The BoxX

"You don't believe me do you-"

We sat in the school hall and his face was shielded by his fur hood. His deep brown eyes were always bloodshot. His mid length black hair is a mess. His arms were always covered.

I shrugged my shoulders, "You're the most mysterious person I've ever met so anything is possible."

He looked over to me with sad eyes, "I shouldn't have told you."

"Why because they people you work for will kill me-"

"So you don't believe me," he shot back at me, "if you believed me you wouldn't make light of it."

"I'm not sure what to believe-"

"Don't believe any of it, forget about it all," he got up off the floor of the school and walked out of the building.

I never saw him again, perhaps because I believed him.

The recent memory sticks to the walls of my skull trying to stay as far away as possible but there isn't anywhere to go.

I sat in a chair in the middle of a damp dark basement. The air smelled musty and my hands were clammy. I turned my head over my shoulder and saw a guy leaning against the wall on his phone.

At any moment I could be killed and there was nowhere to go. I could scream but who would hear me? Instead I decided to keep choking on air from trying to quiet my hyperventilating.

"We've been here for awhile where are you-" the man's words were cut off by another man's voice over the phone. I couldn't make out any words. I couldn't even focus on my own thoughts.

He was right, it has felt like hours and my legs were losing feeling from staying so still. It felt like hours listening to mumbles and floor boards above us creaking.

I wasn't tied up, which is saying a whole lot. I wasn't getting out of here but to not try was like accepting death; commiting suicide. The tension in my muscles goes tighter with each passing second.

"What do you want me to do-"

I launched out of the chair and threw my body up the stairs.

I heard him shout out as I smashed open the door and looked around for the nearest exit.

I was staring at blank dirty walls and shadows coming around the corner. I ran two quick steps towards a door with boards across the window. Arms were thrown around me, lifting me off the floor. I kicked and screamed frantically.

I felt my foot kick off a wall and I had pushed us backwards firmly enough where he slipped on the hardwood floor. Sock feet and hardwood floor was a dumb choice.

The landing was blunt and shook the walls. I squirmed out of his grasp and saw a guy whip out a knife at me.

"Darren put the blade down-" a man hissed through his teeth.

The guy with the knife was shaking and bug eyed. His cheeks were hollow and his body sticks and bone. He had a stained white tank on.

There were three of them. The other two were sturdy and rugged. One had an old gray hood up and the other wore a tight crimson tee.

"I SAID PUT IT DOWN-" one guy raised his voice.

I soon realized within the chaos I had bolted and ran straight into his blade. I had collided so unyielding into him, we went stumbling backwards. He had smashed his head on the wooden stairs. I crawled over his lifeless body up the stairs, ran across a kitchen and up another flight of stairs. The hallway was pitch black.

Everyone was silent, maybe they were processing the situation. I ran from room to room trying to dislodge boards over the windows but nothing was giving. I bashed my fists on the thick wood and dug my nails under the nails frantically.

I lodged myself between a toilet and a wall in utter debility. I then asked myself what I had my hand wrapped around. The palm of my hand was slipping off a metal handle wedged in my torso. Thick black warm liquid ran down my fingers. I felt puzzled and slid the metal out of my side. My eyes went wide as I lost grip from shaking.

"Don't-" I saw a shadow looming in the doorway with a hand out, Heavy boots made their way upstairs, he tried to turn the bathroom light on. It wasn't working.

"I found her!" He alerted them, he put a hand out cueing me to stay down, He tore off his shirt and shoved it into my side. I couldn't understand why I wasn't feeling screaming pain. It was merely a lazy spreading dull ache..

The front door opened and slammed, "What the HELL is going on?!" A voice split the air in two.

"Oh man…" the guy knelt beside me wouldn't stop staring at the knife on the floor. I wasn't sure if he was saying that about the knife or the boss.

A shadow loomed in the doorway and he attempted flicking on the light. The man in the doorway turned on his phone flashlight.

"Jesus-" I was guessing it was their boss the way everyone stayed behind him. The guys all seemed like they were waiting on him to lose his mind and nothing was said for a few stretched seconds.

The boss knelt down and tried to examine the damage. He flung his hand into the air, "I can't see shit-"

He quickly forced me to my feet, pressing my shoulder against the wall, steadying me.

"You're going to hate me."

"I already hate you-" He threw his arms under me and lifted me up. I felt pressure in my ears and my eyes pulsing.

Everything was happening rapidly. The violent car ride to a place I've never been before. The unknown destination had anxiety choking me.

The fireworks inside my chest were the worst part from the erratic terror. I didn't feel like I had a heart anymore. It was like a fist trying to break down a wall from inside me.

As I sat pressing my back into the seat of the car the manager was pressing a towel into my side. I couldn't see what he looked like. I only noticed his deep and angry voice and cold glistening eyes.

He had big hands, one holding the shirt on my side and the other clutching my wrist.

"EASY Jess!" he shouted at the driver as we were trying not to be thrown around.

I can remember his breaths raspy and fast. His muscles were rigid and tense.

Suddenly his footsteps seemed to ricochet beneath me. I was slung over his shoulder, I could see his feet running yet in slow motion. The word was a glitchy blur and a deafening buzz sounded when he shoved open a large metal door.