Nightmares with Knives
Tyler walks into the kitchen, me in trail obediently.
Tyler spins around and flicks the switch on the radio, turning up the volume so loud you could practically see the speakers thumping. This is not like him, I remember him saying how loud music messes with his bio- rhythm or something...
I try constantly to raise my voice above the noise.
It's 3am, what the hell are you doing?
He chuckled patronisingly, We're both awake, there's no one around for miles. Come on, ease up a little.
His hands slid down to my hips. Again, that funny feeling enswamps me, making me not sure whether I want run screaming, or punch his smirking face in.
I did nothing. I was inanimate as he moved for both of us and then, inanimate and paranoid as he force- layed me down on the kitchen table. I'm excusing my the reason for my lack of activity as a mixture of of curiousity and fear.
Then from behind his back, he produces a knife. Now I'm just scared. No, fucking terrified. Tyler is nuts, God knows what the hell he was gonna do.
He clambers onto the table and stradles me, making it impossible for me to move if I wanted to. He has my hands secured above me and with his other hand, he lowers the knife to my hips and in a fluid motion, my vest is now ripped in two, exposing me for him to....whatever he goddamn wanted, really.
I open my mouth, ready to spurt uncontrollable panicky verbous but he pushes the knife gently on my lips, then leans down and kisses me, the music still blaring in the background. The intensity was killing me.
Want more? He laughed. God yes. He could make even Snow Whte an unpure, little whore. I gulp, unsure of what to say. He leans down again and begins to lick up the side of my neck. He still has my hands, this is killing me.
Then he gets off. I am free again. He swigs back the end of an open nearby beer can and heads for the stairs.
Where are you going?! I called, sitting up slowly. He looks back at me blankly.
To bed. He says. I look around me, a bit like a lost puppy, a little disappointed.
Aren't you gonna finish me off? I ask. He grunts, amused.
What were you expecting? For me to fuck you on the kitchen table?!
Well...yeah, actually...
My honesty was so blunt. He turns around and goes back up the stairs, chucking the empty beer can behind him.
Leaving me alone again.