P.S - I'm Not Your Barbie

You Have To Shoot Him Sweetheart, Or I'll Shoot You (Ch. 12)

His face leans in closer towards mine and I force myself not to move my head back. What is he trying to do? Scare me? Make me surrender? Oh buddy, the day I surrender to somebody, is the day I die.

"That can be arranged," he says, his breath mingling with mine.

On second thought, maybe I’ll save dying for another day. I don't think I want to die with him as my last picture of the world.

His angry, wait no, furious eyes stare at me with incredible intensity. Why can't he just look away? I don’t want to have to stare into his blue eyes and start a sappy romance novel where I say it was love at first eye lock. Not that I am feeling any of that or anything...

I feel like I'm in one of those old soap operas I used to have an obsession with when I was twelve. Did they have kidnappings and gangs in those things? I only remember the Japanese rich woman cheating on her husband with her best friends’ husband. Or was it that the daughter fell in love with the cat? I'm getting off topic here.

His face keeps on getting closer to mine, making my breath hitch. Why is my breath hitching? Why is there so little space between us? I normally can't handle any physical contact with another person and now I'm letting this idiot touch me? I can't find a place where we aren't, touching I mean. Well there are some places, like our faces, our calves... Jessica!

I wait for his next move, playing the multiple possibilities again and again in my head as if a movie on repeat. Will he beat me? Will he kill me? Will he kiss me? I think the third guess was the most absurd one of all. Kiss me, ha! That's funny. Never going to happen. Not on my watch.

His lips meet mine and suddenly, my earlier thoughts are no longer funny. What the hell? Tell this idiot to get his lips off mine! Do I look like I walk around with a "kiss me" sign on my back? At least he's not hugging me... I take out my phone from my jacket pocket and look at the time, 4:46 AM. Why is he still kissing me? Doesn't he know anything about personal space?

I thought I just said that he wouldn't be able to kiss me while I was watching... What is wrong with me? I really hope that nobody will ever even want to think of hiring me as a security guard, I can't even push away people that are kissing me. I don’t have any muscles in my arms, sue me. I’m worse than a 1900’s security camera.

May I ask why this always happens to me? Why I always do this? Something eventful finally happens in my life, and I start talking to myself about random crap.

I try pushing Jesse off of me, but he only smirks, probably happy that he is making me feel uncomfortable and weak. Stupid. Doesn't he know that this kissing thing he's doing right now isn't consensual? He could be sent to prison for manhandling me. He could also be sent to prison for all the shit he must be doing with his gang. There, I think it's settled, Jesse is going to be locked up for the rest of his pathetic little life because he's stupid. Bye, Bye Jesse! Don't send me letters while you’re in your 4x10 cage!

Finally, after those hours, minutes, of torture that I had to endure, he takes his grimy mouth off mine. Does he know what a tooth brush is? Aren't gangs supposed to like gold teeth? Not yellow teeth? I contemplate whether I should knee him or punch him. Touching a young lady such as myself in such an unorthodox manner is rude beyond belief... Teenagers these days.

"I hope you liked your present Jessica," he says in a mocking tone. Little arse. Does he know where he can shove his present up? Anywhere that does not touch me later, that's where.

"Let's go we're starting your initiation today." He says while grabbing my arm.

"I just got here, I'm not moving again." I reply, "And who told you that I wanted to be part of your gang?"

"Think about it. You don't have anybody anymore; your parents kicked you out, your sister left, and your dearest twin brother James... I think you get the point. So what do you have to lose?"When I don't answer, he continues pulling me towards the door obviously leading me to where my "initiation" was going to take place.

 If he even suggests that I have to kill somebody, I won't hesitate to, just as long as that person is Jesse. I won't kill an innocent, I may be dark, but I’m nowhere close to that kind of dark. I don't have it in me. Think about it, if you kill somebody, you have to live with the memory for as long as you live, it haunts you, especially if nobody knows about it but you...

We walk though numerous halls and I observe the rich furniture and painted walls. When we stop, I find my feet in front of two large doors. They were decorated with precise detail, making swirls in the most... Authentic kind of way. My eyes start following the path of one of the swirls, my curiosity getting the best of me. Who wouldn't want to see where those designs lead to? Maybe I'll find a secret code while I'm at it.

My little adventure comes to an end when a man with numerous, threatening black tattoos opens the door. Oh man, I was almost done. Do you think I could ask him to close the door and come back in a few minutes? I lift my head higher so that I can see his face. A head and a half taller than me! I think my adventure can wait a while. A long while...

"Come in boss, we have your order." the man with the tattoos says, not even sparing a glance at me.

Jesse steps inside the large room, pulling me with him. Obviously he doesn't trust me to walk on my own, he needs to hold my hand like I'm a child crossing the road with his mommy.

He turns around and glares at me. Can he read minds or something, I swear I didn't say that last part out loud this time. His eyes are still staring at mine, promising me things far from pleasure to be found in my future. I should become a detective... I can read into people’s eyes and stuff like that. I try again by look at tattoo guy and his angry eyes meet mine.

On second thought, I don't think I want to be a detective. Maybe becoming an accountant is a better career path for me...

I look around the room, expecting there to be a training room or something like that. I thought that "initiation" would have been to see how well I can fight. Maybe Jesse didn't need to see anything else on my fighting skills, seeing as I couldn't push him off of me earlier in his office.

I fight the urge to rub my eyes. This can't be real. This has to be a dream, maybe a nightmare.

The walls are white, hospital white, practically blinding me as I look at them. However, they are also covered with different shades of red. Blood is the first thought that comes to mind. I am going to die. They have brought me here to die. I will die in a stinky and dirty room with Jesse as my killer.

 I watch the guns and knives around me, making sure that my face is emotionless, expressionless. Which one do you think will end my life in the least painful way? If I die, I might as well die quickly. Not that I have a choice in the matter anyways, but a girl can always dream...

"Pick one," Jesse tells me, his mouth next to my neck. What did I say about personal space? Gosh.

I stay immobile. Why would I tell him which "instrument" to use when he kills me? I'm not stupid. I've watched enough Criminal Minds to know that this kind of situation never turns out that good for the stupid girl.

"I said pick one!" He snaps, losing his patience.

I grab the closest weapon to me, a sleek black handgun. Wow, a bullet through my head, what a great way to die. Thank you Jesse, but  I'd like to say goodbye to my loved ones if I may. I hear Jesse laugh. Where is the invisible key to lock your mouth when you need it?

"I want you..." he says adding suspense (where it isn't needed), "To shoot that man in front of you, in the heart and then watch him as he dies."

I look at the man and freeze. This isn't a man. It's a kid.

"No." I answer shaking my head.

"You have to shoot him sweetheart, or I'll shoot you." He smirks.

That's it for today! Comment and or vote! See ya.

-R