A/N: Hey guys! Sorry, I'm having a little trouble rewriting/finishing my other stories but until then, while I'm working on those. I thought I'd post a story I wrote a while ago but for some reason never posted. (I honestly don't know why). Hope you guys like!

This story was a little darker than I realized but I posted it under 'T'.

Disclaimer: Richelle Mead owns everything (except one character). I own nothing (except one character).

I let out a scream, muffled by the hand that clamped over my mouth.

That rough, calloused hand that I use to reach for in the hallway, that use to rest on the small of my back at dances or parties. His other hand was gradually making it's way up my leg, pushing my skirt along with it.

I felt like there were hands all over me and then I realized, after hearing two other deep voiced laughs other than the one on top of me, that was because there were. Their laughs sounded louder than they probably were or maybe it was just the echo of the empty house. I wanted to cover my ears, close my eyes, and hope it'd all be over soon, that I was someplace far away from here.

I couldn't close my eyes thought.

I kept looking at them through my blurry tears. Their eyes, green, blue, and brown, glistened above me, dancing with laughter and amusement. The only light in the room came from the moon outside the window but it was enough to see them by.

I just wanted it to be over.

I wanted to go home.

I stopped trying to yell, bite, or even move. My efforts were futile. They were too strong, the hands clamped over both of my wrists, one of them on top of me sitting at my waist so I couldn't kick. I was too small and too weak, and suddenly very tired and cold.

It'll be over soon, I told myself. I just have to think about something else. It'll be over soon.

I was crying softly now, quietly, and before I knew it, I didn't feel the weight of them on top of me any more. I could still smell the stale beer rolling off of them though so I knew they were still to close to me. I didn't dare move.

"What do we do with her now?" One of them asked.

"Yeah, we've had our fun," the other chuckled.

The one closest to me, that had been on top of me, let out a long sigh as if it was too much for him to even be bothered with me anymore. I saw the reflection of a flask being tipped back as he drank. Like his friends, I was waiting for his response, stiff as ever.

"Did you get the pictures?" he sighed, impatiently.

"Yup," one of them answered snapping another photo.

"Good. Leave her. We've made our point. Let's go," he instructed.

I heard his footsteps retreating as he made his way out of the room we were in and could see the light spilling in from the hallway. His friends took another long swig of their beer before dropping their bottles on the floor before coming to kneel beside me.

"Hopefully," one of them began, jerking my chin so that I was facing his direction. "You've learned your lesson about being snitch. This is your fault."

The other man forced my gaze to his on the other side of me. "I wouldn't tell anyone about this if I were you." I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Or next time we won't be courteous enough to leave you alive. Understand?"

After a moment, I gave the slightest nod and he said, "good."

"Really should've listened the first time. We tried to warn you," he said in a sing-song voice, as he stood.

A small amount of relief started to roll through me as I started to hope they were leaving and it'd all be over. All of that hope and relief disappeared as the one that first held my face said, "Just to make sure the message got through though, here's a parting gift."

I could feel my face contort with fear and confusion right before I felt the hardness of a fist against my cheek and I blacked out.