Stevie Marie Kravitz is an 18 year old girl who has been quiet all her life. She spent her school life taking the blows from bullies and doing her work hiding inside the school library, graduating two years early. Now, fresh out of an Ivy League art...
Stevie I slam through the doors, tired and out of breath. I scan the thick crowds for any sign of my mother, and I quickly see a ponytail of auburn locks that matches my own. Shoving my way over to her, I immediately swat the bottle of tequila away from her and place my hands on my hips, listening to the satisfied sound of the bottle shattering. Eyes twin to my own turn and glare at me. "I----Was---DdriInking--that!" She struggles to let out and I glare fiercely back. "Where are they?" I snap, and she rolls her eyes. "Those brats? They're with Rick," she giggles. Dread fills me even more, if that's possible. Rick Umbridge is the Triplets' dead beat dad, who introduced himself rather rudely a few months ago. He'd came here from Britain, and lost his job due to his drinking, so now he's stuck in America, or what he calls "the sink hole to hell." He's a complete perv, and when he'd get super drunk he'd come into my room and eye-rape me. He's just gross, and I don't trust him with the kids. Plus, his last name is Umbridge. How can a Harry Potter fan like myself not hate the guy? I react without thinking: I slap my mother across the face. Though the club rings with sound, the trashy music bouncing off the dirty walls, it seems silent. For a few moments, all she can do is stare at me, arrantly stunned. Slowly, her face morphs into anger. "How dare you?" She howls, working herself up. Something in me snaps. Smirking, I fire back. "Oh, now you're sober." "You're just angry because their dad is alive," she growls, and I gasp, my hand flying out to slap her again. A scruffy hand captures my wrist before I can hit her, and starts to drag me away as my mother composes herself and orders another bottle of Tequila. Just as I realize the hand belongs to Rick, he opens the door to a bedroom and shoves me in harshly, and in greeted by my crying Clara and Ali, and a passed out Auggie, blood on the corner of his mouth. I scream, and crawl over to my baby brother, placing my fingers under his chin at the start of his throat. I sigh in relief. His pulse is strong. I'm ripped away from the kids and thrown onto a ratty bed. "You're for later," Rick growls, freezing my blood. Say what now? He charges at Clara, making her scream, and Alice gets in front of her older sister. Rick grabs her arms and starts to pull off her shirt, to which bile rises in my throat. "NO!" I shriek. "Get away from them!" I lunge at them claw at Ricks arms, trying to pry him away from my sisters. This only annoys him, and he swipes his arm and back hands me across the face, causing me to stumble and fall onto the bed once more. He stomps towards me. "Or maybe I'll start with you." My yes widen with fear. "No--NO PLEASE--" I'm cut off as he jumps on top of me, wrestling to get my shirt off. I shove at him and continue to plead, trying to move my legs that are pinned under him. He growls in frustration, taking a pocket knife out and slicing the tight fabric, slightly pricking my skin making me hiss. He starts to go for my bra. I freak out, punching him while trying to cross my arms over my chest, and he starts to go for my shorts. I cry harshly, knowing what will come. He's accomplished his goal, cutting away my shorts and fishnets, leaving me in my underwear. He's fed up with my struggling, I can tell, and he grabs my wrist and cuts a strip of the bed sheets, tying my hands to the headboard. He does the same to my ankles, sighing. "You could've made this easier. But now I'm going to have fun." Fear spreads through me as he slices through the rest of my clothing.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
Remington I storm into the club, completely furious, going through crowds like a mad man. Where the hell is she?! I continue to slam through crowds when I hear faint screaming, coming from the one of the doors in the back, the door closest to me. I immediately rush towards it, slamming it open. I freeze. Alice is trying to shove a man away from a crying Clara, and Auggie is knocked out. He's trying to rip the shirts off both little girls, but this isn't even the worst of it.
Stevie.
She's curled up on the mangy looking bed, naked and with a tear streaked face. slamming the door shut behind me, I lock it. I stomp up to the f*cker that touched Stevie and these kids, spinning him around and punching him in the face. Hard. One punch and he's out cold, the skull prints of my rings imprinted on his temple. I immediately calm down the girls. "It's okay, darlings, he's not going to hurt you. I'm here. It's all okay now," I soothe, rubbing their backs as they cling to me. "B-but Stevie," Ali sniffles into my shirt, heartbroken. "I-I saw what he did to her---she kept screaming---" I gently set them away from me as I rush to Stevie's side, unbuttoning my brown shirt. I'd left my jacket in the car. I sit the poor whimpering girl up and quickly slide the shirt up her arms and buttoning it, not looking at anything she wouldn't want me to. She cries through this, and it breaks my heart. My shirt reached her high thighs when she's sitting down, so I don't want to lift her yet. A slight buzzing suddenly fills the air. I find her phone across the room, cracked, and thankfully it's Drea calling. I answer. "Drea, I need extra clothes for Stevie, no she's not okay, I need you to call 911, and most importantly," I pause as Stevie whimpers and clings to me. "Send one of the girls to get the morning after pill. Just in case."
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