Dreamstate

8-FLASHBACK

"She's my new toy," a shiver runs down my spine at his words. I can't understand if its a good shiver or not. Either way, he hasn't told them who I am and the three big kids behind me doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon, so I'll have to take my chance and trust him a little more.

"New toy, huh?" His hold on me tightens making my body come impossibly closer to his. Its hard and rough, and the pressure causes me to whimper a little. The only time I've come this close to a male is when my dad would give me hugs. He never allowed any boys to get near me, ever, not even in elementary. Now that he's gone, I guess I have to start scaring them off myself. But first, I have to scare off the seniors.

"Who is it this time? Is she new? I never known you to use the new ones." the dirty blonde asks. I feel an unfamiliar hand on my shoulder and a jerk to turn me around. I grasp my saviors shirt tighter.

I don't want to get hurt. I don't want to get broken. I'm already broken. I'm already hurt. I don't need anymore. I didn't ask for any of this.

I start crying so hard it hurts, my heart hurts, my head hurts. Everything seems to hurt. I didn't ask for my parents to die in a car crash, or to have none of my family members take me in, to be put up for adoption, to be set up for a future I don't want. I didn't ask to go to this mean school. I just want to go home. I want to see my mom again. I want her to tell me that this is all just a dream. She always said how sometimes I have really severe dreams where I start to act out in my sleep. I want this to be that. I want to see her again.

I want to wake up and have my dad tell me to never dream about boys again because he's so protective even when I was at such a small age where boys were more like an odd creature than something I want to get closer to. I want him to get angry at me. I want mom to get angry at me. I want them to yell, scream, shout, like they would do when we're playing family games, or when dad takes a wrong turn after mom tells him to go the correct way.

I want my home. I want the dysfunctionally fitting home made just for me. I want the normalcy I was raided in. My family. My life.

"What the hell man? Get your fucking hands off her! Who the hell are you to touch what's mine?! You better back off Jake or I swear on the very oath we pledged to that I will rip out everything about you and make you suffer for the rest of your life."

Was that the strange boy I was holding? The one called McCoy?

"Jesus, McCoy. What's your deal?"

"Yeah, C. You never use to be like that with your toys. What's this one to you?" the girl asks.

"You guys ask too many questions for players," I can feel him shaking with rage. I remember when my dad looked so angry at a man who hit on mom in a store right in front of him, I remember him shaking so hard that mom had to pull him away and give him many hugs and kisses and reassuring words.

I don't want to speak, in fear they will recognize my voice but maybe I could calm down my savior another way. So still sniffling from the rush of heartache that came over me, I managed to pull my arms away from the back of his shirt to his front, creating space in between us with my hands and with a breath of a touch, I gently rubbed my hands on his chest. Just like I saw mom did with dad.

His rumbling stops immediately.

I don't remember what happened after that because after that it seems to be just blank. Maybe its a relapse from my break down but I do remember somehow he made the guys move. And I remember how when they left, he pulled me to the side of the building, and we sat in silence for the longest time.