Part 64

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---Sylvia---
"I'm so sorry, my songbird," he was shaking even more violently now, and my heart was pounding out of my chest, "I don't know what you did.. I- I don't... You.." he shook his head, "You pissed off the wrong people, I think. They came here... I have to..."

I didn't understand.

After setting down a pill bottle with a scratched off label, he stumbled and reached down under his desk, producing a bottle of vodka. I felt sick. The muzzle of the gun continued to stare me down as he reached over and grabbed a smudged up glass cup from a corner table. He set the three of them together, side by side on the marked up desk.

"Pour yourself a drink," he said. When I didn't move he cocked the gun and yelled, "NOW!" I numbly walked over, thinking about the key in his pocket to the locked door. I lifted the bottle as he pressed the gun to my head.

Some courageous part of my brain told me to smash it over his head and make a run for it. Another whispered about the barrel of the gun. I pulled off the cap and tried to pour a glass. I missed the cup, maybe because I was drunk or maybe because I was shaking so bad. He just watched.

When I finally got it right he said "Put a pill in." he watched as I unscrewed the bottle. The tablets were small, circular and white. I'd never seen them before. I picked up a pill and he jerked the gun forward a bit, knocking me in the head. Not hard enough to drive me unconscious or even make me fall, just hard enough that I knew there would be a mark. He took the pill from me and dropped in into the liquor. I watched it dissolve in record time, leaving a few bubbles at the top as the only reminder it was ever there.

The vodka smelled like just vodka. It trickled down the cup as I lifted it.

"Drink," he hissed and I brought it to my lips. My drunk, terrified, adrenaline riddled brain raced for an idea. An escape plan, a murder plan. Anything. Anything.

Nothing.

The door was locked and there was a gun to my head.

The music was so loud.

I wanted to call his bluff but I didn't think he was.

He grabbed the back of my head with his free hand. The spot on my head where he'd hit me was throbbing and his words clawed up his throat and stung my ears like ice.

"Drink,"

It was sweet and hot, all the way down.

Soon after, my head began to spin. And the rest of my world followed, crashing into darkness.

---Ricky---
I checked my phone to find... A picture of the floor? What the hell, Via? I could see what looked like the edge of her boot in the top corner, but other than that it was just dark stained carpet.

I guessed she had been drinking. Drinking too much just like I'd told her not to. It pissed me off a bit that she was even doing that at all. She was under twenty-one. It was illegal and she knew it.

I propped my legs up on the coffee table. We wouldn't be having any skype calls tonight. I just hoped she was smarter than she'd been every other time I'd seen her intoxicated. It worried me.

Over to my left, Angelo was making food and yelled when Ryan walked over and pounded his fist down upon it. Balz was already asleep in his bunk and Chris was on his laptop doing what-the-fuck-ever. I had no idea where TJ was, I think in the back.

I stood up and stretched. Thought about texting Mena before realizing I didn't have her number. I didn't have any of Via's family's contacts. No way was I gonna text her and ask for them right now.

Hey, I know you're drunk out your shit right now, so I want you to give me your mom's phone number so I can tell her you're drinking underage and need to be picked up.

Yeah, nope. Even drunk she wouldn't stand for that.

I took myself over to the fridge and looked through while Angelo walked away Ryan stared at me, waiting for his next prey. I pulled out some ice cream, grabbed a bowl and began spooning it out. When I went to put the container away Ryan moved in for the kill and I threatened him with a spoon.

"Fuck off," I hissed and he backed away slowly,

"..This isn't over..."

I lowered my spoon. Bastard.

I ate my ice cream and messed around on my phone for a while, scrolling through twitter. My brain worried on and off about Via, because I knew she didn't make good decisions when she was drunk. I knew she wouldn't be smarter.

I went to bed that night, with the lingering feeling that something was wrong digging an endless pit in my stomach.

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