Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Powerless
“In the car.” He commanded, shoving me into the back seat of a black El Camino.
Out of fear for my life itself, I obeyed him. He went around to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Wh-Where are you taking me?” I asked, regretting it the second the words left my mouth.
He pulled out of the empty parking lot and onto the main road with the ease and nonchalance of your average joe heading to work; as if he had forgotten that he just committed murder and left the blood-soaked body in the middle of a brick alley.
“You’ll find out.” He said casually.
“What are you going to do with me?”
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he floored it through a red light.
I’m going to fucking die. Hell, if he does that again, we’re both gonna fucking die.
My phone went off inside my pocket, and it’s obnoxiously loud ringtone startled the living shit out of me.
“Hand it over.” He instructed, reaching his hand out behind him for it.
I took it out of my pocket and took a quick peek before doing as I was told.
Frank, where the hell are you? I've been waiting you to open up for half an hour.
If only I could freeze time – for just 5 minutes, even. I could tell him to call the police. I could get out of this.
“I said hand it over.” He said impatiently.
I placed it in his hand and said goodbye to any hope of living to see my apartment again.
“Wh-Who are you?” I stuttered. “Why did you kill that guy?”
“Open up? What’s that mean?” He asked, using one hand to drive and the other to read the text.
I’m not sure which is more terrifying; the knife sitting poised and ready on the passenger seat beside him, or his driving skills (or lack thereof).
“Why the fuck would I tell you?”
He pulled over to the side of the road so suddenly and sharply I could’ve sworn the car was going to tip over.
Frank, just shut up… shut up.
“Because right now, your life rests in my hands. If I chose to, I could end your life so quickly you wouldn't even have time to pray for a second chance.” He snarled. “Nobody up there is gonna save you. So if you want to live to see tomorrow, I suggest you follow what I say very closely.”
“I… I own a comic shop. I was supposed to open at 10.” I said, a single tear sliding down my cheek shyly.
“Cute.” He snickered as his fingers typed my answer out.
I leaned forward in my seat ever-so-slightly, just enough so that I could see what he said.
Sick. Won’t be in for a week or so.
“So you’re gonna let me go in a week or so?” I asked.
“I’ll let you go if and when I damn well choose.” He grinned back at me.
I shifted around in my seat until I was comfortable; figuring I’d probably be in it for a while yet. I stared out the window and watched the other cars pass by us, and I wondered where each of them was going. Some were probably going to work; maybe some travelling.
Maybe some of them are just like me. Maybe they don’t have a clue where they’re going, but something else; whether it be someone else, or something inside their minds, is leading them away from everything they've ever known. Maybe some of them are headed towards disaster, while others are about to discover the place where they truly belong.
…
Hours passed as we drove in silence, and soon enough the sun had gone down and the moon was shining bright above us. Where we were; I hadn't a clue in the world. But it was somewhat comforting to know that wherever I was, whether it be familiar or somewhere I’ve never laid eyes on before, the moon would still be there above me. And it would say to me “There’s always something greater than this. Something that knows everything, even when you’re sure your story ends here. Just trust.”
He pulled over to the side of the road and switched the ignition off.
“We’re done for the day.” He informed me.
Before I had a chance to respond, he grabbed my hand and cuffed it to the metal bar that attached his seat to the headrest.
“If you thought that maybe you could try to escape while I’m asleep tonight, think again. I’d like to see you try to get out of that.”
I yanked at the cuff around my wrist.
Yeah, I’m not gonna be going anywhere.
“And if you don’t shut up while I sleep, I have no problem whatsoever with gagging you.” He said in an irritatingly sweet voice.
He leaned his head against the window and got as comfortable as you possibly could in an El Camino. I watched him for a few minutes, making sure that he wasn't going to unexpectedly shoot me or something.
Hell, I don’t know how his mind works.
I stared out the window, trying to get some idea of where we were. All I could see on the horizon was highway, highway, and more highway. But it wasn't a normal highway per se, it was a rural area; the pavement laced with patches of gravel and dry grass and large boulders. There wasn't a sign in sight, nor any trace of life other than myself, and the lovely little psycho killer in the driver’s seat in front of me.
So, what do I do now? Do I dare try to let my guard down and get some sleep?
Or… do I do something really fucking stupid and try to reach my phone?
When I was a kid and had to make decisions, I always used the pro vs. con system. I would mentally list all the positives and negatives of each decision, weigh them against each other, and therefore make a decision based on fact instead of one based on human emotion and biased opinion.
