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The Beginning of Hope: The Highly Anticipated, Mind-Blowing Sequel to the Killing of Faith (The Killing of Faith Series Book 2)

Page 7

by William Holms


  Suddenly I feel the tequila, and whatever else I just took, rise up in my stomach. I’ve had nothing to eat all day except a banana I had for breakfast. The tequila, the grasshopper, and whatever else was left in my stomach comes pouring out of my mouth. I’ve had my fair share of tequila shots, but I’ve never thrown up from drinking so little.

  I’m so embarrassed, but it doesn’t seem to bother the crowd in the least. Everyone goes wild laughing, clapping, and taking pictures. Suddenly the music is cranked up to full volume. “We are family,” blasts out of the speakers. All around me people are dancing in the street like it’s one big nightclub. Girls are singing and dancing on top of cars.

  “This is so embarrassing,” I shout above the music.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” Paul says. “You’re in Bangkok. It’s all good.”

  “Cool,” I say.

  “Are you alone?” he asks.

  I don’t want him to know I’m alone so I tell him, “I’m here with my mom.” At least it’s kinda true.

  “You want to party with me and my friends?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  He takes my hand and leads me down the street. “Come on,” he says. We walk a block away to an outside bar. There’s a group of two other guys and a beautiful girl sitting at a table full of food and alcohol. They’re all dressed up in slacks and nice shirts. The woman looks in her mid-twenties. She has long brown hair, and she’s wearing a beautiful dress with a flower just above her ear.

  “This is Hope,” he announces to everyone. “She’s from California.”

  “Hope from California,” they all say together.

  Paul grabs a chair and pulls it up to the table. “What are you drinking?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I shrug.

  The girl sitting across from me has a red, orange, and yellow drink in her hand with an orange slice and a small red umbrella sticking out the top. “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Stay right here,” he yells over the music.

  He goes up to the bar and comes back with the same drink. I don’t know what it is, but it’s the best drink I’ve ever had. The next thing I know, I’m drinking and laughing with everyone like I’m part of the group.

  Another beautiful woman sits down beside me. She hands a joint to the guy on my right. The joint makes it around the table and comes back to the girl next to me. She takes a puff and offers it to me. I immediately pass the joint on to Paul. He takes a puff and then puts it to my lips. Geez, the peer pressure in this place! I take a puff, inhale, and hold it until I start coughing uncontrollably. It’s stronger than anything I’ve ever tried before.

  When my drink is almost gone, Paul hands me another. It’s like there’s some giant party happening everywhere, and we’re right in the middle of it all. Before I can finish one drink I’m handed another. Then a tray of shots arrives at the table, and we all take one. This repeats several times over the next two hours. I should have eaten more, but now my head––or the whole bar––is spinning. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  Paul leans over to the guy beside him and says, “Now….let’s get her out of here.”

  The music and the people dancing and yelling is so loud, I can’t make out what he just said. “What?” I yell, above the music. I realize I can’t talk straight. “What hell,” I scream. “What the hell is happening?”

  Without saying a word, everyone gets up at the same time and yells, “Come on let’s go party!”

  They take my arm to help me up, but I’m way too drunk. I can’t even stand much less walk. Everything is going round and round and my legs go limp. All the lights have a giant halo. They’ve all morph together like one light. I fall over in my chair, but someone catches me before I fall to the floor.

  I want to go back to my hostel and lay down. I do my best to stand, but I fall against the table and almost knock it over. I hear the loud “CRASH” of breaking glass as all the food, glasses, and beer bottles fall to the floor. As much as I try to gain my balance I’m helpless.

  Paul takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. I try to walk, but my legs won’t cooperate. I try again, but it’s useless. Paul puts my left arm around his neck. The other guy I’ve been drinking with takes my right arm and puts it around his neck. We all head down the street together.

  The music is screaming in my ears as we walk past one club after another. I can’t hold my head up. My legs are like jello. My feet are actually dragging more than walking.

