Bulletproof [Godsmack]
Graphic Scenes
I joltawake as if a burst of energy hits me. I sit up on the bed, my eyes darting around my room. The door is still locked. It’s dark outside; nothing looks to have changed since…
What happened? I was awake one moment and suddenly felt drained the next.
Did they… did they drug me?
The handle of my door jiggles.
My stomach drops, and I lie back down and pull the covers over my head. The door clicks, and I hear it creak inwards. I breathe in and out as evenly as possible so it seems as if I’m still sleeping. They must have tried to drug me to keep me asleep. If they notice I’m awake, I am afraid of what they–
“Where do you think she puts her phone?” Dad spits.
“I… I d-don’t know,” Mum cowers.
“You told me you would fucking find out this morning. What the fuck were you doing, slut?” I breathe out and keep my body from jolting when I hear the slap. “You’re fucking useless. Youhad one job: to figure out where Noya hides her phone so we can grab it before she wakes.”
“S-sorry,” Mum whimpers.
Dad groans, exasperated.
I clench my eyes shut while Dad’s hands pat the bed, moving my body and slipping his hands across where I lie. My heart sinks, but I already know when he cackles in satisfaction. The phone was underneath my pillow, and he now has a hold of it.
“Hmm, she has a lot of messages from Sammy. We need to think of a reason she’s not going to school anymore after tomorrow.”
What?
“I can do it after we leave.”
“Bitch, you couldn’t even find the fucking phone.” Mum whimpers when I hear another slap. “Get the fuck out of here and pack our shit. I want us out of here tomorrow night.”
I hear Mum’s scurrying footsteps fleeing. Dad stays in my room for slightly longer. I sense his presence above me as if he’s waiting for me to move. When he’s satisfied, he leaves, taking my phone with him. He closes the door, and I hear the click as if he locked the door from the outside.
I wait a few more minutes, afraid he’s in my room, waiting in the darkness until I move. When I hear them in the other room, I pull the blankets down and exhale a longing, shaky breath.
That was close.
Moving? Is that what they’re going to do tomorrow night? They’re going to drug my food, maybe even my drink. And when I’m out of it, they’re going to smuggle me in the car, tie me up, I presume, and we are leaving the city—leaving everything behind. I wouldn’t have my phone, so Conner wouldn’t know where I went.
I should have memorised his number. I’m an idiot! Why did I put his number in without trying to remember it first?
My eyes widen, and I look up at the fan. Conner’s number is in there. I should… where’s my chair? I blink a few times, hoping the chair will manifest itself with every blink. But this is reality, and inside reality, the chair is gone. Therefore, how am I supposed to get the phone without making a massive amount of noise?
I fucking can’t. There’s no way for me to get the phone without them hearing it.
Shit.
I scurry around the ground, struggling to see the little light of the moon and streetlights. Grabbing a shirt, sweatpants, a jumper, and sneakers, I quickly change while listening to them pack their belongings in the other room. I assume they think they will pack my things while I’m at school.
I put my socks and sneakers on, ensuring they are double-knotted, before lying back in bed. There’s a chance they might come in again, and I don’t want to be bolting back from hiding beside the door if it happens. I will wait for the right time and run. I can’t call Conner when I escape, but I know where his home is. I can run through back streets and weave through yards if I must. I’ll do anything to escape my parents.
They are still packingby morning. I glare at the still fan, wondering when they will sleep, until I realise it’s too early for them to sleep now. If anything, Mum will sleep when I’m at school, and Dad will patrol the area. However, it seems like the only plan I have right about now.
“I’m going to have a quick shower,” Dad announces from their bedroom.
Closing my eyes for a fleeting second, the exhaustion weighs on me. Everything feels heavy until I hear the bathroom door close, and this surge of energy rushes through me. Without hesitation, I yank the blankets away from me and go to my door. I twist the lock and open the door, my sights on the front door, when I stiffen.