Oh my. I need to get to school, like, right now. I'm so glad I did my homework this time.
Enjoy the chapter!
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Kevin's POV.
It's been two weeks. Bryan has come twice before now, and he hasn't raped me again. I'm too scared to get help, to tell someone, to stand up for myself. I feel so dirty, so helpless, so beaten. My parents are concerned. I've gotten the 'No one has the right to bully you' speech from the two of them more times that I can ever remember before. I can't sleep at night without my door and windows being locked and the curtains drawn. I check in the closet, under the bed, and behind my bookshelf before I even think about climbing under the covers.
The first time he came back, it was at seven at night four days after he raped me. My father was buried in his study downstairs and my mother was at a friend's. He got into my room through the window and told me not to make a noise, and I didn't. He had a knife. All he did was cuddle with me. He didn't really hurt me, but I was horrified. I still am. The second time, he caught up with me on my way home from school. Summer vacation is only two days away, and my parents are getting ready to leave for the first week of summer like they always do. I'm so scared about what's going to happen to me while they're gone that I can't sleep at night. When I was walking home, he appeared beside me suddenly and took my hand, and just held it the whole way home. He didn't say anything.
I can't think straight right now, so I'm sorry if this isn't making sense. My mother is saying something too me. Her hand is on my face, and I think I just flinched.
"Oh honey, I'm so worried about you. Are you sure you'll be alright?"
I look up at her with a forced smile. "Yeah, mom, don't worry. I'll be fine, I'm just going for a walk."
"I think it'll be good for him." My father said from the table. I'm standing in the kitchen before my mother, ready to head out into the front hall and out the door. "You look like you could use the exercise, kiddo."
"Dear," my mother started in a disapproving tone, shooting him one of those looks. They never argued; as strange as it is this day and age, my parents are my idea of a perfect couple. But I waved at her before she could discourage my dad any more, and threw them both a smile.
"I'll see you both later, okay?" I didn't wait for an answer. The front door closed tightly behind me and I slipped down the front steps. It's an old house, and my mother's garden is in full bloom; pinks, reds, yellows, violets, all splattered across lush green swirls in my peripheral vision as I dart across the cobblestone driveway and up a small slope, past a few old trees. My home, in all its sunny, classical glory, slides out of view as I move, before all at once it's gone, and I feel a large hand grip my upper arm. I gasp, turn, and find Bryan pressed against the thick girth of a tree trunk. He's smiling, wearing dark colors and thick boots.
The sunlight is struggling to break through the leaves and branches above us, leaving us both in shadow. He leans in and plants a kiss on my forehead and I flinch.
"Hey babe." Oh god, why does he have to call me that? I don't love you, you freak, stop acting like I do! "How are you today?"
I don't answer. I tug at his grip, but ultimately, I know it doesn't matter. He's not going to let go. He pulls me along before I catch up with his long stride, and we start the hike. He had told me about it just before my walk home from school ended, and I went. If I didn't, he would kill me and my mom and dad. He could, too. He could do that scary wind thing and blow my mother down the staircase and she'd break her neck, and he could stab my dad in the heart, and then he would corner me and slit my throat. Or something like that. So I went on the hike with him. We didn't talk for a long time, before he started asking me questions. Simple questions, like 'do you have grandparents', and 'what is your middle name'. I tried to answer them as discretely as possible. I don't want him knowing anything about me.
And I was doing fine. Until, that is, he asked me something I was not expecting.
"What are parent's like?"
… What? Who doesn't know what parent's are like? Even if you're an orphan, you still have that cliché image of a mom and a dad, right? I hesitated and felt his grip tighten on my arm. I stumbled over a root, suddenly, and the next thing I knew, I was on his back. A piggy-back ride? I was too confused and scared to keep thinking of an answer, but he asked again, and I just started talking.
"They love you." I said right off, startling myself. He said nothing, and slowly, I continued. "… They take care of you. Keep you safe…. They don't affiliate you with sex." I said flatly, suddenly angry. So Bryan thinks he loves me, huh? He wants me to love him? Well, to hell with that, I'm just going to say what love is and point out how he's failing at it, and then he can choke on that and hopefully die. I feel him tense against me, and I flinch, but keep going.
"They don't hurt you. And… they'd… they'd give anything to know if something was hurting you."
Bryan stopped walking. He just stood there, holding me against his back, completely still. I swallow and calm up. I've said something wrong, I think. I was trying to offend him, in truth; some irrational part of me wants to hurt him like he's hurt me. But I know that just isn't possible. I can't even squish beetles, let alone do something as bad as that to another human being.
"You're cute, you know that?" He says, suddenly. He sounds angry, even though I can't see his face. My heart rate picks up considerably. What if he hurts me again?
