Ianthony- Is this right?

Part two

Anthony is taking you home. You don't live that far away, three streets, but Anthony was persistent. Your ass still hurts, the insides still burning. You're just glad that he fingered you first; The pain could of been much worse.

The tension in the car is almost unbearable. Anthony has a hangover, and he doesn't remember last night at all. You avoided him all morning, almost crying at the sight of him grinning at you so innocently, as if he wasn't the cause of your stress and paranoia and pain.

He must sense something is wrong because of he puts the radio on. The music is light and bubbly, and it helps you to sink further into depression. You want to cry, punch Anthony in the face and wash yourself thoroughly.

You cannot do that, though. Anthony wasn't himself last night; He was drunk. Besides, you almost enjoyed it. The thought of this makes you shiver. Does that mean you're a.whore? What happened was rape, and your body reacted to it positively.

"Ian?" A almost mockingly amused voice breaks your thought. It pulls you at of your mind and into the real world. Your ass still hurts, your heart still aches, your eyes are watery.

'don't cry' Is a constant command your head, and your brain is struggling to follow its orders. 'Reply' then hits your conscious mind. 'Anthony is talking, you must speak back'.

" Oh, uh, thanks for taking me home, dude," These words come so naturally, so quickly. You feel wrong, talking to him normally. Your senses are telling to scream at him, but your mind is keeping up a routine.

"No problem, man; I mean, what are friends for, right?" You glance at Anthony, and you feel as if you cannot breathe.

Anthony doesn't know what he has done.

Anthony feels no remourse.

Anthony isn't sorry.

Anthony is just a friend.

Anthony doesn't love you.

Anthony is straight.

'Anthony has harmed you, you must defend.' Your hand flies out. Your hand hits his face. Your hand recoils. You just hit Anthony, and now you can cry.

First you exit the car. Its quick and the door closes with a bang. Your mom isn't home; she went shopping. You manage to get your keys and unlock the door. The door closes behind you, and the silence is filled with your sobs.