Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
I’m a fucking turtle. Tears sting my swollen eyes, and I hate myself for crying. I’ve done it so much in the past few days.
The door opens once more. “I think you’re ready,” one says.
And I dig my hand into the ground, feeling the dirt under my nails.
“It’s okay, Ashtyn. We’re going to play with you first,” one taunts.
I scramble to get behind a large tree and press my back into it as they laugh. Looking down, I see a small puddle of water. It’s from the guy hosing me down this morning after he whipped me. I push my hand into it, digging my fingers into the mud and grabbing a handful. Bringing it up, I cover the bell connected to my collar. Squeezing my hand around it, I try to fill the small holes with mud. If I can pack it full of it, you won’t hear the bell when I run.
It doesn’t work like I want it to. So I lie down, getting my face and neck as close as I can to the puddle and grab another fistful. I do it a few more times until there’s not much left, and I shake the collar. Tears of relief fall from my eyes when there’s no ringing.
Getting to my shaky legs, I press my back into the rough tree and take a deep breath. It’s now or never. They gave me the opportunity I’ve been needing. No one will ever find me out here. Wherever the fuck here is. I have to do this on my own. Save myself.
I push off the tree and run as fast as I can in the opposite direction of the house and farther into the woods.
Have you ever had those dreams when you’re running for your life, and one of your legs doesn’t work? You drag it behind you? That’s what I feel like right now. I have no shoes, no clothes, and no fucking clue where I am, but I’m running for my life. I can feel my pulse racing and blood rushing in my ears.
I refuse to look back. It’ll just slow me down. I’m sucking in breath; my side aches, and I can’t hold back the sobs of relief at how close I am to freedom. I try to be quiet, but it takes everything I have to stay on my feet. They hurt so bad as I step on sharp objects and twigs. I trip over a log covered in leaves and land on something sharp that takes my breath away.
Rolling onto my back, I blink looking up into the night, seeing all the stars twinkle as my shaky hand comes to my side. I whimper when I feel something sharp sticking into me. It’s glass.
Looking to the right, I see the reflection of brown glass. It looks like part of a broken beer bottle, and if I had to guess, I’d say it’s part of what’s embedded into me.
“Ashtyn? Here, kitty kitty.” I hear the altered voice. “Come on, sweetheart, be a good pussy, and let me catch you.”
“Dude, that’s so fucking stupid.” The other laughs.
They don’t sound really close, but the fact I can hear anything tells me that I’m too close. Slowly, I get to my feet and keep going in the direction I was headed.
I’m exhausted. All I want to do is sleep, but if I stop, I’m dead. I hobble my way through the trees, dragging my right leg and holding my bleeding side. I’m having problems breathing, and my throat is closing up on me.
I can’t die here, not like this. Making it to a clearing, I sob harder when I step onto the blacktop. It’s a road. Two lanes and curvy. I start to walk down it, looking over my shoulder to make sure they’re not on my ass. Lights come around the corner, and I stand in the center of the two lanes, prepared to die if they don’t stop in time. It’s the only chance I have at this point.
I hold my heavy arms up and wave them the best I can when it comes to an abrupt stop, almost hitting me. I fall to my knees, my head hanging, when I hear car doors open and close.
“Jesus Christ,” a man hisses.
I lift my head, but I can’t see anything since the headlights are even with my already blurry eyes.
“Where the fuck did she come from?” another one demands.
“Pl-ease?” I manage to get out. “They’re…coming.” Who knows how far out they are.
“Get her in the car.” Hands grab at me and yank me to my feet.
I whimper as I’m picked up and cradled to a hard chest. Car doors open and close as I’m placed inside.
“Phone,” I manage to say through cracked lips. “I need—”
“A hospital.” One interrupts me.