Er . it has got *some* description of you-know-what, I s'pose I should rate this chapter PG15 (if there is such a thing).

Forgive and Forget

Chapter 2

No, not again.

Hands were running up and down my frail body. Hurting yet pleasuring me at the same time. I clung on to the only thing I could grab hold of, hair. Dark locks of ebony hair, so soft and so smooth. Hungry brown eyes shone above me, taking in every single part of me, including my womanhood.

A mouth trailed down my neck, finding a weak spot, where it stayed and suckled. I could hardly suppress a moan. It wasn't right, I told myself. But my body had a life of its own. The mouth moved further down, Sucking, lapping, licking. I couldn't restrain any longer and moans after moans came out.

Then the mouth stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief and (to my shame) disappointment.

The face of my predator rose to meet mine. It was a boy, a boy my age, his handsome profile almost knocked me off my feet. My investigation did not go amiss as he smirked and pulled his mouth to mine. I tried to keep my lips shut but his tongue wormed its way into my mouth, exploring places.

I surprised both him and myself when I found myself kissing back. I tasted beer and cigarette on his mouth but that only made me want him more. I'm tired being the good girl.

But then, I stopped. I felt something enter me. And it was then that I knew, he wanted more than I was willing to give. I pulled my mouth back and scrambled, trying to get away. However, he was stronger, as he pinned my arms and pushed me against a tree with a brutal force.

His mouth found mine again as they worked their magic. But the piece of rod entering me held my attention and I refused to kiss him back. He then started to grind against me, I felt pleasure and pain at the same time. I hate myself.

He didn't stop when he felt me tense against him, in fact, he grinded harder and faster. I grabbed his hair, finding comfort in them. Biting my lips 'til they bled, telling myself I won't moan.

I could feel myself ready to explode as my body started to shake violently. No, no, please no. I would not enjoy this.

*

I gasped and opened my eyes. My breathing was coming in fast, laboured pants. I was sweating in the duvet. I looked frantically around me, it was dark, presumably midnight, I was at a . hospital. I couldn't remember why though.

The dream was still fresh on my mind, I've been having it every time I sleep for the past one month. I could still feel those caramel eyes roam with hunger, and the way those hands had been so harsh and brutal yet gentle and pleasing at the same time. I hugged my knees to my chest, sniffing.

I was never strong, emotionally or physically. But I always had someone to protect me, my bodyguards. Although my parents don't really care about me, they still put up a good front, the press and media love them to bits, and I'm just the sweet girl who was the outcome of the two famous people of our time.

I looked at my right arm, a healing gash was there. It was caused when I had scratched myself on a tree branch in attempt to get away. As you can see, it didn't work and I injured myself in return.

Suddenly, I felt sick. All the food I had eaten the previous day started to travel up my throat. I immediately leapt off the bed and ran with my hand covering my mouth towards the loo. No sooner than I got to the toilet cubicle, everything I had been holding in came up.

I stayed there for a couple of minutes. Waiting for any more to come. This had been going on for a week now. Then I stood up and walked over to the sink.

I stared into the mirror.

I didn't look like the girl I used to know. My hair wasn't the rich fiery colour they were, but an orange limp colour, my soft curls weren't bouncy anymore, they looked messy and dead. My skin didn't seem creamy or rosy, but greenish (probably from the vomit) and almost dry yellow. Hollow green eyes stared back at me, unlike the bright eyes I knew, not emitting anything other than sadness and gloom.

I wanted to punch the mirror. But was scared of hurting myself. I wasn't strong.

Slowly, I made my way back to the hospital bed. My skinny frame seemed to crush under the weight. I curled up in a ball shape and drifted back to sleep . eventually.

When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I saw was a nurse. She put my breakfast tray on my bedside table and went away, she didn't see me waking up.

I glanced at my breakfast, but then decided to pass. The porridge looked like goo and I didn't want to eat scrambled eggs.

My parents weren't here, surprise, surprise. I didn't expect them to come and check how I was doing. But I did feel miserable, and alone. No one had come to see if I'm okay.

Then I thought about him, and surprised myself by feeling a thump on my heart. I scolded myself for feeling that but I then told myself that he was undoubtedly very handsome. And mysterious. I guess any normal girl would feel the same thing.

I do feel sorry for him despite everything he had done to me. Knowing my father and mother, and their status in the world. He is very unlikely to get a fair trial. Although the court sworn to be fair and just. The human race can never be like that when a great and powerful figure is on one side of the argument. I'm 90% sure that my family will win.

I didn't want to bring this matter to court, I just wanted it go away, to be forgotten but my mother and father gave me no choice. When I had returned home the day after the incident, they cornered me and demanded the truth. Apparently, one of my bodyguards escaped from Potter's drunk attacks and raced home where they told my parents everything. I told them everything of course, it was hard to explain why you've got bruises and cuts all over your body, and why all your clothes are either torn and dirty.

They hadn't acted like what normal parents would act like. They didn't ask whether I was alright or anything but sent me to my room with the family nurse while they discussed the actions that must be taken.

When I walked pass my sister, Petunia, she said she heard what happened and told me I was a disgrace to the family name. She then spat at me and slammed her bedroom door shut.

I had never felt more unwanted. My parents always adored Petunia more than me, and Petunia took every chance possible to show me that, but it was very painful when your whole family act like they don't care. After all, they were my flesh and blood, the very people I should be able to lean onto no matter what. But they weren't like that at all.

I knew that this whole court battle was really for publicity, my family was rich as it is and didn't need any money (the tramp cannot pay any anyway). They wanted to use me to be more famous and be in the headlines of the newspapers. Huh, some parents they were.

They not only gave no concern for my feelings towards this accident, they actually told me what to say in court. And forced me to rehearse it. When doing interviews, they kissed my cheeks and patted my hair, crying as if they care. I hate them.

I shut my eyes, my head was feeling dizzy again from thinking too much. Noiselessly, I snuggled into the warm duvet and blessedly feel asleep again.

A/N Well? What do you think? Tell me, tell me, TELL ME!!! Sorry, I'm going mental =^^=.