  I can hear people laughing, and see them pointing, as we walk past. So many people––so many people everywhere, but no one does anything to make sure I’m okay.

  “She’s wasted,” some guy laughs and points right at me.

  Someone else yells, “Welcome to Thailand.”

  “We got her,” Paul says. “We’ll get her back to her hotel.”

  Suddenly I throw up all over myself. My shirt, my shorts, and my legs are covered with all the shots and pretty red drinks I’ve been drinking all night. It causes everyone to laugh and point more.

  “Now!” Paul shouts. “We gotta get her out of here now.”

  The guys holding me, pick up the pace and we head to the end of the street. We turn right down a small alley where a large, black limousine is waiting. There’s a tall Asian man in a black suit waiting outside. As we get closer, I hear a “click” as he opens the back door to let me in. At this point, I’m completely helpless.

  I don’t want to go for a ride. I try to pull away, but the same feeling that paralyzed my legs earlier has now swept over my entire body. I can’t move, lift up, or event talk. I realize for the first time what’s happened, and I’m terrified. I’ve been drugged! My mind says get away, but I’m way too far gone.

  “No,” I mumble. “Please don’t do this.”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Paul says taking my arm from around his neck. He starts pushing me inside the limo. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “We’re going to a big party,” the girl joins in.

  “Party!” the other guy shouts taking my arm from around his neck.

  They move me into the back seat of the limo. I grab the door and try to hold on with all my strength. I know this is my last chance to get away. If they get me in this car I’ll have no way to escape. Paul grabs my wrist and yells, “Don’t fight me. Let go of the door.” This causes me to hold tighter, but it does me no good. Paul breaks my grip on the door and shoves me inside. I fall off the seat down to the floor.

  “Please…please don't do this,” I try to say, but I can barely move my mouth. “My dad will pay you.”

  Suddenly I see someone push Paul away from me. Paul falls back against the door. I have no idea what’s going on. “What the fuck are you doing?” Paul screams trying to regain his balance.

  I feel someone grab my arm, so I pull away as hard as I can. I have no strength to resist. Paul turns around and yells, “Let her go, she’s with us.”

  The guy who’s trying to take my arm lets go. He yanks Paul back and I hear a long rip as Paul’s silk shirt tears in half. “Get the fuck away from her,” he yells and throws Paul to the ground. He kicks Paul right in the stomach with all his might. Paul curls into a ball in an effort to block another kick to his stomach.

  The other guy who was carrying me to the limousine is getting beat up by two other guys. “She don’t want to go with you,” someone yells. The driver puts up his hands and says, “Hey, I’m just a driver.”

  I look up and see for the first time, that the guy who’s pulling me up is the same guy who just ate the scorpion right before I did. These are the guys who were cheering me on. With one jerk, he pulls me out of the limousine and takes me in his arms. He picks me off of my feet like you’d see in a movie and carries me away. At that point, I completely pass out.

  I wake up the next morning with a terrible headache. I feel like I need to vomit. I lay my head back down and close my eyes again. I have to sleep. I just want to sleep.


  It suddenly dawns on me that I’m not under my thin, blue blanket. I open my eyes and see I’m in a large, beautiful bed with soft sheets. I’m lying under a thick, luxurious, white comforter. I sit up and look around. This is a magnificent hotel with a magnificent view.

  I look under the covers afraid I might be naked. I’m still dressed in the same shorts, shirt, bra, and panties I had on yesterday. My sandals and my purse are sitting neatly on the chair next to the bed. There’s a bottle of water sitting on the nightstand.

  I have no idea where I am or how I got here. I remember nothing from last night. I start breathing heavily as I try to put it all together. This can’t be happening…this can’t be happening. I have to get the hell out of here.

