The 911 Hokey Pokey

"I'm going to beat his face in!" As I stomped towards the truck to deck the driver, an iron grip closed on my small arm. The cop seized my other arm and wrestled me back to the driver door, opening it with effort for me.

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Selling Doves (Part 1): Rescue

Blood splatter coated all but one wall in spite of having been clearly scrubbed with strong chemicals. A double mattress was crammed in the corner, completely bare save for more stains and a crusty duvet cover. My eyes traveled to the rails on the head of the bed, settling on the restraints that dangled from each corner. 

Surrender

I reread the text over and over, but the words were clear on the screen. Barking a short laugh I dropped my phone slightly away from myself. This was beginning to scare me a little. What was I dealing with? Mental illness?

The First Attempt

Over the course of the next week, I began to feel that the pain, fear and uncertainty in my life was to no end. If I was to live and die in my pitiful, pain-ridden life, I felt it wasn't worth stretching out the agony. A plan began to form in my mind.

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