Pro of trying – I have a chance of getting out of this. Con – there is a chance he would wake up and who knows what he would do. Pro of NOT trying – I can secure my further existence for a while longer. Con – I’ll never know if I could’ve reached it or not.
So I potentially die, big fucking deal.
I waited another half hour or so until I was sure enough that he was asleep to partially justify my stupidity. He just lay there; his chest moving up and down, up and down, up and down…
God, so help me.
I shifted forwards in my seat again, as far as I could go before my knees hit the back of his seat and risked waking him. I could see the blue glimmer of my phone, almost completely out of my view. It lay beside the dagger and pressed into the crevasse in between the seat and backrest. With my right wrist cuffed, it was up to my left to grab it and figuratively beat it like a bat outta hell.
I turned around so that my knees were on the seat and I was facing the back of the car.
That’s right; use that stealth that you love to pretend you have.
I stretched my left arm into the front and skimmed my fingers across the backrest of the passenger seat. I didn’t dare lean back an inch farther, for fear of hitting his seat, so I had to rely on touch in order to locate my phone.
My heart nearly beat itself out of my chest as I felt around. I stretched my arm out as far as it could humanly be stretched, and as soon as I felt the familiar cold metal brush against my fingers, I grabbed it.
“No fucking way!”
No sooner did the words enter my ears than I found myself once again in the grasp of him. His rough grip wrapped around what used to be my one free wrist, and his fiery eyes stared dead into mine.
“Perhaps I was wrong when I called you smart.” He growled.
With his free hand, he reached over and grabbed his dagger.
“Don’t fuck with the bad guy.”
He pulled me forward and carved a line across my forearm. I screamed in agony as the pointed edge cut into my skin, leaving a crater behind it.
As soon as he was done, he threw my bleeding limb carelessly back into the back seat where the rest of me resided.
“That’s your warning.” He said calmly.
Tears ran down my face as I held the skin together with my cuffed hand; praying that the bleeding would stop and this wouldn't be the end of me.
“C-Cant… aren't you g-gonna do something?” I whimpered.
“You’ll survive. I could've cut you much worse and you’d still be here in the morning.”
I didn't sleep much that night. After all, it’s sort of hard to just turn your brain off when not only is one arm bleeding all over the car, but the other is slowly being cut into by a way-too-tight handcuff.
Out of fear for my life itself, I obeyed him. He went around to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Wh-Where are you taking me?” I asked, regretting it the second the words left my mouth.
He pulled out of the empty parking lot and onto the main road with the ease and nonchalance of your average joe heading to work; as if he had forgotten that he just committed murder and left the blood-soaked body in the middle of a brick alley.
“You’ll find out.” He said casually.
“What are you going to do with me?”
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he floored it through a red light.
I’m going to fucking die. Hell, if he does that again, we’re both gonna fucking die.
My phone went off inside my pocket, and it’s obnoxiously loud ringtone startled the living shit out of me.
“Hand it over.” He instructed, reaching his hand out behind him for it.
I took it out of my pocket and took a quick peek before doing as I was told.
Frank, where the hell are you? I've been waiting you to open up for half an hour.
If only I could freeze time – for just 5 minutes, even. I could tell him to call the police. I could get out of this.
“I said hand it over.” He said impatiently.
I placed it in his hand and said goodbye to any hope of living to see my apartment again.
“Wh-Who are you?” I stuttered. “Why did you kill that guy?”
“Open up? What’s that mean?” He asked, using one hand to drive and the other to read the text.
I’m not sure which is more terrifying; the knife sitting poised and ready on the passenger seat beside him, or his driving skills (or lack thereof).
“Why the fuck would I tell you?”
He pulled over to the side of the road so suddenly and sharply I could’ve sworn the car was going to tip over.
Frank, just shut up… shut up.
“Because right now, your life rests in my hands. If I chose to, I could end your life so quickly you wouldn't even have time to pray for a second chance.” He snarled. “Nobody up there is gonna save you. So if you want to live to see tomorrow, I suggest you follow what I say very closely.”
“I… I own a comic shop. I was supposed to open at 10.” I said, a single tear sliding down my cheek shyly.
“Cute.” He snickered as his fingers typed my answer out.
I leaned forward in my seat ever-so-slightly, just enough so that I could see what he said.
Sick. Won’t be in for a week or so.
“So you’re gonna let me go in a week or so?” I asked.
“I’ll let you go if and when I damn well choose.” He grinned back at me.
