You are currently reading from the Prompt #2 Series.
I couldn’t tell you if I screamed or tried to fight them off. I’m not sure if I was raped or how many times they tossed me around the room before I woke up on the black leather couch Devin loved so much with dried blood on my lips.
“You’re a pretty one.” Steve laughed, taking one of my IKEA dining room chairs and popping a squat in front of me. “Definitely too pretty for this guy.” he said, taking a picture of Devin and I at his parents’ summer house from the end table. “What’s your name?”
“Lauren.” I said, clearing my throat.
“Lauren,” he sighed, “that’s my mother’s name.”
“Really?” I asked. And to my surprise, I was genuinely curious about whether or not his mother’s name was Lauren – as though we were about to have some sort of conversation regarding how common the name is and how weird it is that some people spell it differently.
“No.” he smirked, “No, it’s not.”
As I looked to my left, I noticed that one of Steve’s crew was standing behind what was left of our door, looking at another man across the room whose job it was to let the others know when Devin was approaching. The other two were making themselves at home in my kitchen as Steve rose from his chair and paced about my living room.
“Lauren,” he said, taking a deep breath, “do you know what your boyfriend does for a living?”
I thought carefully – I couldn’t tell if he knew the answer or not. “He doesn’t work right now – he goes to school and his parents paid for this apartment.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” I whimpered, unable to control the tears any longer.
“And where is your boyfriend now?”
“He’s getting taco shells.” I cried.
“I’m going to ask you one more time.” Steve whispered.
“I told you he’s getting taco shells!”
I heard the safety flip off the gun ans felt its mouth against my left temple as I screamed, “I swear, I swear it!”
“NO ONE MAKES TACOS ON A FUCKING WEDNESDAY LAUREN!! WHERE IS HE?!”