"Cute and stupid."
And then he dropped me. I landed on the ground hard, rolling onto my back quickly. I move to get up, but he turns and kneels down, pinning me to the dry earth. I gag, horrified. No, no, not again! Not here, not now, not again!
"If I said something stupid like that when I was growing up, I would have been punished."
I whimper and open my mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. I'm breathing in and out, quickly, gasping. I'm shaking. He's perfectly still, glaring at me.
"I would have been smacked for that, and then made to train hard for an extra hour. What about you? Do your 'loving parents' just scold you? Send you to your room without supper? Huh?"
I shake my head. Wait, well… what? I didn't say anything bad, I didn't! What is even going on! He's just looking for an excuse to rape me, isn't he?
His palm hits my face, and my head snaps around. Stunned, I freeze up.
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Bryan's POV.
I freeze. I just smacked Kevin across the face. Why did I do that?
Oh yeah, what he said. They'd give anything to know if something was hurting you.
What a filthy lie. My father didn't give a shit when he sent me off to the abbey. He didn't care when he found out that Boris was physically and sexually abusing us. He didn't care. And then he died, and left me totally alone. And here's this kid, this tiny little thing, telling me that his parents loved him over everything.
And despite everything, I believe him. I've been watching those people for some time now. They're so happy, so in love. His mother bakes and cooks and gardens and goes to charities and paints amazing pictures. His father plays chess and writes and reads and takes care of the house. Kevin fits in wonderfully, their perfect little son; he plays chess with his father, he helps his mother in the garden and the kitchen, he draws and writes and has a room full of books and music. They're perfect. Is that why I keep coming back? I've gotten what I wanted; I banged him. I've seen him tied up, with a choke-ball in his mouth, totally helpless and at my fingertips. I've heard him scream my name, I've been inside of him. And yet I want so badly to be in his life, to be part of that perfection. I want to be him.
But I'll happily settle with having him instead. If I can't be part of the family, I'll own the son. I lean in, suddenly, and press my lips against his firmly. He squirms, sobbing. Poor thing. Little thing. My thing.
And then there's the matter of his friends.
Lee is scary strong. I'd never admit it to anyone, but that guy is a fucking force of nature. And he's constantly asking Kevin what's wrong. If he finds out about me and what I'm doing, I'm going to be in a metaphoric pickle. Bitchy teammate is another problem; she always wants to hang out with Kevin. I've been keeping him away from his friends as best I can, but I can't do it too much or else someone will get suspicious. And, oh, how I hate watching him with his friends. He's protected and he knows it. But he also knows I'm watching; even when I'm not, I bet he thinks I do.
I deepen the kiss. He's twisting beneath me, but soon he just gives up. I keep going, sucking face deeply before I finally feel content. I pull up and look down at him. Like a doll, his face is. Yoda moment. But it's true; perfect, round, beautiful. His mother's eyes, his father's nose, a god's form. I've been biding my time, hoping to somehow connect with him, but suddenly, it doesn't matter. I want to take him here and now. And yet, I can't bring myself to do it. He's trying not to cry, I can tell. He's trying so hard, in fact, that it's cute. I kiss him again, lightly, before I hoist him up with myself and start walking again.
No one says anything for the duration of the hike. I take random turns and forks before finally, after four hours, we're back by the large tree near his house. His eyes are on the ground, as they have been the entire time. He looks so sad and afraid that I hug him, pulling him into me strongly, squeezing him. He pulls back the second he can and moves to dart away, but I catch hold of him.
"When your parents are gone," I start, knowing that he's been dreading what I have in mind for the week the entire walk, "I am going to stay with you. You're going to tell your friends that you're going with your parents this year. Understand? And you and I are going to spend the week together."
He flinches, hesitates, and then allows himself to let a few tears loose. He's cringing at the thought, his eyes glued to the ground. I wipe the tears away with my thumb before I stick it in my mouth, tasting the warm saltiness. His tears taste pretty good, I'm surprised to find.
"Understand?" I say a little more forcefully, trying not to scare him too much. After a pause, he wipes his eyes and nods.
"Yes Bryan." He whispers. I smile.
"Good. Don't let your parents know you were crying." I say, before I reluctantly let go of him and vanish into the growth of the forest.
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I can't sleep. In five hours, my parents will leave for their trip, and leave me alone with Bryan for a week. What will happen? What will he do to me? He'll tie me up, won't he? He'll rape me and leave me like that, helpless and bound, for whenever he wants to do it again. He'll beat me up, he'll rape me again and again. Tears come again; they had just dried, and yet here hey come. I've been crying all night, on and off. My pillow is damp. I have a pounding headache. And I can't stop tripping over what he did to me the first time.
