FREE-MAN

- Chapter Two -

"Get up." I'm on the ground, and as I gasp for air, I feel Kurtis' boot collide with my chest. The small wisps of air that were in my lungs escape before I'm satisfied. I struggle to push myself up.

"You piece of shit, thinking you're all high and mighty." I wince as he pulls me up and pins me against the wall with his arms. I avoid eye contact, and gag from the smell of cheap whiskey on his breath.

"You think you the shit?" He gets close to my face, and I shake my head. "What? I didn't hear you."

"N-no."

"No, what?"

"No, sir." I barely choke out. Kurtis puts a hand around my throat.

"Then don't act like it around my friends." he says, squeezing slightly. He's not satisfied though. "Look at me!" My body starts to tremble. He's past his usual drunkenness, and I just fallen into unknown territory. When I look at him, finally making the dreaded eye contact, I regret it immediately.

SMACK!!!!

Tears spring to my eyes, but don't spill over. He straightens me out against the wall, and brings his mouth to my ear.

"Look what you make me do." He pulls my mouth to his, and I'm choking again. When he pulls away is when I feel it: it's not much, but it grows against my leg.

I inwardly beg any god who will listen for this not to happen. Not tonight, he was too drunk. I knew better than to ask for it never to happen, it was too much to ask, but maybe, just maybe, if I prayed hard enough, he would just get bored.

He would leave.

Just as Kurtis' hands slide down to the edge of my pants, Jackson bursts through the door of my room. Kurtis whips around and I look towards the floor.

"What?" Kurtis snaps.

"There's something going on, they got bullets." at this, Kurtis becomes the responsible drunken host of his drunken friends, and they both disappear. I'm about to move when Kurtis returns, and hisses:

"Clean this up, and don't think you're welcome back downstairs, either."

As if I would want to.