Tainted Love ~Muke Clemmings~

Chapter 21

Michael stood next to the bed now, staring down at me. "You need something?" I ask him sarcastically.

"Forgive me." He begs.

I'm slightly surprised that he wasn't mad or anything that I was talking back to him. "I have a better idea," I say, pausing; "how about you go fuck yourself. I feel like that would be a more realistic option. Or better yet, go fuck your little buddy."

I like feeling powerful. I have the King, the most terrifying creature, the most powerful creature - begging for my forgiveness.

Instead of fighting he sighs, and stands back up. "Maybe I will." 

"Go! Follow your... Well... I would say heart but I'm not completely sure how that is." I shrug.

Then his eyes slowly become darker and his breathing becoming heavy. "I'll fuck my little buddy. But to do so, you have to turn over." He smirks.

"Are you hinting that I will allow you to do something sexual with me? If so, I'm not very much in the mood. But hey, do you mind giving me something to read? Sitting in here all the time in isolation is getting quite boring and slow." I explain to him, staring directly into his intimidating eyes. I was not going to let him control me.

"You have the knowledge to read?" He asks me.

"Yeah, it is nice. My family didn't like following the rules, and I was home-schooled by my Mum for the longest time. I even know how to write." I say the last part in a fake tone of excitement.

He paces around a bit, then once again sits on the bed. But, he decides to get slowly on top of me. I decide not to struggle, he would probably get more aggravated by my actions more than my words. He pins my arms down, his grip on my wrists tight and I wince slightly. "Stop being sarcastic." He snaps.

"Am I hurting your ego?" I question him with a fake pout and a condescending tone.

Then his body his pressed harshly into mine. Then I felt something press against my stomach through his jeans. I was nervous but I wasn't going to show it. His grip tightens more, and I hear a pop and massive pain from my left wrist. I scream out, trying to move it but his grip remains. They tighten more. But right wrist hurt but my left wrist was in complete agony. "Am I hurting your wrist?" He asks me in the same tone, with a pout on his face.

"Let go of me." I hiss, tears beginning to fall from my eyes.

He lets go.

"I'll be back momentarily." He informs me, and rushes out of the room. I begin to cry and hold onto my wrist. The pain was going up my arm.

As promised, he comes back. He was holding some gauze and a rope. I looked at him confused but I back up, and without thinking put both my arms down and place pressure on them to back up. I cry out when my left wrist slightly gives out and pain moves in quick waves.

He glares at me and glances at my wrist then to me.

I lift it up and he begins to wrap it in the beige material. It didn't look like normal gauze and when he ran out from wrapping it, just pressed it down and it stayed.

I was confused but it was a tight wrap and gave the wrist some support. "Open." He orders. He places a pill in my mouth and pours some water in my mouth. "Pain medication." He tells me.

I nod trying to think of something to say. But before I could my grabs my hurt wrist and right wrist violently and wraps his rope around them and ties them tightly together. He then ties the other end to one of the bed posts on the headboard. "The fuck you doing, you bipolar freak?" I ask him.

*Michael's Point of View*

"The fuck you doing, you bipolar freak?"

I didn't wanna do it necessarily. I was going to, then the comment threw me off guard.

--Flashback--

"Fucking freak." Eddie spat.

Eddie was my next door neighbor, violent kid. He was abused by his mother and molested by his father and then moved in with his grandmother next door when they were arrested for that. Because of his experiences, he became lonesome and violent.

We were outside in his backyard. Every Saturday at 2:00 I had to meet him there. Sometimes he would go inside for the beatings.

I was 14 and he was 17.

I was a depressed kid, honestly. "Fucking emo." He said to me, slapping me across the face.

I wore heavy eyeliner daily, rubber bracelets up both my arms. I wore band shirts and black skinny jeans. Everything I owned was, for the most part, black. My hair was dyed black as well, with a couple light blue streaks. I liked the color black, and it made me feel comfortable.

Even worse, underneath those bracelets, held some secrets I wouldn't speak of.

I stayed there, unmoving. Then my anger built up and I punched him in the jaw. My hand throbbed.

Then I realised what I had done and I fell apart mentally.

"I'm gonna fucking slice you." He told me, reaching into his pockets and switching up a pocket knife.

I start freaking out, backing away from him. "What the fuck are you doing, you goddamn bipolar freak?" He asked me. "Stay the fuck still."

I stumbled and landed on the grass, and he got on top of me and lifted my shirt. He slowly put the knife into my skin.

At the end of it all, I had 'bipolar freak' carved into my stomach. And I was sobbing.

--Flashback Over--

I could almost feel the pain on my abdomen from all those years ago. The scar of course healed, the cuts weren't that deep. But it was emotionally scarring. And the term angered me, and upset me.

I was shaking now, my anger once again leaving me. Why can't I stay mad at him? Why can't I kill him? Why can't I just take what I want from him? Why did I have to feel this way about him?

I got off of him and left the room in a hurry.

*Luke's Point of View*

My hands were still tied as he left the room. He had zoned out after my comment and then a few seconds later just left. I am not sure if it was my comment, or something else. I hope it was the comment, because now I know how to escape these kind of situations.

I pull on the rope, but it just tightens. The door reopens and Ashton walks in. He doesn't make eye contact with me, as he unties the rope and then walks away with it.

Then Calum comes in and throws a couple books on my bed. Before I could say anything, he leaves silently like the other two, and I hear the door lock. I sigh and look at the few books that was given to me. I have never heard of the authors, but one of the books was pretty lengthy. I looked in the cover of the book, and it was published in the 1950's. "Holy shit, man." I say to myself, flipping through the old pages as they gave off a fairly musty smell.

I wasn't sure how long I was going to be in here, so I decided to just start reading to pass the time.