07

thomas

Cecilia did not return. It's already three o'clock in the morning and the bitch girl is gone. Her cell phone remains unavailable. I already called her parents asking for her, threatening, but they both seemed surprised and worried, so I ruled out her running away at their behest. I'm pissed because I hate it when people disobey me. I told her to be here at the hotel when I got back, and she was supposed to be here. Simple.

I give up waiting.

I get out of bed and put on a shirt before grabbing my car keys. I take the elevator down and make some calls. I look for information about parties in the vicinity and it is not difficult to find the location of the “big party” on social networks. I put the location into the GPS and it only takes ten minutes to arrive. I see a bunch of brats in front of a fraternity house with red cups in their hands and the racket rolling down the middle of the street.

I curse Cecilia out loud, wanting to crush her little neck, and park the vehicle. I go d