𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ; 𝘉𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘳

𝟐𝟑.

The Taylor Residence | Sun 3:49 PM
Isaiah Cordero-Taylor

It was dim inside the basement walls, the light not helping with the atmosphere of the brick room. The Puerto-Rican zipped his coat up to his neck before traveling down the creaky wooden steps, causing unwanted movement and an irritating noise. But he wasn't too worried. It would be dealt with soon.

Every step he took echoed across the tile, the chair with the teenage boy strapped to it squeaking. Creating a nails on chalk board sensation in his ears. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least take the bag off of his head.

Mike jerked his head to move the messy hair out of his face and glared angrily at Isaiah who hopped up on the dryer and met his gaze. His silence and his apathetic stare that slowly turned into a crooked grin creeped Mike out, making him feel more defenseless than he already did having duct tape over his mouth and his legs and arms tied down by rope. The way he did it was also highly uncomfortable, Mikes hands tied together and around the back to the chair. His feet in a similar position.

Then Isaiah finally spoke.

"You know, I was actually starting to like you. You were helping me out with my thing, giving me advice...but turns out your knowledge was bullshit and you had to go and fuck with the only other thing I care about."

He whipped out his pocket knife and intently watched how it gleamed in the light. Mike's muffled yelling filled the room, as well as him struggling to move out of his spot but it being too tight. He couldn't avoided this situation if he kept his feelings in checked, and now he's about to be tortured to death by a very deranged, very mentally unstable individual.

"There's no use screaming. No ones here but you and me. And no ones gonna come looking for you anytime soon so i'd save my energy if I were you."

It seemed like Mike was trying to talk to him, and he was genuinely interested in what he had to say, but as soon as he took the duct tape off, he was met with saliva all over his face. He it strapped back on and fought the urge to vomit, wiping his face a little and backing away.

"Looks like you need some more isolation."

He walked back upstairs and left Mike sobbing in the frigid dark. Giving his heart one last jump when he slammed the door shut.

Then

Mike sat under the gazebo in the school's vegetable garden, a place he wish he would've found sooner. He and Will where never able to talk on the bleachers or just be in each other's vicinity without someone staring their opinion on it, and here, he could've drawn the scenery and they could've had romantic lunches together. If only he wasn't gone.

The boy still didn't know how he felt about the move. Sure, Will's new house was nicer than the bungalow and he loved that he was in a better school, but they barely saw each other anymore. What if he had already replaced him with someone better? Someone Mike couldn't compete with?

Interrupting his insecure thoughts was Isaiah, plopping down $45 on the table. He'd forgotten all about the other day, Isaiah requesting his services and being vague on why. And just from the little Mike knew about him, there had to be some catch.

He sat down across from him, the sun hitting his eyes and making them glow. "So are you gonna help me or not?"

Mike wanted to say no but 1. he could use whatever money he could get, since he was working towards eventually getting his own place and 2. he was really curious to see what he could possibly need help with, figuring that his tactic of digging up dirt and blackmailing people was working just fine.