Truth or Dare (boyxboy)

Truth or Dare (boyxboy) || Chapter 14: My angel

"Come to my house tonight? It's a Friday so you can spend the night, my mom would love to get to know you..."

He really wanted something like me at his house? To sleep over?

He probably just wants into your pants. You fucking slut.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the demons made their return. It was final period, the last class of the day and I still hadn't made a decision. Pathetic.

My eyes snapped open when a hand clamped over my mouth. I tried to yell, but it was muffled by said hand. My eyes darted to the teacher as my body was lifted and dragged out of my chair and toward the back door of the classroom. 

The teacher kept his back to us as the person dragged me outside against my will. Once in the hallway, I was thrown against a locker, hard. I yelled loudly in pain, the unbearable pain from this morning returning as well. I looked up to see Brett, one of the football players on Tristan's team.

"Stop rubbing your gay ass all over our best player, little slut. You don't deserve him. You pathetic fat ass. Something like you can't have anything to do with someone like him. Do I need to spell it out for you?" I just stared at him in pure terror. He smirked, "Here, actually I will."

He pulled out a red sharpie and pinned me to the lockers. I struggled and tried to yell, but he punched me in the stomach so hard that it hurt to breathe. By this time, I couldn't move. It hurt so much.

He pushed up my bangs and pressed the cold sharpie ink to my forehead. Scribbling letters into my skin. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I whispered desperately for him to stop. I didn't want him to write it. I knew what we was writing. He moved the sharpie to my cheek quickly and began writing again.

Unexpectedly, he finished on my face and grabbed my arm, sliding up my sleeve and writing the word "slut" on my wrist, just above the faded cuts on my arm. Then "whore" on my other wrist. He then pulled my shirt up and wrote "bitch" across my stomach, then punched it harder than the last time.

I screamed out in pain and he grabbed my hair, slamming my head against the locker. My head began to spin as my vision multiplied. I just wanted to die.

He laughed and kicked me in the stomach one more time, grabbing my hair and pulling me to my feet. He opened a locker behind me and shoved me in violently, my arm getting caught on the way and ripping the sleeve to my hoodie. I screamed again as I felt the metal piece rip open the skin on my elbow, then whimpered at the impact of my body against the locker walls as he slammed the door shut.

He hit the locker door twice and began walking away, "Have fun cutting class, slut."

I stared forward into the darkness as my breathing began to speed up. It hurt to breathe, but I couldn't help it. I felt like I was being strangled, tears streamed down my face as an invisible hand gripped at my throat violently, my breathing turning rapid, panicked whimpers beginning to mix in with the gasps for air.

Finally registering what had just happened to me, I struggled to get my hands to the door, I could barely move my arms, but I eventually got my hands close enough to hit the door. My panic attack grew worse as I desperately hit the door.

After I realized nobody was going to be in the halls until class ended, I leaned my head against the wall to keep myself from sobbing. I couldn't breathe, but I tried my best to calm down. My mind drifted to Tristan.

Oh god...what if I'm stuck in this hell all night?! I won't be able to see him until tomorrow...or even longer. And Dylan.....Oh fuck, Dylan...

Anxiety rose up in my chest and I started banging on the doors again. I couldn't stay in here all day. I just couldn't. The walls began to close in on me as I heard the loud ring if the school bell.