Player

Sixteen - Broken

(edited)

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From what I can make out in the spinning blurs around me, Jackson is carrying me up a flight of steps. A few of his friends from the living room, the ones with the inside joke, are standing at the very top, laughing to themselves. They all look predatorily at me, licking their lips and smirking. I count four of them until my vision goes spotty again and I can't make out anything.

I want to go home.

"Open the hatch," Jackson orders one of the guys. I see a bright white board fall from the ceiling and a silver ladder drop to the floor. Jackson readjusts me in his arms and climbs up and into the attic.

The room has obviously been fixed up as if this was planned. A twin size mattress is on the floor and it's made with a few layers of blankets. Jackson drops me harshly onto the bed and I crumple.

I try to move my legs, but I'm motionless. I don't know why, but I'm a prisoner in my own body, forced to watch.

"Wait for the text," Jackson informs the guys that also entered the attic. The last one pulled the ladder back up and closed the hatch, locking it behind him.. "Then we can do whatever we want."

I've seen movies in health class about being drugged, but I never thought that it would happen to me. I live in a small town full of mostly old people. My school only holds about five hundred students and most of them are losers that wouldn't ever go to a party in their whole life. Yet today I chose to go to this, for Jake. He asked me to this Halloween party and now I've been kidnapped and drugged.

I have no idea how they got it into my system, or what exactly it is that I'm on, but I know that it can't lead to anything good.

Jackson sits next to me on the mattress, running his hand up my leg and resting on my inner thigh.

"No..." I just barely mutter. I try to get away, but I still can't move. How long will this last?

Just then, one of the boys takes his iPhone out of his pocket and points it at me.

"Pics or it didn't happen." He chuckles. The other guys do the same, bringing out their phones and snapping quick photos of my lying of the bed, Jackson's hand on my leg.

"Don't post any of that shit until tomorrow, got it?" Jackson snaps. The guys nod and laugh among each other. One of them takes a long swig of his beer, leaning his head back to get the last few drops.

Then it hit me. Jackson gave me my first drink, a Heineken. He could've easily dropped a tablet into the drink and I would've never known.

I want to kick and scream and run for the hills, but my body still will not budge an inch. I am stuck here. I am defenseless against whatever these people are going to do to me.

I don't even understand why they targeted me. There are plenty of perfectly willing single girls on the dance floor, just begging for someone to screw. So why me? What did I do that so horrifically bad that Jackson decided to roofie me and drag me into the attic?

All I've done for the past few months is keep to myself, not worrying about anybody else. I was too caught up with Jake and Ana to cause any beef with someone. Except for Giselle maybe, but I don't think that she'd go as far as asking someone to drug me and have their way.

Except that's exactly what she would do because she is a psychopath! Our argument in Geometry class must've pushed her over the edge. But still, you don't do this to somebody as payback. You light a paper bag full of dog poop on my front porch, or you punch me in the face in the school hallway.