OK THIS MAY BE A LITTLE CORNY OF A STORY BUT ITS SPUR OF THE MOMENT AND AT THE MOMENT I AM HEARTBROKEN. </3
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"I really need to talk to you, Mo." Dylan said. His voice was shaky and loud even though he was at the opposite end of the hallway. Tears were streaming down my face. I already had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say...
It was at least midnight and the hallway of the old, rotten motel I now call home was nearly pitch black. I've been living in this horrible place with Dylan and a few others since the accident. A few years back the "apocolypse" happend. Or at least that's what the few survivors call it. My entire family was killed, hell most of the world's population was now dead.
When I heard that my entire family was dead, I turned to Dylan. He wasn't exactly the best choice. He was just the first person I found that (I thought) loved me. Recently, the five of us that live is this pile of rubble haven't been getting along very well. I can see why, we have to fight to stay alive and other people just make that harder.
When my "relationship" with Dylan started, he swore to me that he would always be there for me. It now seems as though that ment absolutely nothing to him...
"I don't want to talk to you right now." I mumbled and continued walking in the other direction. I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere was better than there. "Mo! Get over here right now!" Dylan screamed. My response was simpy to say the one word that he hated, "No."
Before I even reached the door, Dylan came up behind me and had me in a choke hold. "Did you really just tell me no? Because you know what happens when you say no." he growled. With each word he squeezed my throat harder. "Let....me go...bastard." I choked. "No. How does it feel to be told no?" he said, spinning me around and punching me in my jaw all in one movement.
I was knocked to the floor by the impact. He came over to me and kicked my torso as hard as he could. I cringed in pain, and he fell on top of me. "You're not going anywhere until I talk to you." he spat. His warm breath hit my face and I detected traces of alcohol in it. Instantly, I felt myself begin to cry again. "Dylan, you told me you would stop drinking so much because it makes you do stupid things like this." I said pointing to my bloody mouth. For a moment he got a soft, sorrowful look in his drunken eyes. It quickly faded and his hand came into contact with my face again.
"I can drink if I want to! Get out of my face!" he spat again and got off of me. I stood up and shreiked, "You were supposed to be there for me, not beat the living shit out of me! What happened to the Dylan that I thought loved me?!" He spun around to hit me once more, but I ran out of the motel and onto the street before he could hurt me again.
