Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Nunie walks into the house alone—there's still people in the living room, but she steadfastly ignores them, heading straight to the kitchen—her intended destination. Kai, Notti, DD, and Ddot had walked around the side of the house to go see what was going on at the front. Nunie opens the fridge and sure enough, it's fully stocked to the brim with alcohol, juice, and soda. Nunie goes for her trusted can of cream soda when she feels someone else enter the kitchen after her, she glances over her shoulder, and it's the same light-skin guy from outside with a staring problem. Nunie turns back, shutting the fridge quickly and walks around the counter swiftly, opting to head outside as quickly as possible because the feeling of dread is back in her stomach, and she wants to run.
"Yo, you good?" He calls out to her as she quickly hurries to move past him, he's leaning on the counter watching her and Nunie has to pass him to get outside so she just nods hurriedly when he reaches out and grabs her hand and Nunie's mind spazzes out because suddenly, she's being dragged to a bathroom and locked inside. Everything happens so fast yet it feels like it happens in slow motion to Nunie because she can recount every detail of the environment down to the peeling yellow wallpaper on the bathroom wall.
Suddenly there are hands touching her body, caressing her boobs and lifting the hem of her dress. Suddenly, there's a mouth on hers—a tongue invading her mouth, and she feels nasty, but she's powerless because last time this happened, she was too cross-faded to do anything—now, she's just stunned, petrified in fear. There's spit dribbling out of her mouth, and she makes no move to reciprocate the kiss, but he keeps forcing it on her anyway. She wants to call out for someone—anyone—but her tongue is heavy like lead, and it weighs heavily in her mouth, so she's unable to speak. She wants to push him off of her, but her body refuses to cooperate, and somehow the room is spinning, and she can't fucking breathe.
Breathe, Nunie.
Finally, he relents, slipping his hand into her underwear, kissing on her neck. Tears spill out of her eyes, and he must mistake it for pleasure because he continues his ministrations and Nunie can't say anything—she can't even fucking move.
She's trapped inside her own mind, staring in shock—feeling what's happening to her, but she can't do anything about it. The hands move to push up her dress and Nunie can't—she just can't because everything's too much, and now she regrets going to this party and smoking three spliffs and taking the shots people kept offering her.
Except none of this is really happening—her mind just convinces her that it is, and she's trembling, shaking, tears running down her face, all because someone grabbed her wrist unprovoked.
"What the fuck?" She hears the guy exclaim in confusion, and he lets go of her wrist quickly. Nunie's hyperventilating now—struggling to breathe to intake air because despite the fact that no one is touching her now—the ghost of wandering fingers linger on her skin—branding her and using her for their own pleasure.
