I stood shocked behind the counter in the kitchen. Eyes-wide, mouth left hanging open as I stared at the scene that was in front of me. There sat Ron, who was grabbing his knee, in tremendous pain, rocking back and forth as he tried not to whimper. Behind him, sat the reason of his misery. A broken metal chair; as Ron had gone to sit down, the left-most chair leg decided to give, bend inwards and break, throwing Ron face and knee forward into the ground. He was slow to react, being only able to protect his face as his arms extended outward, but not his already injured knee, which took the brunt of it. I slowly leaned forward, my forehead making contact and resting on my forearm. The corners of my mouth began to twitch. I took a deep breath; as I exhaled, it came out shaky.

That went better than I thought it would.

After Ron's betrayal, he and I had sat glaring at each other. I stood up first; I had better things to do, than look at this traitor. I moved to clean up the counter that Trevor had been leaning on and touching. He was such a disgusting individual, everything he touched, I felt needed to be sanitized. I walked towards the cabinet under the sink; opening it, and grabbing the sanitizing spray. As I was still bent over, spray bottle in hand, I heard something fall and following sounds of clinking and rustling. I quickly stood up straight and turned around on my heels. I looked down; the trash-can had fallen onto its side, empty bottles, cans and some paper trash had fallen out all over the floor of the trailer. I slowly raised my head and looked at Ron. Ron was staring at me. Both of our brows furrowed, we were back to glaring at each other. Rude.

I placed the spray bottle on the counter, and moved to clean up the trash. Now I had to wash the floor again. As I started cleaning up the mess, it was very evident that Ron kicked it over, and from the glare, he clearly wanted me to know that. The trash can and trash were back in their normal places. I then turned back to my spray bottle, that counter was begging to be cleaned. I had it in my hands, when I heard something fall again. I turned around quickly, my eyes searching for the trash can. I blinked. Where was the trashcan? I put the spray bottle down again and moved to look around the counter. As I did, the trashcan was on its side again, its contents on the floor. I glanced at Ron, this time, he didn't make eye-contact instead kept his focus on the ground in front of him.

I tried not to sigh loudly as I went in to clean the trash. As I set it back up, contents safely inside, I quickly looked around the room. My head quickly turned towards the end of the kitchen area, towards the front door. Still holding on to the trashcan, I picked it up and slowly moved to the front door. I couldn't put it directly right next to it, as the counter extended to the door, but I could put it as close as I could to it. I placed the trashcan near the end of the counter. I turned towards Ron, we made eye contact; if he kicks this thing over again, I was going to put him through a world of hurt. I grabbed my spray bottle, and move towards the other counter that was in front of the couch, never breaking eye contact with Ron. I was going to make sure he didn't get up and if he did, well, I had a spray bottle. As I finished cleaning the counter, Trevor busted through the door,

"Ron! I'm here now, so go home!" Trevor's words were a bit slurred, and he looked a bit, wobbly. He had a beer bottle in hand, and I could smell him from where I stood, he was clearly intoxicated. Ron stood up to leave, making his way to the front door, as Trevor was making his way to his bedroom. As Trevor had his back turn, Ron opened the front door, he quickly raised his left leg and kicked over the trashcan again. Its contents crashing onto the floor as he slammed the door behind him. That mother-

The next morning, Trevor and Ron were having a conversation at the table. I was busy moving the breakfast dishes, when I turned towards them. They were criminals, making plans for crime and other illegal actions, killing, robbing, and who else knows what. They were crazy, and yet here I was, stuck with them. I watched as Trevor grabbed his coffee mug, and extend his arm outward- he was asking for a refill. I grabbed the coffee pot, and quickly moved towards him. As I poured the coffee, careful as to not spill, Ron mimicked Trevor's movements; grabbed his coffee cup and raised it towards me. I finished pouring Trevor's coffee, and moved to fill Ron's. I tipped the coffee pot over slowly and then quickly jerked it back to its original position. As I did so, the smallest of splashes of coffee came out, going into Ron's cup. I turned and walked away. When I turned to return back to my dishes, I glanced at Ron who had attempted to take a sip from his coffee, only to be slowly disappointed and contort his face into a disgusted and sad look at the realization that there was little to no coffee within his mug.

I smiled to myself as I started to wash dishes. I could hear Trevor scold Ron for not paying attention, probably thinking a little too much about his coffee. I started humming quietly to myself; playing innocent just in case Ron would try to throw me under the bus for that too. That's what you get.

The next day, Trevor had requested a large meal. I guess when he left the other day, he had been successful in something and wanted to celebrate. I knew it was to applaud his own efforts, because he certainly wasn't going to tell Wade he did a "good job." In the end, it turned out to be a mess. He had gotten drunk, threw dishes, mumbled and yelled strings of words that were so slurred I had no idea what he was saying. He kept ordering me around, I ended up making so much food because he kept telling me to make more and more; I actually ran out of plates. Late into the evening, he decided he was going to celebrate some more, so he left out to the bar.

