He leaned in, “It’s not time for Dorothy to go home yet,” he said, looking into my eyes. His eyes were tense, and void of any sign of kindness. Upon hearing this, I wished I was at home. I would give anything to be in my house, warm and safe in my bed. My stomach started turning in knots, I wasn’t sure if it was from the massive amounts of alcohol I drank or from the fear that was overcoming my body, but I was sure I was going to vomit. “I don’t feel good. I think I’m going to throw up. Please, let me out of this room!” Ryan ripped my hands from my shirt and pinned them tightly to my side. I couldn’t move; I was pinned between the wall and Ryan’s hard body. Struggling, I tried to break loose from his tight grip, but he clamped down harder. Sharp pains shot through my arms, where
