I was leaning up against the back of Buck's bar, smoking a cig, when some Soc walked up to me.
"Aren't you on the wrong side of town?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He just scoffed, walking over to me. He placed an arm around my shoulders, and leaned in real close. I could smell his cologne, it filled my lungs, and it was way too strong. I coughed, causing him to back away from me. He scowled and wrapped him arm around my shoulders again, this time he put his hand over my mouth and forcefully dragged me away from the bar. I tried to scream, but my cries for help were muffled underneath his hand. I tried to bite him, but it didn't seem to phase him. I started kicking and squirming, which only made him angrier.
"Stop it, bitch." He ordered at me. I squirmed one more time, then gave up. When he put me down, I would make a run for it. But he didn't put me down. He carried me from Buck's place to a warehouse on the other side of town. He pulled me inside, flipping on a light switch. The warehouse was rather empty, except for a few boxes here and there. He finally put me down, and that's when I tried to make my escape, but it didn't work. His muscular arm came down in front of me, blocking me from moving any further, and hit me in the stomach - hard.
I fell backwards as the air was knocked out of me. He took advantage of this and pulled me off of the ground, gripping my arm tightly. He violently shoved me, and I remembered the knife I had in my pocket. Thank God I had decided to bring it with me tonight. He had me against the wall, and I could feel the cool metal of the warehouse through my shirt. He curled his fingers around the hem of my shirt and pulled upwards, ripping it off of me. He pushed me against the wall even harder as he leaned into me. His lip grazed my collar bone, and I felt an uneasy knot in my stomach. I tried to shove him off, but he had at least 150 pounds on me.
His hands reached for the button on my jeans, and he worked it open, pulling my jeans down my thighs. He pulled me away from the wall, and put his hand on the back of my neck. I glared at him, and he pushed me across the warehouse, making me trip over my jeans. I landed on the concrete floor of the warehouse. I glared up at him as he walked over to me. He leaned over me, reaching for my arm. I slapped his hand, making him even angrier. He grabbed my wrist, and twisted, pulling me off of the floor. I pulled my jeans up with my free hand, and crashed against his chest. He put his hands on my throat, squeezing tightly. I fumbled in my pocket for my knife, and finally grabbed ahold of it.
I pulled it out of my pocket and stabbed him with it. His hold on my neck went slack, and I looked into his eyes, they were dull, and the next thing I know he's on the ground, blood puddling out around him. I gasped, and realized where my knife was protruding. I killed him. I grabbed the knife, and scrambled through my pockets for my phone. I dialed Jamie's number, hoping she picked up.
"Hello?" She answered.
"Jamie...Jamie...oh my God. Jamie." I was gasping and crying and shaking. I was terrified. I didn't want to go to jail.
"Brenan, where are you? What happened? Calm down." Jamie ordered.
"I'm in some warehouse on the other side of town. Some Soc tried to...I killed somebody Jamie." I whispered, shaking. I wiped some tears from my cheeks, and looked for my shirt. I noticed it on the floor, it had a big hole in it.
"YOU WHAT?!" She screamed.
"I didn't mean to, it was an accident, and he was trying to molest me and oh my God James, I'm scared to death. I don't know what to do." I started crying harder.
"Call Kyle. He'll help you." Jamie sighed.
"Okay," I cleared my throat and hung up the phone. I dialed Kyle's number, and looked around anxiously until he answered.
"What's up?" I heard him say.
"Kyle, it's me, Bren." My voice cracked and I started crying again.
"Bre, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" He asked. I heard people in the background and I figured he was with some friends.
"Can you come to the warehouse on the other side of town? Like, now? Oh, and bring me a shirt, please." I asked, getting scared more and more each second.
"I'll be there in 10." I heard him say before hanging up.
10 minutes later Kyle strolled into the warehouse, with a shirt in one hand. He didn't notice the body until he was closer to me. I heard him curse under his breath as he quickened his pace. He looked at me once before handing me the shirt. I slipped it on over my head, but continued to shake.
"Bre, calm down, it'll be okay. I'll take care of everything." Kyle wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me against his side. "Want to explain what happened?"
"I was behind Buck's place, smoking after a game of pool, when this guy walked up to me. He grabbed me and carried me here. He tried to...you know, and then I stabbed him. I didn't mean to kill him." I started crying. I felt so vulnerable.
"Come on, help me get him to my car. We can keep him someplace until early, and then we can bury him." Kyle sighed, grabbing ahold of the guys legs. I grabbed his arms and we lifted him off the floor. Getting him to the car was easy, it was getting him in the trunk that was hard. We finally did it though, and Kyle drove us to Buck's place. He ran inside and quickly explained to Buck what had happened, and asked if we could keep him in the storage room for an hour or two. Buck and Kyle took him into the storage room, and when they were done, Kyle and I sat at the bar until around 3.
We took the body out to the country, and buried him there. The whole ride home Kyle kept asking if I was okay.
"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to stay here tonight?" Kyle asked. We were sitting in front of my apartment, and I was playing with the hem of the shirt Kyle had given me.
"You can if you want." I whispered, looking up at him. He smiled at me, and stood up. I stood up, too, fishing the key out of my pocket.
I unlocked the front door and walked inside, with Kyle following me.
"Bre, it's going to be okay. No one's going to find out. It'll be our little secret, okay?" Kyle smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. I nodded, and hoped he was right.
xoxo, Bren.
