'As we dance with the devil tonight, don't you dare look at him in the eye.'


The sex had always been rough. Drake wasn't one to hold back and Lilly only just managed to keep up with him sometimes. Never the less, he had never actually hurt her before, and that was how she realised things were significantly more different than usual that night.

She was shoved into the room, stumbling as the back of her legs hit the bed and before she could right herself, he was on her. His fingers caught the bottom of her dress and it was tugged over her head, discarded in a heap in the corner. Lilly's own hands made for his belt but he flashed a smirk and grabbed her wrists. She was thrown onto the bed, her arms pinned above her head by one of his strong hands, the other carefully removing his clothes. Her whole body was tense, chest moving up and down at an unimaginable rate. What was he doing? This didn't seem right. He leant over her, his lips on her neck and as his free hand roamed her body, his teeth bit down into her flesh and she cried out, arching against him. He didn't stop, didn't even give her a warning before he jerked his hips and thrust himself inside of her and she bit back a scream, tears pricked the back of her eyes and Lilly wasn't sure how much more she could take.

'Drake!' She suddenly cried out and he stopped, leaning back and staring down at her.

He raised his eyebrows. 'What?' He snapped and then dropped back down, both hands landing on either side of her head. His face was inches from hers and she gasped as he gently kissed her lips. 'Is it too much for you?' He sneered. He reached behind him and then, quite suddenly, he was holding a switchblade.

For the first time he saw fear enter her eyes.


She was crying again. It wasn't the beautiful kind of crying you saw in films, either. Tears mixed with snot and saliva and the whole mixture coated the bottom half of her face and slid down onto her clothes. She sniffed pathetically and made a half-hearted attempt to wipe her face but what was the point? Her body was littered with bruises, cuts, scratches that ran deeper than the surface of her skin. She could feel him watching her, his lip curled in disgust. She used to be pretty, she could barely remember now, but she used to be able to hold her head high.

Her eyes used to shine.


'Lilly what's wrong with your wrists?'

Quickly sleeves were tugged down over the skin and Lilly glanced up into the worried eyes of Brianna, a shaky smile gracing her pretty face. 'Nothing.' She turned back to her Algebra. 'Have you got the answer to number three?' She could feel Brianna's eyes on her and she bit her lip, closing her eyes.

'It was him, wasn't it?' The other girl shook her head. 'I told you, Lils. This is going to far. He's hurting you.'

'It's nothing.' Lilly hissed.

Brianna suddenly did something very un-Brianna like, and grabbed Lilly's wrist. She tugged back the sleeve, revealing a ring of purple and black bruises shaped like prints of fingers. 'This isn't nothing! What else has he done? He hasn't hit you, has he?'

Lilly tugged her arm back and shoved the sleeve back down, glaring at her friend furiously. 'This has nothing to do with you.' She snapped. Her raised voice earned a few curious glances their way and she lowered her voice slightly. 'They're just bruises. They didn't even hurt-,'

'Lil-,'

'Don't you see? I can't let him win. I can't let him know he's hurt me, he's got me.'

'Stop treating it like a game! It's sick.' Brianna spat the last word as if it were poison in her mouth.

Lilly scoffed, shoving her books into her bag. 'We're all sick, Bri, why do you think we've been sent here.'


Drake sat underneath a tree, flicking the blade back and forth. Open and close. It shone in the sun and seemed to match the glint in his eyes. He had dragged it through her skin, revelled in the way the creamy white had parted for him. The way the blood had stained such perfection. His tongue swiped over his lower lip. The sun went behind a cloud then and it took him a moment to realise that in fact it hadn't, only someone was stood over him. He glanced up and grinned.

'You've got to stop leaving marks.' She said and she was almost pleading.

He laughed. 'Do they bother you?'

'No.' She snapped. 'Someone saw them.'

He shrugged. 'So make something up.'

'It's not that easy, Drake.'

He leapt to his feet then and to his satisfaction she took a step back. 'Then work harder.' He growled.


She should have listened to them. She felt like Eve who had eaten the apple, Edmund who had done it for Turkish Delight, Draco who wanted power. Why couldn't he just kill her and get it over with? She was ready now, ready to die, and every time she came that little bit closer he would drag her back into the light and laugh in her face. She wanted to kill him. She hated him.

Hate, hate, hate.