'Till Death Do We Part

Secret Hideaway

Fallen leaves crunch under our eager feet as the group makes its way towards the expansive cluster of oak trees. We keep our hoods up and our heads down, as to not take the chance of being recognized if any authority figures happen to glance our way. After a few minutes of walking and pointless chatter amongst the 5 of us, we reach our secret hideaway, which is merely a make shift fort constructed by a few  slabs of wood and rusty screws, forming a cube shape with a dusty sheet over an opening just big enough to squeeze in through. As you can imagine, this fort doesn't hold up too well under rainfall, but luckily the damage is reduced because of a few trees all around it, providing a bit of shelter with their branches outstretched above the roof. Ron lifts up the sheet, which was once white but after months of exposure, it has turned yellow with some unexplained brown stains. Colby is the first to enter, followed by Zack, then Jade, and lastly me. Ron seizes me by my waist before closing the sheet behind him as he walks in with me.

"Beer anyone?" Colby smirks as he opens the mini fridge and pulls out a 6 pack of beer, and I roll my eyes passively as Zack and Ron cheer.
"What kinda question is that?" Jade says, swiping a bottle out of Colby's hands, popping it open, and chugging it in a matter of seconds.
Colby laughs and the rest of the group besides me applauds her. Ron elbows me in the ribs, causing me to recoil slightly. "What's up with you, Em?Try to have a little fun. Here, drink up." Ron pushes a beer into my hands and brings it up to my lips. I sigh and think, what have I got to lose by getting drunk at 9 in the fucking morning?Not much. I down the bottle in a few minutes, then reach for another one. Ron smiles at me, likes he's proud for either getting me drunk, or me "having fun"; probably both, I figure. Eventually, the fridge is empty and bottles are sprawled out across the floor, and so are we. Jade passed out in Colby's arms, which I found a bit odd, considering the previous day she verbalized her utter disgust for that "Nasty Pig", in her words. I assumed the alcohol had rid her of her preconceptions, and maybe she still felt lonely being single.

Whatever the case was, I had no time to ponder it, as Ron suddenly climbs on top of me and guides my lips to his, placing his fingers gently along my jawline. They move down to my neck, grazing my protruding collar bones, and then he stops. "I don't like to feel your bones," He mutters against my cheek. I say nothing, I'm frozen with time as Ron holds my hands in place and continues, "You're not beautiful to me if you're just skin and bones. You know I can get any other girl I want," My eyes sting with tears, and I struggle to choke them back. "I-I'm sorry," I stammer, not knowing what else to do. The pressure around my wrists intensifies, signaling his sudden spike in anger, and I wish I wouldn't have spoken. I expect another threat, insult, or even physical pain, but noting of the sort comes. Ron only rolls over next to me and lights a cigarette, placing it in his mouth and taking a huge puff of smoke. I quietly sigh in relief. With tiredness rapidly overcoming me, I close my eyes and drift off.