I Ran Away To Hell, chapter 5
Rachel's POV
"Uhh... " I moaned. My head was pounding and for a moment I thought I was in Billie's room. But Billie didn't keep pictures of me around his room... did he? Or pictures of me in the shower... how the hell did those get taken? I was scared now. Very scared. It wasn't Billie's room. It was some guy's room.
I stood up, unaware I was being watched. "Don't even think about it," A voice said. I didn't recognize it. A man with green dreadlocks stepped out from the shadows. Next to him was Al.
"Al! Person! What the fuck are you doing, and where am I?!?!"
The man with green dreads stepped forward. He grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Mademoiselle, you are very beautiful. I'm sorry I must participate in this," He said in a cheap, obviously fake French accent.
I stepped back, hitting the wall. "D-d-do-doing what?" I stuttered.
"Don't you remember? The abuse, the feeling of being worthless shit. I know you like it 'cause all women are the same," Said Al. The green haired man looked at his shoes.
I nodded. "Oh yeah... I remember. How'd you know I liked it?" I shrieked.
"All women are the same," Was his reply.
I decided to play along. "Well, Al, sweetie, before you start... what's the word I'm looking for... oh yes, lovingly abusing me, can I go to the bathroom?" Al thought for a moment, and nodded.
"Mr. Frank will go with you."
"It's Tré Cool," The man muttered. He walked towards the door and opened it, motioning for me to go.
When we reached the bathroom, I knew I couldn't escape. Tré was bigger than me and could easily take me down.
"Billie. Wherever you are, please come to rescue me from this nightmare."
Billie's POV
"Yes officer. I turned around, calling her name, and she wasn't there," I said, slightly aggravated.
The fat man turned. "What do you want me to do?"
"My girlfriend went missing! She's probably getting fucking abused by that bastard Al Sobrante! You should know what to do!" I yelled, waving my arms around.
"Who is this Al Sobrante?"
I sighed. "His stage name is Al Sobrante. His real name is John Kiffmeyer."
The man's eyes widened. He immediately called for back up and pulled me into his patrol car.
"How do you know Kiffmeyer?"
"He's the drummer in my band, Sweet Children."
We pulled up to Al's house. As I listened, I heard Rachel's screams. I raced towards the door.
"Stop!" yelled one officer. His partner caught me by the collar. Tears flowed down my cheeks and onto the dimly lit sidewalk. My vision cloudy from the tears that wouldn't stop, I ran out into the street. Then I blacked out.
Rachel's POV
I opened my eyes and saw a white ceiling. Looking around, I realized I was in a hospital. Ollie was asleep in a chair, and Billie was in the bed next to mine.
"What the... " I whispered.
"I was hit by a car when the police were getting you out of Al's room, Al beat you up pretty bad, and... Al is in custody, but Tré isn't as it wasn't really the Tré he claimed to be. And... that's about it," Said Billie.
Tears flowed down by face and I smiled. Billie did all this for me. For me. The little slut who ran away at eleven years old.
Now Al was in custody and Billie and I could get on with our lives. But it was all short lived. This was just the beginning of it.
The End
"Uhh... " I moaned. My head was pounding and for a moment I thought I was in Billie's room. But Billie didn't keep pictures of me around his room... did he? Or pictures of me in the shower... how the hell did those get taken? I was scared now. Very scared. It wasn't Billie's room. It was some guy's room.
I stood up, unaware I was being watched. "Don't even think about it," A voice said. I didn't recognize it. A man with green dreadlocks stepped out from the shadows. Next to him was Al.
"Al! Person! What the fuck are you doing, and where am I?!?!"
The man with green dreads stepped forward. He grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Mademoiselle, you are very beautiful. I'm sorry I must participate in this," He said in a cheap, obviously fake French accent.
I stepped back, hitting the wall. "D-d-do-doing what?" I stuttered.
"Don't you remember? The abuse, the feeling of being worthless shit. I know you like it 'cause all women are the same," Said Al. The green haired man looked at his shoes.
I nodded. "Oh yeah... I remember. How'd you know I liked it?" I shrieked.
"All women are the same," Was his reply.
I decided to play along. "Well, Al, sweetie, before you start... what's the word I'm looking for... oh yes, lovingly abusing me, can I go to the bathroom?" Al thought for a moment, and nodded.
"Mr. Frank will go with you."
"It's Tré Cool," The man muttered. He walked towards the door and opened it, motioning for me to go.
When we reached the bathroom, I knew I couldn't escape. Tré was bigger than me and could easily take me down.
"Billie. Wherever you are, please come to rescue me from this nightmare."
Billie's POV
"Yes officer. I turned around, calling her name, and she wasn't there," I said, slightly aggravated.
The fat man turned. "What do you want me to do?"
"My girlfriend went missing! She's probably getting fucking abused by that bastard Al Sobrante! You should know what to do!" I yelled, waving my arms around.
"Who is this Al Sobrante?"
I sighed. "His stage name is Al Sobrante. His real name is John Kiffmeyer."
The man's eyes widened. He immediately called for back up and pulled me into his patrol car.
"How do you know Kiffmeyer?"
"He's the drummer in my band, Sweet Children."
We pulled up to Al's house. As I listened, I heard Rachel's screams. I raced towards the door.
"Stop!" yelled one officer. His partner caught me by the collar. Tears flowed down my cheeks and onto the dimly lit sidewalk. My vision cloudy from the tears that wouldn't stop, I ran out into the street. Then I blacked out.
Rachel's POV
I opened my eyes and saw a white ceiling. Looking around, I realized I was in a hospital. Ollie was asleep in a chair, and Billie was in the bed next to mine.
"What the... " I whispered.
"I was hit by a car when the police were getting you out of Al's room, Al beat you up pretty bad, and... Al is in custody, but Tré isn't as it wasn't really the Tré he claimed to be. And... that's about it," Said Billie.
Tears flowed down by face and I smiled. Billie did all this for me. For me. The little slut who ran away at eleven years old.
Now Al was in custody and Billie and I could get on with our lives. But it was all short lived. This was just the beginning of it.
The End
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