I don't remember how I kept that meal down. I felt as if I could bring it up again at any minute.

The atmosphere at the Dog in the Pond was perfectly relaxed, but the slightest disruption of the peace sent my stress levels rocketing. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow the bacon and cheese burger I'd ordered, which while normally my favourite tasted like cardboard in my mouth.
Cheryl nattered away, barely stopping to swallow, while Brendan made the occasional noise of agreement.

I managed to eat half the burger and a good portion of the chips, muttering something about meeting Doug to say thanks. Cheryl fussed about me being outdoors, but Brendan managed to calm her down.

I wanted to bottle it and run home, hide in my room and pretend that none of this was real.
With every step the air turned thicker, colder, filling my lungs like foam. All the while I could ask only one question; why me? Why did I have to have to be the result of a teenage girl being raped, why did I have to be the reason my mother began drinking herself to death, why did I have to be the one Brendan saved? Why couldn't I have a chance? A chance to be happy, normal… born into a loving family who would be the ones protecting me from the monsters?

When the park came into view, I knew it was too late to turn back. I just couldn't… I couldn't live with myself if Brendan was killed by that man. He'd done so much for me, and now it was my turn to return the favour. Somehow, the idea of letting this man die, of living without him, caused me such a horrific amount of physical and mental pain that I was prepared to do anything to keep him alive.

Surely this is how everyone feels about their father figures… or so I believed.

When I reached the park, I couldn't see a silver car. My heart gave tiny little leaps, my childish hope dangling the illusion of freedom before me. Just when I was about to leave, a black car pulled up beside me, the passenger side opening. A man I didn't recognise was sat in the driver's seat, aiming a gun at me. "Get in. If there's anyone following, you die."
When I got in, someone behind me wrapped a blindfold around my eyes, blocking off all my vision.

I lost track of time, but I remember the journey feeling endless.

Soon enough, the car came to a stop. I was pulled out of the car and guided in various directions, the cold metal of the gun pressed softly against the back of my neck. The ground became softer, the air slightly warmer, and I knew I was inside.
I was shoved down onto my knees, a door clicking shut behind me. I heard a key turn.
My body was shivered despite the warmth of the indoors.
"Steven…" His voice came from somewhere in the room, "I'm very proud of you. Did you like my little gift?"
I wanted to die, "… What do you want me to do?"
"Now, Steven, you're a big boy…" His footsteps grew closer, "I'm sure you can figure it out."
"I-I'm only doing this to save Brendan…"
"Oh, Steven… I don't care." His fingers pulled off the blindfold, "You're mine now, Steven. And now that I have you… I don't think I'll ever let you go."

The next few hours were complete torture. I don't remember most of it, I just shut my eyes, pretended it wasn't happening, tried to shut my mind down. All I remember were calloused fingers scratching against my skin, forcing themselves in unwanted areas, everything was agony and humiliation and filth. I'd never forget that pain. Imagine tearing flesh soaked in sulphur.
When he was done with me I was bundled back into the car and driven to the park, where I was left, bruised, shaking and partially bleeding in places. I had no idea how long I'd been gone for, that phone call felt like it was days ago.
When I made it home I slapped on a smile and made up a story about playing video games at Doug's, careful to hide my cuts and bruises.

I thought I'd collapse before I made it to the bathroom. The sight of the shower running was beautiful. As I tugged off my clothes, I caught a glimpse of my body in the mirror. I couldn't recognise the person staring back at me, but I hated him. Dried blood stained his upper thigh, fingerprint shaped bruises covered his skin, blood seeped from tiny cuts. He was dirty, disgusting, and I couldn't bear to look at him.
I stepped into the shower, but the water running down my body didn't make me feel better. I turned up the heat, higher and higher, practically emptying a bottle of body wash all over myself. I scrubbed hard, but the dirt wasn't shifting. It clung to my skin. My insides burned, I could feel his seed still in me. The feeling of those fingers… my skin crawled. Millions of insects… everywhere… the water wouldn't move them, they were burying into my flesh.

The water was getting so hot I could barely breathe from the steam.
I didn't realise I was screaming with pain until someone was hammering on the door.
"Steven? Steven! Are you okay?!"
I ignored him, he couldn't see me like this. I was filthy, he'd see the dirt on me, he'd know what I'd done. I kept turning the water higher and higher, the water blistering hot against my skin, but still the dirty clung. It was infusing with my flesh.
The door flew open and Brendan dragged me out the shower.
"No!" I screamed. Water was cleansing, Brendan couldn't touch me now, not while I was like this.
"Steven! What are yeh doing?" He yelled, trying to keep hold of me.
"Let go! Get off!" I screamed back, trying to fight him off, "No, let me go!"
"Steven!" He was holding me close against his chest, running his fingers through my damp hair. I couldn't fight him, so I broke down instead. I collapsed against him, sobbing pathetically. My bare flesh was bright red and soaked, but Brendan nor I cared.

He just held me close and I wept like the dirty, pathetic creature I'd become.