"Get up you little bitch."
If I'm going to die here, might as well have some fun.
"Make me."
His fist slams into my jaw. The cuts he made last night reopen. Blood flows down my neck.
"I don't have time for this."
He flips my chair over until I'm lying on my back.
Don't give up Charlotte. Fight back. Do it for Addie. Do it for Darren. Do it for Mom. Do it for Katie. Do it for everyone.
"You don't scare me."
He smiles, lifting my chair back up.
"I bet I can make you scared. Didn't you see the news? Bomb in the Richard Rodgers Theater. Want to know how it got there?"
I ground my teeth together.
"You're lying."
He shrugs, holding up a New York Times.
The heading make tears spring to my eyes.
Entire cast and 3 audience members dead.
It's not real.
It can't be real.
No.
He unties my hands. I punch him square in the face.
I don't notice his knife until it finds its way into my shoulder.
I scream in pain.
I curse.
I kick.
I close my eyes.
I try to bring myself to a place before this.
Before things turned bad.
Before I was married.
Before everyone dies.
Before New York.