Close Ch. 01

Hey guys! Talk about blast from the past! I'm so sorry for the long hiatus. I got overwhelmed with school, which caused me to have a sort of pre-quarter life crisis, then I dropped out. Started working, re-enrolled, got swamped again, and then *plot twist* became a flight attendant! HAH! Anyway, I'm officially giving up on Melody and Kaiden (at least for now). I got really discouraged when I kept getting comments saying it was similar to LCA. Sorry to all the people who wanted to see it finished. Any who, i'm here with something completely new! I promise I will try to finish this one and not get too distracted. Chapter two is already almost done. I don't have an editor, so please be nice. There will be some trigger warnings posted. Also, the sex will be a slow build, i'm all about character development, but i'll try not to leave ya'll hanging. Love you all xx p.s I'll still be making kick ass musical references.

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Chapter 1

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Emma didn't know how long she'd been walking for, it felt like eternity. Her normal latte colored skin was dry and scaly, like a Komodo dragon. Her clothes were torn and tattered from days of sleeping in the bushes. Her bare-feet were rough, and calloused. She looked exactly how you'd expect someone to look like, on the outside, who was stuck wandering a desert wasteland, but on the inside, she felt like a motherfucking survivor. She didn't know how she'd managed to wedge herself out of the tiny window of the basement, but her mother had taught her not to look a gift horse in the mouth. All she knew was once she was out, she ran and didn't look back. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out there, or really where she was, but she knew she wouldn't turn around. She has survived on eating cactus and drinking from anything that remotely resembled water.

When she had first escaped, she saw a bunch of houses, but didn't stop out of fear of being sent back. After all, this wasn't her first escape. The very first time she had tried, she remembered being sent right back almost immediately. Her heart had sunk as she found herself shackled in the basement once again. This time, she ran until she found herself alone and despite the fact that she was scared and teetering dangerously on the tightrope of life and death, she'd rather die alone of hunger, thirst, heat stroke or of an unexpected cause of nature, than under his lecherous gaze or touch.

Emma ambled on. Emma had kept her sanity by humming, humming anything and everything. Her mother growing up had flooded their house with music, which had become a great deal of comfort in her adult life. Today, however, the humming wasn't working. Emma collapsed to the floor and broke out in dry sobs, due to the lack of liquid in her body. She sat on the blazing hot terrain and looked up to the sky, but quickly averted her gaze from the blazing hot sun.

"Please don't let me die out here, please." She chanted to no one in particular, but to the only person who matter. She sat and sobbed for a couple moments before she realized that nothing was happening. She kicked the floor and in the process, injured her leg, reigniting the pain and limp that she had procured weeks prior. She cursed the world, but decided that feeing sorry for herself wouldn't get her anywhere. So Emma did the only thing she knew how, she ambled on.

It was about an hour and a half later that Emma's luck would change for the better. She was in the middle of humming "Midnight Train to Georgia," by Gladys Knight and the Pips, when she heard a sound. It was an unmistakable sound. It was a sound that she had almost forgotten, but could never forget. Emma heard the sounds of tires on a road. She knew it was.

With a reignited fire under her ass, she ran, albeit with a limp, allowing only her senses to direct her. Low and behold, she found the road. She couldn't see any cars in the nearby vicinity, but finding the road was the equivalent of Michelangelo painting The Sistine Chapel. Finding the road was a better feeling than winning The Olympics, winning the lottery, or a screaming orgasm. Better yet, finding the road was like orgasming while accepting all the gold medals in The Olympics, while simultaneously finding out that you won The Powerball.

Emma walked down the road like Dorothy following the yellow brick road. Her feet where burning on the asphalt, and she was pretty sure she stepped on a piece of glass but she couldn't careless in that moment. With a fresh set of determination, Emma followed the road until she found, at first what she thought was a mirage, but soon, was completely overjoyed to find out was totally real. A gas station.

She practically ran to the door, exasperated and out of breathe, but resolved nevertheless to escape this hellhole and finally rid herself of this nightmare. When she reached the door, she took a deep breathe and yanked at the handle. Only to be greeted with resistance. She panicked but settled when she saw movement inside. She made brief eye contact with a man. This was the first person she had encountered in days and he looked — definitely not friendly, but she'd come too far to give up.

"Excuse me," she hollered repeatedly as she tapped on the window.

The man gruffly, yanked the door open, but not the whole way. He gave her a quick once over. She was sure she was a sight for sore eyes. She had been in the middle of no where for days, without bathing, brushing her hair or teeth. She hasn't eaten a proper meal in god knows how long, and had been feeding on scraps for days. He just continued to stare at her with disdain in his face. She was starting to feel like maybe she should keep walking. 'No, fuck that!' she thought.

