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The Broken One

Please Don't Do This

***Andy’s P.O.V***
I wake up later that night. The movie I had been watching was long over and a different one is playing. The light from the TV is the only light on in the room. Just as I reach over to the end table and flip on the lamp, I realize Cynthia isn’t with me. I little spark of worry ignites in me but I push it down, maybe she’s just in the bathroom or something, right?
I get up off the couch and look around the corner. The bathroom door is open and there are no lights on in the rest of the house as far as I can see. I quickly go up the stairs. It’s close to ten at night, maybe Cynthia went to bed. I get to the top and check each of the dark bedrooms, both of them are empty, no Cynthia.
I stomach sinks and I know she’s not here. I check the upstairs bathroom just in case, knowing she’s not going to be there. I walk back downstairs and pull my phone out of my pocket with shaky hands. I call Cynthia’s number and wait as it rings and rings. No answer. I disconnect the call and start to pace across the living room. Where could she be? What if she’s hurt? Why did she leave?
I run my hand roughly through my hair. Should I call the police? Should I drive around and look for her?
It doesn’t help any that I don’t know when she left. She could be anywhere by now. I know I need to make up my mind, fast. I sigh and pull out my phone again.
“911, what’s your emergency?”

***Cynthia’s P.O.V***
I wander down the empty street. Occasionally a car drives by, paying no attention to me. The wind dries the tears that line my cheeks. I turn at a corner and walk past several dark shops. The dark emptiness matches my mood.
I figure Andy probably has woken up by now and realized I'm gone, I left almost two hours ago. I wonder if he’ll come looking for me. Probably not. Why would he? Since the day he got me all I was was a broken string, emotional baggage. He deserves someone who isn’t a pain in the ass to him. Since day one he’s had to be like a 24-7 caretaker to me.
A street light flickers on as I walk beneath it, making me jump. I get past the stores and businesses and come to a bunch of old apartment buildings that line the street for another half mile or so. There all dark for the most part. I sigh and keep walking.
I have no idea where I'm going, I just know I can’t stay here. As I walk, I think about where I can stay for the night before I hitchhike it out of this town. I figure I could find a bridge or bus shelter to stay in until morning.
I walk for about five more minutes before passing a bar. There's a group of men standing outside it, laughing and talking loudly, drunkenly. I try to walk past quickly and not draw their attention but one of them whistles and calls to me.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out this late?”
He asks. I walk faster and ignore them, praying they leave me alone. I don’t get more than two steps past when one of them grabs my arm and pulls me back towards them. My heart starts to race as each one of them turns their attention directly to me.
“Its dangerous out here all alone, girly”
The same one from before said. I force myself to look at him. He’s young with scraggly blonde hair and a beard. I flick my eyes over all of the seven men. I stop at the last one. Our eyes lock and I almost gasp.
No No No No
It’s him. By the hateful look on his face I know he recognizes me. I feel like I'm going to be sick. My knees are shaking. I need to get away from him, far away. I try to pull my arm out of the man’s tight grip but fail.
“I think I’ll just have to make sure she gets home safe then, boys”
Quinten says, stepping towards me as the man lets go of my arm. I want to run as fast and far away as I can but it feels like my feet are glued to the ground.
Quinten grabs my arm and starts to pull me along beside him to a car. I try to push his hand off my arm but my hand is shaking far to violently to be effective.
“I swear to god if you try to run away you'll regret it”
He growls, unlocking the car and shoving me inside. I look around desperately as he gets into the car on the other side. There's nobody around other than the men he was with, no one to save me. Quinten starts the car and pulls away from the curb, driving fast down the road. I look over at him, scared beyond words.
“W-where are y-you taking me?”
I stutter, feeling fresh tears sting my eyes.
“Shut up!”
Quinten hollers at me, driving faster. He seems angry, very angry and I have no idea why. He got away with what he did, why would he be mad at me?
“Why ar-?”
I begin to ask before he reaches over and slaps me hard across the face, leaving me seeing stars.
“I said shut up”
He growls, slamming on the brakes and turning into an apartment building parking lot. This is bad. Very bad. But what if I could possibly get someone’s attention who lives here?
Quinten swerves the car into a parking space and glares over at me.
“Say a word or try to run, I’ll kill you and your precious little Andy”
He threatens. I look at him, fear running through my veins. How does he know about Andy?
“Wait for me to come around and open your door”
He snarls as he steps out of the car and comes around to my side. Quinten’s threat hangs over my head. The last thing I would ever do was put Andy in danger and if doing what Quinten demands stops that from happening, I’ll do it.
He opens the door and takes my elbow in his hand. He roughly pulls me out of the car, twisting my arm painfully and causing me to cry out. His eyes snap to my face and I see the pure hatred and fury.
Tears start pouring down my face as he drags me up a flight of stairs and down a dirty, dimly lit hallway. There's absolute no one else around that I can see and its completely silent except for our footsteps. We’re alone.
Quinten hurries to open the faded white door and pushes me inside. The second the door is shut behind him, he attacks me. Slamming me back against the wall, his begin fists fly.
“You thought you were so smart didn’t you-?”
He asks, punching me hard in the stomach and making me bend over in agony.
“Having that pretty little fucker come “teach me a lesson” “
He punches me again. I groan and slide down the wall to the floor, only to be jerked back up a second later and be punched in the face. I scream and hear a crack as warm blood starts gushing down my face, dripping to the yellow tile floor.
“Stop!”
I wail, trying to push his hands away. This angers him farther and he lands another blow to my gut, knocking the breath from me and making me crumple to the floor yet again. This time he doesn’t pull me back up though. He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls out a kitchen knife. My ragged breath catches in my throat as the overhead light glints against the metal.
“no..no…please…don’t do this!”
I beg as I try to scoot myself to the door, my body aching and trembling. Quinten walks towards me, a sick smile on his face. He kneels down in front of me, watching me as I sob. He holds the knife up and looks at it for a second, then turns his gaze back at me.
“No one hurts me and gets away with it”
He says quietly before thrusting the knife into stomach. I let out a hair-raising shriek as he stabs the knife into me again….and again…and again.
Blood is gushing rapidly from the wounds and my vision is going blurry.
The last thing I hear before everything goes black, is sirens.