I remember not being able to move. He kept adding things, like rope and handcuffs. I was coughing and screaming into the choke-ball. And the pain. There was so much pain, and it just kept getting worse. He wouldn't stop. I was trying to beg for mercy, trying to beg for him to stop, but I couldn't talk with that thing in my mouth. My jaw started aching, but I kept screaming. The music stopped, but I kept screaming. Finally, I remember the moment of horror when my voice cracked and sound just wouldn't come out anymore. I gasped and moaned silently. I was being shoved back and forth across the table with every movement he made. He was grunting, laughing to himself. He was happy.
And he's going to do it to me again.
I'm breathing hard now, panicking. I have to stop this, and I have to stop it now. I can't let my mom and dad leave. My mommy and daddy. If I wasn't so scared, I would probably laugh. That's how I feel towards them right now. They can take care of me, they can save me. They can make everything better. Bryan can't kill them, my dad is really strong and my mom is the one who taught me martial arts for god's sake. I sit up and feel myself sliding off of my bed, blanket still wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I slide barefoot across the floor of my room and to the door, pulling it open with my blanket-covered hand. The hallway is dark, and moonlight is splashing through whatever windows are allowing it in. I shudder a moment, suddenly paranoid that Bryan is waiting to grab me around every corner. I dart down the hallway, my feet padding on the wood, before I reach my parent's door.
And I sure as hell don't hesitate about opening it. I push it open and slide in, closing it swiftly behind me. My mother shifts but doesn't wake up, and quickly, I scurry across the floor and over the foot of the large bed, finally coming to a stop between them. I bury myself under the blankets on their bed and press my face into their pillows, smelling their scent; the scent of my parents, this house, my home. My mother turns, suddenly awake, and concern falls across her tired features. My father wakes more slowly, turning awkwardly and gurgling some form of speech through the sleep he's trying to overcome. My mother is the first to speak legibly.
"Honey, what's wrong?" She asks. I'm fifteen. I haven't done something like this since I was five.
"Mom!" I blurt, pulling my face out of the pillows. Tears are in my eyes. I fall into her arms and press my face against the nape of her neck. My father sits up, now awake, and asks the same thing my mother just did. Finally, I compose myself, and pull away from my mother.
"He raped me!" I gag. Wow, that wasn't how I wanted to do this. They both stare at me, startled. Damnit. I don't want to explain this, but I'm going to have to anyway.
"Bryan! Two weeks ago he showed up when you guys were at a play and he raped me, and ever since he's been following me and meeting me and hugging and kissing me and telling me that he loves me but he doesn't and he says that if I tell anyone he'll kill you guys and then he'll slit my throat and smear my blood all over my body and he's going to stay here when you guys are gone and rape me again and again and he hit me and Idon'twanthimto, help me!"
Well composed, dumbass. But my parents are freaking now. They fire questions at me at first, my mother's eyes tearing over. My sobbing confirms my confession, apparently, because my father suddenly pulls me into a hug and shushes me soothingly. My mother is crying now, and falls into the hug on the other side of me. Sandwiched between my parents, I hear two different things above me. My father, saying "Its okay, kiddo, it's going to be okay," and my mother's emphatic yet hushed "Oh my baby, my poor baby!"
Time passes, and in the locked protection of my parent's warm bed, my tears slow and I fall towards sleep. Somehow, we've fallen back down onto the bed. I'm lying between my parents, and my mother is pulling the blanket up over me higher and letting me snuggling into her. I can here my father talking quietly, but not to my mom. I flinch. Is Bryan there? Turning, my mother catches sight of the horror on my face and pulls me back toward her gently.
"It's alright, honey. He's calling the police, that's all."
I whimper. Now this is serious. Bryan will hear the police come, and he'll know what I've done. He'll kill me! Wait, no, stop. Mom is here, I'm fine. It's so warm and cozy, just enjoy it. Or at least, that's what I'm telling myself. I'm exhausted, and suddenly, I feel a calm fall over me. It's refreshing, and alien, but I'll take anything I can get.
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Bryan's POV.
They should have left by now. They should be down the driveway and onto the road. They should be vanishing into the distance. And I should be going into the house, finding Kevin, and banging him. Why aren't they leaving?
No lights have come on. The car is sitting there, unoccupied. And as I'm staring intently at the front door, I hear it; a car, coming up the cobblestone driveway.
The driveway curves through the trees and out of sight before it hits the road, so I can't see the car at first. But as I crouch in the thickness of the garden and crane my neck to see just what is coming toward the house, my heart flips several times. The car pulls around the bend, it's headlights flaring in the early morning darkness, and as I strain my eyes to make it out, I feel said heart drop another twenty degrees in frozenness.
