Highway To Hell (BoyxBoy Frerard)

A Temporary Problem

Song-Face Down-The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Dillon threw his body ontop of mine and released a frightening rage upon me that expressed itself in the form of punches.

The anger that filled his actions was like gasoline to a flame in his eyes. I felt his fist land on the side of my lower ribs earning Dillon a satisfactory squeak from my lungs.

"I want you to scream so loud you could be heard from Pluto. Then I'll stop." Dillon muttered through gritted teeth.

Knowing Dillon, he'd never let up till he felt like quitting. Sometimes that took minutes, sometimes it took hours. Screaming wasn't worth my breath, or giving him the satisfaction of hearing me.

His fist landed upon my cheek and I whispered at the impact of his strong hands. His knuckles felt like spoons being dug into my skin trying to reach for something beneath my skin's surface.

I felt my teeth clench unknowingly around a piece of flesh in my mouth as he punched the side of my face. My teeth tore straight through leaving a piece of my own flesh in my mouth. I then felt the open wound in my cheek begin to fill my mouth with blood.

I spat the piece of flesh out of my mouth into an unknown corner of the room. The blood from the wound, however filled my mouth with it's metal flavor.

Sometimes, I found it better to not fight Dillon. I often took the tactics of a possum and began to play dead.

I let my body go limp and just began to allow the horror around me take place. Dillon continued to let his blows rain upon my body.

The corner of my mouth was open just a small bit. The blood that had been stored in my mouth was free to trickle down my cheeks in droplets of red hatred.

Just because my body had gone limp, didn't mean that my mind had done the same.

I counted the blows at the beginning. By the end, I'd given up because the numbers were as numerous as the stars in the night sky.

Dillon's breathing had become heavy and his face had gone cherry red from how hard he was trying.

"I'm not stopping until your bones have broken!" he screamed at me.

I whispered at just the idea of my bones crunching into a powder underneath his fists. I couldn't fathom the pain that would come from his powerful hands crushing them down.

Before I could stop myself, my voice took over my hesitant body. "No, no no no,  please! Anything please!" my voice begged through shaking tones.

"Anything?" Dillon stopped and gave me a cunning smile from ear to ear.

Dillon slowly reached into the nightstand drawer beside the bed and dug around without removing his eyes from my horrified stare.

His fingers brought out a closed, red pocket knife. His smile still spread across his lips as he flicked the blade out.

No, please, oh God no! My mind begged, but my words didn't seem to travel through my mouth.

Dillon grabbed the collar of my favorite black T-shirt and yanked down as hard as he could. A loud rip emanated from the pull resulting in my shirt ripping all the way from my collar to bottom seam.

My pale white chest was exposed to Dillon. Scars covered it rising and falling like mountains and valleys over a plain. Some of my scars were pale white, others a pink, some even a purple.

Dillon slowly brought the knife blade to my chest. I could've gotten away, but then I'd only pay for further consequences.

He pressed the knife down far into the bottom of my rib. I shut my eyes so tight I saw stars through the darkness as I waited for the shocking pain.