I stood in the kitchen and looked around- the entire place was covered in dirty dishes, and trash. Better clean this up before he gets back. I thought to myself. I looked at the sink, it was full of dirty pots and pans- I'll start there.

It was 11:30 p.m when I started and by the time I had finished the amass of dishes and cleaned up the broken glass and beer bottles, it was into the next day; 3:30 a.m. I felt tired, I looked towards the bathroom. Trevor had give me a large bag of old clothes from god knows where; I washed them and some fit and others obviously didn't, but at least I could kind of change into new clothes. I turned my head towards Ron. Since Trevor had left, Ron had been sitting at the front door, making sure he could watch me since the pile of dishes was blocking his original view from the table. I went inside the bathroom to change, gently closing the door behind me. I didn't want to spend too much time in there, I didn't know when Trevor was going to come back and I certainly didn't want him to barge in. I washed my face and brushed back my hair was my fingers. I needed to figure out how to get out of here; I haven't had any chance to figure anything out.

I sighed, turned around and opened the bathroom door. I had been looking down at the floor when I opened it, and I was greeted by a single, chipped, white plate. I looked curiously at it, and slowly raised my eyes. To my surprise, there were plates, pots and pans all over the floor, counter-tops and other pieces of furniture. I looked around shocked and confused. I'm pretty sure I didn't just trap myself in the bathroom with any army of dishes. I looked towards Ron, who was still sitting on the chair at the front door. He wasn't looking at me, rather he was looking at his phone. I leaned out and looked towards the bedroom. Door was open, and Trevor clearly wasn't there.

I looked back at Ron, clearly agitated. Bastard. I looked at the dishes again, not only was I surrounded, but Ron had surrounded himself. To make matters worse, none of the dishes were actually in clean spots, they were all in the worst of places. Most of the plates were on the floor, the table hadn't been fully cleaned and yet there were plates on there too, with some pots under it. There was a single pan on the dusty, dirty TV, and if I was right, there would be some stuffed behind the counter. Not only would I have to put it all away, but I'd have to re-clean them, all of them. This dude was asking for it.

The next morning, I was cooking Trevor and Ron's breakfast. I looked towards them, they were once again chatting at the table. I wasn't sure what they were talking about either, the frying was too loud and they were talking in almost hushed tones so that I couldn't hear. Ron's little prank last night, had kept me up quite a while; by the time I fell asleep, Trevor was waking me right back up to make him food. I looked towards Ron; time to raise his blood pressure. I moved the food in the pan to plates, and quickly moved to serve them. I placed the plates down and moved back to grab the coffee. Ron nor Trevor enjoyed sugar in their coffee, but I was sure Ron would enjoy something a little different today. I served their coffee and then returned to the kitchen to do dishes. I slowed my work, looking up to watch Ron. He raised his mug to his lips, I watched more intently.

He took a sip, eyes on Trevor, but as quickly as the liquid passed his lips, his face contorted into a disgusted look. He looked down at his coffee with a confused look and then back at Trevor who continued to talk to him. Ron nodded as Trevor spoke and looked back at me. I quickly shifted my eyes down and started working again. Ron placed his coffee on the table, and shifted closer to Trevor to focus.

"Hey, you gonna drink your coffee?" Ron jumped at the question, confused he asked,

"What?" Trevor obviously irritated repeated,

"Are you going to drink your coffee? Lily made that for you, are you just going to waste it? I bought that coffee." Ron's eyes shifted quickly, looking at the coffee and Trevor,

"Um…. It tastes a little funny." Ron replied a little slow, as if thinking carefully of what to say.

"I don't give a shit, drink the coffee. If you don't, I'm going to shove the mug down your fucking throat." Ron quickly grabbed the mug and chugged it. He very quickly looked sick, he swallowed the liquid and then gagged loudly. He looked like he was trying to hold it back, but he failed and gagged again. Trevor looked at him confused,

"What. The fuck is wrong with you?" Ron tried to answer, but the only thing that came out was another gag. He ran for the trash can and hurled. I turned towards the sink and started washing dishes, trying to not grin. I glanced back at Ron, who continued to hurl into the trash can, Trevor who was confused, and the empty salt shaker that was on the counter.

That's for the stunt you pulled last night, I thought to myself.