  I grab my stuff off the chair and head for the door. A strange guy comes in with a glass of orange juice. He’s tall and strong––maybe in his early to mid-twenties. He has nicely combed hair, khaki shorts, and a collared shirt. “Good morning,” he says handing me the glass of orange juice. “You feeling okay?”

  “Where am I?” I ask gathering my things from the chair.

  “My name is Blake,” he says.

  “Where the fuck am I?” I demand to know. “And what are you doing with me?”

  “Easy,” he says trying to calm me down. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m on your side.”

  I get up and try to push by him. “Move,” I shout.

  “Hey, hey, hey….don’t worry. You were pretty messed up last night. We brought you to our hotel. You’re safe now.”

  I look at the clock beside the bed. It reads 5:46 PM. I slept through the whole day. I look out the window and recognize the street below. At least I’m still in Bangkok. I sit back on the bed, and Blake puts a cold washcloth on my forehead. “Do you remember anything about last night?” he asks.

  I’m not sure what to believe or who to trust. I still feel pretty drowsy, but some of the things from last night start coming back to me. “I was in Bangkok. I remember eating a grasshopper. You were there,” I say. “I was drinking with some friends I just met. I don’t know. I can’t remember much else.”

  “Well, I don’t think those guys were your friends. Why don’t you clean up, and we’ll grab some breakfast. You’ll find everything you need in the bathroom.”

  When he starts to walk out, a girl who looks about twenty-two or twenty-three comes into the room and asks, “How’s she doing? Feeling any better?”

  “She’s gonna be alright,” Blake says.

  This hotel is nothing like my hostel – it’s like nowhere I’ve ever stayed before. The bed is super large, and the bathroom is the definition of luxury. It has everything a person would want or need. “It’s okay,” the girl says. “We’re here on vacation. We just want to help you.”

  I take a quick, hot shower that helps clear my head and relieve my headache. I change back into my clothes from last night and towel dry my hair. I walk out of the bedroom into a giant, luxury suite. Blake and three other guys are sitting on the couch and chairs. One of the guys is wearing a blue and yellow “UCLA” t-shirt. Two of the guys are sitting next to girls like they’re together. It looks like everyone is waiting on me. This is all so weird. Everyone stands, as we all introduce ourselves

  “Want to get something to eat?” Blake asks.

  We enter a beautiful, brass elevator with wood ceilings and mirrors on the walls. It’s almost as nice as the hotel room. It takes us down a few floor to a magnificent restaurant. There’s a buffet that has everything imaginable. “All I want is some coffee,” I say, but Blake insists I get something to eat.

  “It’s a buffet,” he explains. “You can get whatever you want.”

  We fill our plates, and sit at an open table. I’m actually starved. From what I remember I had nothing to eat last night other than the insect.

  Blake gives me a chance to drink some coffee before he asks, “So, you don't remember last night?”

  “Not really,” I admit.

  They tell me everything that happened. “We’ve been in Thailand for six days now. We were on the beach in Phuket, and came to Bangkok a few days ago. We saw you on the street about to eat your grasshopper. Everyone saw you.”

  “Oh God,” I exclaim putting my head in my hands in embarrassment. “I definitely remember that part.”

  “It’s always an event when someone tries it for the first time. The more you resist the bigger the event gets. Your event got pretty big. The guy you were with––he’s a regular. They’re always sitting outside that same club with the same group drinking and talking to women. They just wait for some girl or girls to come by.”

  “I wasn’t with him… or them. I was just walking by. He came up, trying to get me to eat one of the grasshoppers.”

  Everyone at the table looks at each other. “At first we weren’t sure what was going on. We had just sat down at the restaurant across the street to eat dinner. We thought you might be in their group or something, but we weren’t sure. Mark thought you were really cute, so we were looking–– “

  “I thought she was cute?” Mark from across the table says elbowing Blake in his side.

  “Okay, we both thought you were really cute,” Blake continues. “Anyway, we kept watching you. First, they brought you drinks and then shots. The two guys would go to the bar and order drinks. They were looking your way and talking about something. The main guy started making calls on his cell. I don't know, it didn't look right. There was something sketchy about them.”

