TW: Abuse, sexual harassment
When I thought I had finally gotten rid of them from my head, when I thought I was independent and able to function without them, the urge to be with them came rushing back.
After Jeremy told me about that offer, I locked myself inside my house and didn't leave. I've been here for ten days now. My mom has started to worry if everything is okay with me, and I've only responded by nodding.
Halloween is in two days, but I don't feel alive. I should save Jeremy from making a huge mistake, but I don't have the strength. I don't have the mental energy to handle it.
I checked the time on my phone. 9:11 p.m. It's been dark for hours, and it started pouring rain an hour ago. Normally, I would have enjoyed that.
Malachai sent me five messages asking if I was coming over. I didn't reply.
When I tried to get up, my vision flickered. I quickly opened the window and lay back down. Before I knew it, I fell asleep.
***
"Mike."
I heard a quiet voice. I slowly opened my eyes to see who it was. I turned my head to the left—only darkness. I turned it to the right… impossible.
"Mike, you haven't been answering me," he said. "I had to see you immediately. Why are you doing this to me?"
It was James.
"What are you doing here?" I mumbled sleepily. "How… how did you get in here?"
He pressed his hand against my mouth. Then he put a finger to his own lips, telling me to be quiet, and gestured toward the closed bedroom door. Someone was in the kitchen, coughing. I immediately recognized it—it was my mom. That cough of hers gave it away instantly. Was I dreaming? Was this some strange nightmare I was about to wake up from? I decided to test it by pinching the hand that covered my mouth. But he didn't even flinch.
"What are you doing here?" I asked through my teeth.
He slowly moved his fingers away, letting me breathe, and I repeated the question.
I didn't have to wonder long how he knew where I lived—Malachai was clearly the one who told him.
"Why aren't you answering my messages?" James asked, his voice heavy with sadness, ignoring my question. I couldn't tell if he was on something or just drunk, but I knew for sure he wasn't sober.
"What's wrong with you?" I ignored his words in return.
He glanced at the open window—except I didn't remember leaving it wide open. Something about all this didn't add up.
"It's not what you think… I didn't come through the window…"
"Stop talking nonsense and answer—what are you doing here, how did you get into my room?!" I cut him off.
"Please, don't yell," he whispered.
"What are you talking about, are you out of your—"
Before I could finish, James was already on top of me, gripping my throat so tightly I couldn't breathe.
"Are you going to be quiet now?" he hissed.
I nodded. My eyes slowly rolled back. I slapped him in the face and kicked him, but it was no use. He leaned forward, pressing his body against mine. "Did you miss me?" he asked. His gaze drifted to my crotch.
The corners of his mouth curved upward, forming a wicked smile, full of contempt and arousal. He stared at my erection in my shorts for a moment.
"Oh my, Mike, I didn't know you were so naughty. Do you like being dominated?" he chuckled. "Do you want me to come inside you?"