Trevor ended up staying with me the whole day, looking at me curiously as I began to make dinner. Ron was suddenly sick and while Trevor inspected the coffee mug, it seemed as if there was no evidence as to pointing to why Ron got sick. Trevor had interrogated me about it after Ron ran off, but I told him that I might have accidently put in the wrong thing. Trevor pointed out that Ron didn't like sugar in his coffee, but I shrugged it off, attempting to remain calm, not stutter, and replied that I thought he could use a little picker upper. Trevor nodded, and turned his attention towards the TV. That's right, accidents happened all the time. I tried to focus on cleaning the stove, but the blaring TV shows were distracting. I couldn't turn the TV on, and I couldn't figure out any of the programs on there; none seemed familiar. I've already figured out that I'm in a different state, but which state? I looked back at the TV, none of them were giving me any hints and Trevor kept it on things that couldn't relate back to location.

Ron suddenly busted in,

"I'm good now Trevor, we-we can get back to work." Trevor looked at Ron annoyed,

"Took you long enough, but unfortunately for you, I chose to take Wade with me this time. I need a more reliable meat shield." As if being cued, at the sound of his name, Wade walked in,

"I'm here Trevor!"

"Took you long enough you little shit. Ron, if you leave her unattended I'm going to shit down your neck!" The last bit was yelled through the door as it was being slammed shut. Ron winced at his words, seemed like a bad way to go. Ron looked at me, it wasn't a normal look of fear that usually followed Trevor's words, but immediate accusation. We glared at each other, brows furrowed. He took a step towards me, and I took a step back. I had been messing with this guy, and now I was going to find out what he was really capable was; this has been a series of bad decisions on my part. He then moved quickly, I moved out of the way. He apparently wasn't heading towards me, but towards the sink. He picked up the rags, and the dish soap and turned around. I looked at him confused while he glared at me. He then moved towards the couch, above them were cabinets; he opened one, and shoved all of the items in his hand inside. I was at first taken back at what he had done, but then it clicked. I couldn't reach that high. He then started grabbing other things; my hairbrush, Trevor had 'bought' somewhere, and my toothbrush. He grabbed some of the clean clothes I had chosen to keep and started shoving them in the cabinets. I stood mystified, unsure as to how to react. I certainly couldn't reach it, and I didn't trust standing on the chairs.

When he finished shoving most of my things in the cabinet, we stared at each other again.

This motherfucker.

The next day was spent trying to get my things out of the cabinets. It was exhausting and a little stressful. As Trevor was still gone with Wade, Ron was watching me. Sometimes he would pick things up and put them in a different cabinets while I was still removing things from other cabinets. This guy. I looked at him annoyed, while he looked at me with a blank expression. He clearly was pushing all the right buttons to make me mad, but I had to keep reminding myself, that lashing out would be a terrible decision. I couldn't yell at him or physically fight; both I would probably lose and from the way he holds himself, he clearly had a gun. I needed to make sure that nothing ever escalated to that point.

I kept things in my arms instead of trying to put them down. He couldn't take them from me, but as I held them, I had to think as to where to keep them. I had been keeping most things in the bag, and on the sink in the bathroom, but obviously they couldn't be alone with Ron. I sighed, it might actually be a better idea to keep them in the cabinets, even if I have to stand on shaky chairs. I put them neatly back into the cabinet. I carefully got down from the chair. It had been shaky getting up and down from it, thankfully it didn't break as I stood on it. I then turned my attention to the TV.

Having been up on the chair, pulling things out of cabinets, I saw that the TV, at a certain angle, looked really dirty. I'll quickly clean that up. I moved to the kitchen and grabbed cleaning supplies. Armed with a spray bottle and a rag, I walked towards the TV. As I began to clean it, the sounds of Trevor coming home could be heard. Ron quickly grabbed the chair he had been sitting on, near the front door, and swiftly moved to where I was standing. It was the spot he usually sat in. He placed the chair down, and turned around to see, Trevor opening the door. He began to lower himself down on to the chair; I snaked my foot around one of the legs of the chair and pulled it towards me. Ron who had been focused on greeting Trevor, lowered himself, realizing too late that the chair wasn't there. He fell back quickly, head hitting the seat of the chair and his body landing onto the floor with a thud. I continued to clean the TV. The next sounds I heard, were Trevor's menacing laugh. I felt a shiver down my spine, but I didn't hear the sudden stop and scolding that usually followed, instead Trevor continued to laugh and ignore Ron's pain as he sat on the floor in disbelief.

It was the afternoon of the next day, Trevor was out for a 'quick errand' as he put it, and Ron was stuck watching me again, as I cleaned the floor. I had to continuously clean it; when Trevor and Ron ate, they left crumbs and other food debris all over the place, a cockroach's favorite thing. I swept up the remains of breakfast, and sighed. It was getting exhausting cleaning up after the two and one didn't even live there. If only I could figure something out, so that I could make adequate plans of getting out of here. My thoughts were suddenly broken as I saw a black shadow race across the floor. My heart leapt into my throat. The shadow stopped moving.