  This is new news to me. I remember nothing. I’m listening like it’s someone else they’re talking about. “You were pretty messed up, but they kept bringing you more shots. When they got up to leave you were shaking your head. You fell over the table, and everything came crashing down.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I say.

  “You’re not the first person to get wasted here, but none of it looked right. Next thing they were practically carrying you down the street. We got up and followed behind to see what was going to happen. They brought you to a limo – ”

  “Oh my God,” I mutter, sitting back in my chair.

  “They were trying to get you in. By this time you were completely gone. You grabbed the door, but they pulled your arm away. We rushed them. They started screaming how you were with them, and they acted like they were taking care of you. You could barely talk, but you didn’t look right. Well, there were four of us and three of them––and they’re not real big guys. You couldn’t even stand…or walk. We grabbed you and brought you back to our hotel.”

  This is all so terrifying. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Blake says.

  “You guys saved me. No really….people say someone saved them, but this is for real. God only knows what they would have done to me if you hadn’t come along.”

  Mark jumps in, “I have an idea. They take young––”

  “Shh,” Blake hisses for Mark to stop, and says, “We’re just glad you’re safe.”

  “See something, do something,” Mark adds with a toast of his orange juice glass.

  I shake my head and say, “I feel so stupid. I’ve heard about this–everyone’s heard about this stuff happening. I knew better than to drink with strangers, especially in Thailand, but he seemed so nice. I fell right into it. You saved my life. You guys saved my life.”

  They tell me more about themselves. Three of the guys are seniors at UCLA. The other guy is a junior. They introduce their girlfriends and one of the girls asks, “What are you doing in Thailand?”

  I tell them the whole story––all the way back to my mom leaving us, my stay in rehab, and going on the internet and learning that my mom was arrested in Thailand with drugs. I tell them about the prison with the wires, and the guards with guns.

  They listen as amazed as I was hearing them tell me what happened last night. “Holy shit,” the girl shouts when I tell her about visiting the prison.

  “This is unbelievable,” the firs
t girl adds. “You could write a book about this.”

  “I was supposed to go back to the prison today, but now it’s too late. I’ll have to go tomorrow.”

  “Where are you staying?” Blake asks.

  “I’m at a hostel a couple of blocks away.”

  “A hostel by yourself?” the girl asks.

  “It was only five dollars a night,” I explain.

  “How old are you?” Blake asks.

  “Eighteen…almost nineteen,” I answer.

  Everyone looks at each other with the same reaction I always get. “Eighteen? We thought you were maybe fifteen. You have no business being alone in Thailand. After we finish here we’ll go to the hostel and get your stuff. You can stay with us.”

  “I can’t,” I say. “You’ve done too much for me already.”

  “You can’t?” Blake repeats. “You have to! We have the whole penthouse suite. We want to hear how your journey ends. You at least owe us that much.”

  “When you put it that way,” I say.

  Blake goes with me back to the hostel. He grabs my suitcase and towel from my locker. He sets me up in one of the rooms at his hotel. This is first class all the way. No more worries about making my bed, drunks in the middle of the night, loud outside parties, and waking up all night to the banging front door. I pretty much don’t have to worry about anything.

  Everywhere we go, everything we do, and every time we eat or drink, they insist on paying. Blake is particularly nice. I don’t know him that well, but things seem to click. He’s smart and has a great sense of humor.

  We’re all just hanging out and looking around the city. We go to this market that is so gigantic. It seems to go on forever. There are thousands of little shops full of crafts, handmade Thai trinkets, and gifts. There are colorful clothes, art and paintings, decorations, all kinds of pets, and so many plants and flowers.

  It’s such a relief to be with friends – safe. By the time we get back, it’s late so I call Grace and update her on everything – well not everything.

  – CHAPTER 9 –

 

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