Before
“Jenny!” Chris calls. I turn slightly, not bothering to reveal my whole self to him. I stare out of the corner of my eye at him and his gang as they walk over. Damn. I was hoping to make it home without seeing him or his Crew.
“What is it Chris? I have to get home.” I say, trying to make a quick escape, but no such luck. Chris grins at me, showing his missing front teeth. He claims that they were knocked out in fight that he won, but I have my doubts. Chris may be big, but he has the IQ of a 6-year-old.
As Chris wobbles over here, I realize he’s drunk. Great. A drunk Chris is the worst Chris. He can be an ass most of the time, but when he’s tipsy, he can be ugly.
Chris finally makes it to me. Slinging an arm over me he says, “Hey, babe,” his breath smelling like beer. “Having a party at my house tonight. Interested? I can make it a night to remember,” he continues, smiling in an obnoxious way.
I break away from his arm and step a few feet away, a safe distance. “Maybe,” I say, knowing very well what he would do if I said no. “It’ll be hard to get out of the house tonight, with my mom being so sick.” I shrug, as if it’s my parent’s fault. I turn, already walking away, hoping Chris will leave it at that.
When I’m about 15 feet away, Chris yells out a swear word after me. I don’t bother turning, but speed up. I know this call. He’s commanding his Crew to chase me down. I can hear their footsteps, closing in on me.
I break out into a run, knowing that I have no chance of making it home. Chris’s Crew consume tons of steroids, making them monsters. They’ll catch me in minutes unless I figure out a plan. I run about a block when I figure out my way to escape.
I turn down an ally way, planning to take my escape route that I have hidden in the back. I sprint to the chain fence in the back of the ally way and look for the hole that I have cut. Unfortunately, some idiot has put their plasma screen TV in front of the hole, blocking all escape. Finally willing to admit to fear, I turn back to entre way of the ally where Chris and his Crew have stopped.
“Well, well, well,” Chris says in a mocking tone. He curves his mouth down in fake sadness. “Little Jenny here and no place to go. Well we can’t have that, can we?” Chris motions with his fingers, making two of his enormous bodyguards walk up to me. One of the goons picks me up from the waist, not showing any sign of weakness.
I hit and kick at him, trying to get him to put me down. The goon holds strong, tightening around my waist. I hear a scream, and realize a minute later that it came from me. I continue to scratch and kick, but know it’s hopeless. I struggle, as fear washes over me at the thought of being rapped
.
The goon drops me at Chris’s feet. He lays me sprawled out on the ground as I struggle to sit up. Nodding approvingly at his goon, Chris holds me down with his foot. He leans down and starts to unbutton my shirt, and another scream escapes me. I know no one will come to help. These things happen often in my neighborhood. I wiggle under his foot, trying to break free. Chris holds me down harder on my stomach, enough to make my gasp in pain.
Chris pulls off my shirt revealing my bra. He smiles like a murderer and starts to unbutton my shorts. I slap at him, trying to break free, but some of his Crew members hold my arms and legs down, rendering them useless. I can feel my energy draining, my struggling pointless. I lean my head back on the pavement and close my eyes, giving up. With his crew holding my arms and legs, and Chris holding my stomach, I can’t move any part of my body other then my head.
YOU ARE READING
Destined
Teen FictionA BETTER Twilight series about a common girl against a villiage of Vilna in order to save her boyfriend and her future