Short chapter, but I hope you like it. I'll do a better job of updating this week. Warnings in this chapter for violence, but this is one of the last chapters (until the end) that will be violent. There's some good emotional stuff coming up soon, so keep reading!

Chapter 7

Sam tried for the fourth time to pull himself free from the hook. He tightened his abs and pulled his knees up to his rib cage, then began slowly rocking backwards and forwards. On a long swing forward, thrust his feet out, hoping the force would pull him free from the wall. He wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to do, but he was desperate to get down. If he stretched himself as much as possible, he could almost touch the floor with his toes, but the fact remained that he was completely vulnerable.

He had woken up suddenly to the throbbing in his leg, but what caught his attention was an extreme stretching sensation in his rib cage. He couldn't quite place the sensation until the fog lifted and he realized he was suspended by his wrists. The pressure made his wrists sore, but it was by far not the worst pain he'd been in in the last 24 hours. What scared him was that he couldn't move. And they were clearly planning something. If they weren't, they would have just left him where he had fallen or stood the table back upright. The door was locked; there was really no need to restrain him, so Sam knew that something was wrong.

Johnny and Tyler were the first through the door, lumbering down the stairs. Johnny was wiping off his mouth with his sleeve, and they were both laughing about something. They seemed like they were in a really good mood. "Maybe now that they have what they wanted they'll let me go?" Sam didn't want to crush the tiny, childish voice in the back of his mind, but his heart knew it wasn't true.

"Heyyyyy!" Tyler started cheerfully, "Look who's up! Our blond little sweetheart." He scratched Sam's abs playfully, just under his belly button . . . "The way you would scratch a dog," Sam thought. Sam shot his good leg out and caught Tyler in the chest with his foot, hitting him hard enough to send him stumbling backwards. He knew the triumph would only last a moment, but he couldn't deny himself that small victory. When he regained his footing, the humor was gone from Tyler's eyes. Now they were black like coal. "You want to play it like that, huh kid."

Sam watched in slow motion as Tyler drew back his massive right fist. It swung forward and upward, painfully slowly, inching closer as Sam tried to brace himself for the blow. He tried desperately to harden his stomach, but couldn't with the way he was stretched. First he just felt skin on skin. Then the fist crushing into him, in farther and farther until he swore he could feel it in his spine. He drew in a sharp breath and tried to pull his knees up to protect his abdomen, but they were pushed down harshly. Johnny and Jared each held one of his ankles as Don quietly flicked the camera on.

The world sped up, back to its normal pace, as fists barreled into his stomach over and over again, too quickly to count. Tyler was grunting and beginning to sweat as he punched his target harder and faster than Sam thought anyone could be capable of. The fervor was clearly beginning to work up Tyler's arousal. Sam felt weaker and weaker. He felt like every organ in his body was on the brink of explosion; he could visualize his stomach disolving into a pinkish red putty floating around in the vacant cavity that was supposed to be his core. "Sick," Sam thought, "You're sick." He wasn't sure if he meant Tyler or himself. The bile began to rise as Tyler beat him closer to injury, burning his throat. He began to retch. He tried to stop it, but his stomach surged in protest. He closed his eyes as he felt it happen.

When he opened them, Tyler's jaw and his white t-shirt were dripping with blood.

Sam's lips were white and trembling. "I-I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he stammered, seeing the rage burning in Tyler's eyes. "P-Please stop hitting me. Please. I can't. I'm sorry, just please. I can't." He felt himself on the verge of whimpering and tried to hold it back but couldn't. He hurt too much. If he could just curl up in a corner somewhere and die, that would be enough. Or just fade into the wall. He never thought he'd beg God for anything. His mom had always told him to ask God politely, but only when it's really important, because God hears us best when we ask with our best manners. But as Tyler unzipped his pants, looking at him like a shark smelling blood, he found himself pleading with God to deliver him from these cold walls and take him somewhere he could be safe and alone.

Tyler took him violently. Sam wondered if the rabid way he was moving could even feel good for Tyler, or if he just got off on the power of it all. It wasn't like before. He wasn't so scared this time. He knew what this kind of pain would feel like. This time, he was just exhausted. He wasn't sure how much more his body and mind could take before they collapsed and left him a shell. As they whipped him with studded belts and strangled him with electrical cord, as they beat him and called him disgusting names, as they each took him more times than he cared to remember, Sam drifted away.

He was standing in the boys bathroom at his new high school with his head in the sink. Freezing, red ice slush was sliding down his stomach into his jeans, and his face stung. But then there were warm fingertips brushing through his hair. That simple touch felt so good that Sam would have left his face in that sink with water flowing over it forever, if that meant she would keep touching him like that. A gentle tug on his hair pulled him up from the water. She had the most beautiful eyes. Not like his. His were bright and excited and childlike. Hers looked at you like she knew, knew everything about the world, and knew about you. He felt that grin tugging at him. He knew he had a wide smile and usually tried to contain it, but not this time. This time he let a gigantic, megawatt smile take over his face. He didn't care that she thought it was too much. He was going to marry this girl someday.