Suffering in Silence
Summary: The gang know that Johnny's abused… what if there's something else they didn't know about?
Disclaimer: I own no one.
Chapter One
(Johnny's P.O.V)
He finally left me alone. He was done using me as his toy, using me for his own pleasure, the sick fuck.
He was out cold in the hallway; barf covering the area just outside my bedroom door. I sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain and the blood.
It all started when I was twelve years old. I was sleeping off the old man's earlier beating for slamming the door. Him and Ma were arguing, as usual, when she stormed out the door. It was something new; she had never done it before.
Silence stayed for a few moments before I heard the old man coming upstairs. His footsteps were aggressive, angry, just as he was feeling. They stopped outside of the closed bedroom door.
'Oh, Jesus, don't come in, don't come-' I prayed, but of course, it was ignored.
He slammed the door open and stared at me; I could tell by his posture that he was drunker than hell. His bleary eyes scanned the room before they landed on me. Staring at me for a few moments, he began to smile.
"Boy," he slurred. "You look like a- a…" he thought for a moment. "Girl."
He was right; I did look like a girl with my wide eyes, long lashes and my small body. I still do today.
I had let out a weird squeak and wanted to run for it. Instead I just laid there staring at him. There was something in his eyes that was threatening, almost hungry-looking, that scared me more than hell. He started towards me.
I tried to run, but the pain slowed me down and he caught me effortlessly. He shoved me down back onto the bed and held me there, while groping and kissing. I almost choked on the beer after-taste.
Finally he flipped me onto my stomach, ripping my jeans off at the same time. My eyes widened; I remembered all the stories that I heard from other greasers, all about sex.
I was ready to make another run when he thrust deep inside of me; I screamed from the sudden pain. He didn't listen, and continued thrusting as I thrashed. He stopped only when he came, and collapsed on top of me, squishing me. The booze finally took an effect and he was passed out; and wasn't about to get off for quite awhile.
I shuddered from the memory. Quietly, I pulled my jeans and boxers on and grabbed my jean jacket. I tiptoed out into the hallway, the pain still throbbing. I stepped into the barf but didn't care; I was more concerned about leaving.
TBC…
Yeah, I felt like re-writing the story. I wanted to change a few things in the first chapter, and I want to do a complete re-write of chapter two.