was relieved that he brought me back to reality; I didn’t want to continue thinking about what had happened during my time in Hell.


“Sorry,” I mumbled. Our lives were stricken with tragedy for some ungodly reason.


Guilt swarmed in my brain at that thought, though. We were blessed to be where we were, career wise. We were in an amazing band and we had more fans than we could ever ask for. We were seen as inspirations to so many struggling kids.


“Vic, seriously, stop,” Mike said firmly. My face must have been reflecting the torment I felt inside. I shook my head. We were lucky to have the band, but I guess just because you were successful in that front didn’t mean that bad things couldn’t happen. It just seemed like bad things were always happening.


“Any word about Spence?” I asked, officially breaking out of my mind. Mike shook his head.


“Where are Tony and Himes?” I asked, looking around and noticing that we were sitting on the curb outside of that god forsaken Starbucks. Before he answered, I asked another question. “Is Carlos still in there?”


Mike shook his head. “He ran off somewhere before the police came back for him. He looked pretty pissed off, though,” he said. Suddenly, I had an idea, and I sprang up on my feet.


“What?”


Without answering, I walked into the Starbucks and let myself into the Employee Only section.


“Dude, what are you doing?” Mike hissed as I searched the back of the building for—Ah, yes! Carlos’ office.


I bit my lip and rummaged through his desk until I found his employee files. “If the cops won’t do this, then I will,” I said. “Here,” I said finally, taking out Carlos’ own folder. “That’s where he lives,” I tapped his address on the paper.


“So?”


“That’s where we are going,” I nodded. Before Mike could object, I dragged him to the car and sped off in the direction of Carlos’ house.


“He said, and I quote, ‘she’s mine, now,’” I told Mike. He shuddered. “So, naturally, he would take her back to his house, right?” I raised both of my eyebrows at Mike. He nodded, agreeing. He called Tony and Jaime to meet us there, and then we finally arrived.


It was a small house. It looked normal on the outside, but I dreaded to see the inside. There was nothing normal about the inside of that house.


“Ready?” I asked. Mike nodded.


“What are you going to do?” Mike asked nervously, like I didn’t have a plan.


Well, he was right. I didn’t have a plan. I only had one thing and one thing only on my mind. “I’m going to get my girl back.”

Notes

shit, i know. I didn't intend on getting so in depth, but I got carried away oh well!
sorry if it's too much

yay for it being 3:16 in the morning can't sleep hollaa