"May I come in, please?" She wasn't above begging at this point, but thankfully he walked over to the register and allowed her to pass inside. She felt like she had died and gone to Disneyland. She had immediately been blessed by the air conditioning. She let the cool air dance on her skin, enjoying the feeling of the goosebumps rise up on her skin. She looked around and was a literal kid in a candy store. She looked over at the clerk who was polishing the outside of a shotgun menacingly, almost as if to prove a point. She looked above him, and saw a hand written sign that read "LAW BRAKERS WILL BE SHOT.' She had no doubt in her mind that the guy behind the counter had most definitely written the sign, and although english and grammar may not have been his strong suit, she didn't doubt that he would follow through on his threat. She walked over to him and swallowed.

"W-W-Would you mind terribly, i-i-if I used your phone?" He didn't acknowledge her. He continued to stare, shotgun in hand.

"I-I-I'm a missing persons. I was t-t-taken from my home in C-C-Colorado. I don't even kn-" was all she could get out before he interrupted her in a loud and menacing voice.

"BUY SOMETHING OR GET THE FUCK OUT!"

She walked away from the counter and took a look around the store. For being in the middle of nowhere, it was a pretty decent gas station, although the store wasn't terribly big. It had an ATM, one unisex bathroom, three coolers filled with everything, from non alcoholic drinks, to beers, four locos, and wine. The aisles were the true gems, they were snacks galore. Her stomach rumbled for the first time in a long time. She had just used to being hungry, up until this point faced with Cheetos, Doritos, Lays, Ruffles, you name it.

She saw a slushy machine and proceeded over. She grabbed the largest cup, and mixed cherry with coke. She put a straw in and sucked some down. It felt like liquid gold sliding down her throat. She walked over to the aisles and grabbed a honey bun and a pack of cheddar pretzel Combos. Towards the back of the store, she grabbed a pickle jar. She started to walk over the counter, and opened the bag of Combos. She took one final large sip, said a silent prayer, and counted to five. When she was face to face with the clerk, he started ringing her up, and she did the unexpected. Instead of placing her items on the counter, she let them all drop to the floor, making a giant mess, and made a mad dash for the bathroom which was tucked in the corner of the room. She made it to the door right as three bullet went whirring past her ear. She shut the door, locked it, and pushed the trash can in front of the door and sat in the corner with her head between her knees.

"GET OUT OF THERE YOU FUCKING BITCH OR I'LL KILL YOU," the clerked yelled.

"I need you to call the police, i'm in danger. I was taken from my home. Call the Colorado police, i'm sure they're looking for me! Please i'm begging you!"

"THE POLICE WILL BE HERE TO DRAG YOUR FUCKING BODY OUT, BIT BY BIT ONCE I FUCKING SKIN YOU ALIVE, IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE."

She didn't move. She didn't breathe. She kept her head between her knees and silently hummed "Build Me Up Buttercup," by The Foundations. Her father used to sing her that song growing up. She hoped right now, he was watching over her.

She sat on the dirty dingy floor quietly for what seemed to be actually forever. She didn't know which was worse: the dry never ending wasteland or this air-conditioned shoddy pisshole. She wondered when he was going to give up and just call the police. He had stopped firing rounds into the door and trying to get it open. He had also stopped yelling taunts and death threats. They were at a stalemate, she had nothing but time. She has resigned herself to spend the night in the bathroom until she heard the jingle of the gas station door open. She pressed her ear to the door.

"What the fuck did you do Jethro? Its looks like a goddamn Western movie in here." Inquired a clearly agitated voice.

"Some fucking whore locked herself in the bathroom and refuses to get out."

"Well, does she have a gun?"

"No,"

"Well, why the hell would you let it rain bullets in here?"

Silence, followed by a loud, annoyed sigh.

"Well, does she want free stuff?"

"I don't think so." Another heavy sigh.

"Well, what do you think she wants Jethro?"

Emma heard a third sigh, followed by footstep walking over. She moved the trashcan and hid behind it, although it clearly did little to hide body from the line of sight. She heard the sounds of keys jiggling, and she ducked, expecting to be welcomed with the barrel of a shot gun or worse, the piece of shit who put her in this position in the first place. Instead, she was greeted by a short stout greying man. His eyes studied her and his face scrunched.

"Can I help you with something miss...?"

"I don't want any trouble, I just need to go to the police. I just want to go home." She broke down into tears. The man felt pity, she didn't look like a hardened criminal. She was crouched in the corner, hiding behind a garbage can, staring up at him with fear and he was barely 5'8.

"Okay. I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but i'm going to shut the door and call the police. I'll knock when they're here. So help me god, if you're up to anything, i'll let Jethro put a bullet between your eyes." He backed away from the door slowly and locked it.

She shut her eyes and allowed her back to slide down the door. It was finally all over.

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Chapter one is done! Please tell me what you think in the comments below! Muah