In the middle of the dining area, between the counter and the tv, was a large cockroach. I panicked. I gasped, and jumped onto the counter. I held my broom towards the creature, trying to use as it as a threat for the bug, but it clearly didn't care. It moved swiftly towards me and the counter. I tried to move farther back, but I fell onto empty space and my foot slipped from under me.I dropped the broom as I fell backwards towards the floor. I crash landed, back and head first. I felt a sharp pain as I fell and I swiftly stood up and looked around. The cockroach had crawled onto the counter. I looked at it and then made a panic glance at Ron.

He leaned back in his chair, relaxed. He took a quick look at the bug, and then back at me, and then shrugged his shoulders.

This MOTHER- My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open and Trevor walking in.. My arms were up against my chest, trying to protect myself, I was wide-eyed as I quickly turned towards him, only to see him turned towards me.

"What the fuck is going on?" He angrily asked. I quickly pointed to the cockroach, my finger quivering. I attempted to speak but what came out were fragmented and frantic words and noises that made no sense. He quickly took out his gun, my hands raced to reach my ears in time as he aimed and shot at the cockroach on the counter. The booming sound of the gun scared me, as I had tried to cover my ears. My ears rang, I looked towards Trevor who was now turned towards Ron. Ron was standing up now, hands in a defensive position, fear in his eyes and face; Trevor was yelling him, but I couldn't hear anything. As the ringing quieted, the next thing I heard was the soft booming of Trevor's voice. It got louder and louder as the ringing went away, but it was obvious that Trevor was saying less than nice things to Ron about this incident. My thoughts went back to Trevor. He saved me. He didn't even hesitate to take out something that I truly feared and didn't even mock me for it. Wow, this guy saved me. I owe- wait a second. This is the same guy who kidnapped me, I owe him nothing. What was I thinking? This psychotic dude can shove it.

I looked towards the counter. The bug that once stood there, was gone; rather only a bullet hole remained and pieces of it on the counter. It had exploded all over the counter from the impact. My eye twitched,

Now I have to clean the counter, and it's still technically on the counter. Nothing changed!

I stood on a chair, looking through my cupboard. It seemed like I was going to needed to do laundry soon. I frowned at the thought; Trevor's washer and dryer were disgusting, and I had found no way to clean either of them. Trevor and Ron were standing outside, in front of the front door talking. I started to step down from the chair, when it suddenly shifted below me. I quickly caught myself using the cabinet, and steadied the chair. I took a deep breath. That would have hurt. I moved the chair back and forth. It was clearly uneven, and I was pretty sure it was going to give out any day.

I was more careful stepping down this time. As my feet touched the floor, an idea came to me. I turned around, Ron and Trevor were still talking outside. I quickly looked back at the chair, grabbed it and flipped it. It was rusted on one of the legs, breaking down slowly over time. I grabbed the leg and started attempting to bend it back and forth. It moved roughly, and it was difficult to try and weaken it. I put all my strength to bend it down, when it moved quickly and uncomfortably. I gently moved it forward, and put the chair back up right. I stood back up, I could hear Trevor and Ron still outside. I moved to the kitchen and grabbed a cloth, I needed to make it look like I've been working. As I was wetting the cloth, Ron came back in. His sudden entrance made me jump, and I quickly looked towards him, turning my head as I did so.

Ron and I glared at each other, as he moved towards the back of the trailer. So Trevor's coming back in. I thought to myself. He then moved towards the chair as I moved towards a counter to clean it. I glanced at Ron, he was about to sit in the chair. Concentrate on working. I turned my focus to the counter, and started scrubbing it. I held my breath as he lowered himself.

He was sitting in the chair fully now, but for some reason nothing happened. I stood up right and curiously looked at it. Maybe I didn't do as much as I thought I did. I started scrubbing the counter again. I heard the screech against the ground as the chair was scooted forward, but it was then followed by a sudden thud. That's all it needed to it to break.

-Present-

My head was still resting on my lower arm, as I tried to keep from laughing. I suddenly heard the door slam open. I heard Trevor's voice,

"Where the fuck is Ron?" I couldn't contain myself and busted out laughing. The confused tone in his voice was what set me off, and I couldn't feel myself stopping anytime soon. I held my sides, I was trying to make myself stop from laughing, but with the current situation it was a little hard.

"I'm right here Trevor." It was the pained voice of Ron. It set me off more, I was laughing harder than I had since I got here, and I could feel the tears streaming down my face.

"What. the. Fuck. is going on?" Trevor asked, seriousness and anger in his voice. Although I could feel the familiar fear I usually did, I still couldn't stop my laughing.

Well, this is embarrassing.