I shifted around in my seat until I was comfortable; figuring I’d probably be in it for a while yet. I stared out the window and watched the other cars pass by us, and I wondered where each of them was going. Some were probably going to work; maybe some travelling.
Maybe some of them are just like me. Maybe they don’t have a clue where they’re going, but something else; whether it be someone else, or something inside their minds, is leading them away from everything they've ever known. Maybe some of them are headed towards disaster, while others are about to discover the place where they truly belong.
…
Hours passed as we drove in silence, and soon enough the sun had gone down and the moon was shining bright above us. Where we were; I hadn't a clue in the world. But it was somewhat comforting to know that wherever I was, whether it be familiar or somewhere I’ve never laid eyes on before, the moon would still be there above me. And it would say to me “There’s always something greater than this. Something that knows everything, even when you’re sure your story ends here. Just trust.”
He pulled over to the side of the road and switched the ignition off.
“We’re done for the day.” He informed me.
Before I had a chance to respond, he grabbed my hand and cuffed it to the metal bar that attached his seat to the headrest.
“If you thought that maybe you could try to escape while I’m asleep tonight, think again. I’d like to see you try to get out of that.”
I yanked at the cuff around my wrist.
Yeah, I’m not gonna be going anywhere.
“And if you don’t shut up while I sleep, I have no problem whatsoever with gagging you.” He said in an irritatingly sweet voice.
He leaned his head against the window and got as comfortable as you possibly could in an El Camino. I watched him for a few minutes, making sure that he wasn't going to unexpectedly shoot me or something.
Hell, I don’t know how his mind works.
I stared out the window, trying to get some idea of where we were. All I could see on the horizon was highway, highway, and more highway. But it wasn't a normal highway per se, it was a rural area; the pavement laced with patches of gravel and dry grass and large boulders. There wasn't a sign in sight, nor any trace of life other than myself, and the lovely little psycho killer in the driver’s seat in front of me.
So, what do I do now? Do I dare try to let my guard down and get some sleep?
Or… do I do something really fucking stupid and try to reach my phone?
When I was a kid and had to make decisions, I always used the pro vs. con system. I would mentally list all the positives and negatives of each decision, weigh them against each other, and therefore make a decision based on fact instead of one based on human emotion and biased opinion.
Pro of trying – I have a chance of getting out of this. Con – there is a chance he would wake up and who knows what he would do. Pro of NOT trying – I can secure my further existence for a while longer. Con – I’ll never know if I could’ve reached it or not.
So I potentially die, big fucking deal.
I waited another half hour or so until I was sure enough that he was asleep to partially justify my stupidity. He just lay there; his chest moving up and down, up and down, up and down…
God, so help me.
I shifted forwards in my seat again, as far as I could go before my knees hit the back of his seat and risked waking him. I could see the blue glimmer of my phone, almost completely out of my view. It lay beside the dagger and pressed into the crevasse in between the seat and backrest. With my right wrist cuffed, it was up to my left to grab it and figuratively beat it like a bat outta hell.
I turned around so that my knees were on the seat and I was facing the back of the car.
That’s right; use that stealth that you love to pretend you have.
I stretched my left arm into the front and skimmed my fingers across the backrest of the passenger seat. I didn’t dare lean back an inch farther, for fear of hitting his seat, so I had to rely on touch in order to locate my phone.
My heart nearly beat itself out of my chest as I felt around. I stretched my arm out as far as it could humanly be stretched, and as soon as I felt the familiar cold metal brush against my fingers, I grabbed it.
“No fucking way!”
No sooner did the words enter my ears than I found myself once again in the grasp of him. His rough grip wrapped around what used to be my one free wrist, and his fiery eyes stared dead into mine.
“Perhaps I was wrong when I called you smart.” He growled.
With his free hand, he reached over and grabbed his dagger.
“Don’t fuck with the bad guy.”
He pulled me forward and carved a line across my forearm. I screamed in agony as the pointed edge cut into my skin, leaving a crater behind it.
As soon as he was done, he threw my bleeding limb carelessly back into the back seat where the rest of me resided.
“That’s your warning.” He said calmly.
Tears ran down my face as I held the skin together with my cuffed hand; praying that the bleeding would stop and this wouldn't be the end of me.
“C-Cant… aren't you g-gonna do something?” I whimpered.
“You’ll survive. I could've cut you much worse and you’d still be here in the morning.”
I didn't sleep much that night. After all, it’s sort of hard to just turn your brain off when not only is one arm bleeding all over the car, but the other is slowly being cut into by a way-too-tight handcuff.
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