A cop car.
That little shit! He fucking told his parents! I clench my first around the nearest plant and crush it violently. Damnit! That goddamn mutt ratted me out! I'm going to- The second I- But-
Overcome with shock and rage, I just can't think of something to do to him. I watch as two men get out of the car and walk up to the house, knocking on the door. Kevin's father opens it and beckons them in awkwardly. They all look tired. I sit there in the garden for a few minutes after the door closes, mind blank. Then, suddenly, I know what I'm going to do.
I stand, hunched over, and slink through the garden around to the back of the house. I pull myself up some of the vines of the stone wall of the house, until I reach the roof that extends over the first level of the house. Creeping across the old covering, I find myself at an ancient gutter pipe and pull myself up half-way until I reach a window. Its leaded panes glisten in the white morning light, and I pull it open silently and slip into the house.
I'll kill them all. Well, all but him. I'll make him watch. Police first, then his father, then mother. When they're all dead, I'll beat him. I'll rape him. And then I'll take him with me to the abbey, where I'll beat him again and lock him up in chains and bars in a cell in the depths of the abbey. And I'll keep him there until I tire of him, and then I'll slit his throat.
But until then, I'm going to have to stay very quiet. I can hear his father's voice downstairs, and then a strange voice. They're talking quietly, standing in the front hall. I peer into various rooms as I pass before I glance through the crack of his parent's room. A large form is curled under the blankets of the bed, and I recognize it as Kevin and his mother. I slide it silently and creep across the floorboards, stopping just a few inches away from the bed itself. Kevin's back is turned to me and his mother's eyes are closed. He's snuggling into her, buried under the blankets. I feel a growl come on and suppress it, catch my breath, and speak.
"You little mutt." I spit angrily, my voice low and threatening. His mother's eyes – a beautiful pale violet – fly open and she sits up, startled. Kevin flinches and jolts around to face me, and I get to watch as his face falls into a look of total trepidation. Then his mother screams.
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Kevin's POV.
AHHH! Oh my god, no! He's standing only two feet away, his hands are flying toward me, they're around me neck, and- ACHK! I can't breathe! I twist, choking loudly. My mother's hands fly forward as well and attempt to pry Bryan's away, but it works against her. Removing one hand from my neck, Bryan reaches up and smacks my mother away. She screams again, and I hear thumping echoing up the stairs outside. Bryan forces an unbearable amount of power into his squeezing all at once before he lets go of my neck and turns, pulling a knife out of wherever he was keeping it. The room is reeling. There's a mad tussle across the room, a flashing of a knife, a cry of pain, the smacking of a fist.
I pull myself up on the bed, coughing. My neck in sore, numb almost. I turn my head and blink into the dim light. My father is swinging a fist and Bryan. One of the policemen – he's been to a barbeque at our house before, I think his name is Eric – is holding his arm in pain. The other is assisting my dad. My mother is back on the bed, cradling me, telling me to get up and follow her. I do. In a daze, she pulls me out of the room and down the hall. My mother is excellent in crisis. When there was a nasty fire at the bakery a few years ago, it was my mother that kept everyone calm. She led me into the dining room and sat me down on the small Victorian love seat. I'm sobbing, gasping for breath. She sits beside me and tries to sooth me.
The front door opens. Lee, with Mariah in tow, springs towards us. How did they find out about this? My mother explains that she had my father call them before the police arrived. When she tells them what's going on upstairs, Lee growls and turns angrily toward the staircase, but Mariah stops him. I'm still sobbing. I think I've been doing so the whole time, but I'm not sure. What was that? What did Mariah say? She's hugging me. She smells like Papaya and mint. I'm gasping for breath.
And that's when one of the police came plummeting down the staircase violently. Mariah screamed as he fell still on the mahogany floor below, but before anyone could see if he was alright, Bryan can bursting into sight. His knife, long and styled for hunting, flashed before he came to a stop in the doorway to the dining room, spotting Lee. Stunned, he fell to a momentary standstill before he smiled.
"Fitting." He mumbled.
This is the first time Lee has seen Bryan since the day of the tournament back in Russia. He's been brooding over how he could do nothing to stop him, and I know he's wanted revenge. But now he stands between Bryan and me, not moving, face set on one emotion. I can't tell what it is. He and Bryan stare at each other, and my mother stands slowly. Mariah wraps her arms around me and swallows, obviously startled to see Bryan. Both Lee and Mariah aren't fooled by his facial change. Why should they be, I wasn't.
And then, Bryan lunged forward.
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The end.
…
NOT. Haha. Had you going there, didn't I? Sorry for the cliffie, I really need to get out the door and to school. Tah!