9: Chaos

60 2 4

by Mint24

by Mint24

When Blake walked into his small, weary house, there was nothing but silence.

"SARAH?" He called. "....Sarah?"

There was no reply. He called Carol's market to see if she was at work. She wasn't. He called the school to see if she stayed after. She didn't. So he wasn't surprised when he checked her bedroom and she wasn't there.

In her bedroom, Blake passed the mirror. He hardly recognized the person who was looking back at him. His careful features were lost in thick mud, he was covered in the stuff. Blake's clothing clung stiffly to his body. His hair was completely caked with the dark goo. Blake decided to start with a shower.

After he made himself look somewhat presentable, he made himself a small dinner, not realizing how hungry he really was. While cleaning up, he tried to decide what to do next. Blake had already called her phone 9 times, leaving a frantic message after everytime she didn't answer. It wasn't until after those calls that he realized how she must have felt.

Then he took matters completely into his own hands. He grabbed a fresh sweatshirt, and put a think raincoat on over it. This time he was smart to put on two hoods. Then he put on 3 pairs of socks, and an old pair of bulky work boots. In his car, he grabbed 2 flashlights, not knowing how much juice each had left. Rushing when he backed out of the driveway, he didn't even notice the fresh set of footprints in the mud, leading to the woods.

Sarah had been walking along, more frightened with every fragile step she took, acutely aware of how deep she was venturing, when she heard the first twig snap. She told herself it was a squirrel, but in her heart she knew it wasn't.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

Louder this time, faster this time. Pure terror coursed through her mind. She ran. But she was clumsy, and tripped. Hands, big hands. Rough. They grabbed her, and she sceamed, but only briefly. Because the hands covered her mouth too. Suddenly, everything went black.

The last place Blake could think of was the graveyard. Their mother's gravestone. He reached the spot and screamed for her, for Sarah. She wasn't there. He crumpled to his knees, crying out in frustration. Then came the tears--no, the sobs. The kind that stop you from breathing. The kind that don't stop.

When he couldn't cry anymore, he stood up. After beginning to walk away, he turned back, quick. His fist connected with stone, and blood streamed from the raged cuts on his fist.

And along came the sobs, yet again.

When Sarah finally opened her eyes, she wished she hadn't. She was in a dark room, but she didn't know who's it was or where it was. To her surprise, she was in a bed. It was comfortable, and she almost went back into a deep sleep, until realizing she couldn't. Frantically she jumped out of bed and felt along the wall until she felt a knob. She twisted. It was locked. Another surprise came next, when a chill washed over her. Another realization. She was dressed in nothing but a thin, oversized T-shirt, and she was terrified for her life.

Savannah's house was a shit show, and she was the main performance. After 2 hours of screaming with her mother, arguing with the cops, and being sent to her room without dinner, she climbed swiftly out the window and ran to her second calming spot.

The graveyard where her dad was buried.

What a nice dream. Blake's mind mused. In this dream, he was with Savannah, all cuddled up on the couch. Sarah was in her bedroom, she was safe. This dream was interrupted by a melodic but worried voice.

"Blake?"

Where are my clothes! Where am I? Am I going to die....Oh god am I going to die..

The dreadful thoughts came again. It was all she could do to keep breathing. Then the doorknob turned and an intimidating boy walked in. He looked about her age, but Sarah wasn't sure. He was dressed in nothing but a flimsy pair of boxers. Dark har, piercings. Soft face, shadowed by his dark hair. Bright blue eyes.

Those are the first and most obvious things she noticed. The next things she noticed were; he walked stiffly, and slowly. He seemed almost frightened by her presence. And he looked like he was about to cry.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I don't want to, but he'll kill us for sure if I don't I'm sorry.."

"What? Who? What's going on!"

The boy got closer. Slowly he climbed on the bed. Sarah inched as far away as she could, but it wasn't nearly far enough. He pulled on her legs, spreading them apart, and ran his hand up and down her thigh. She winced.

"I'm so, so sorry." He whispered. Sarah noticed tears in his eyes.

And then before she could scream, he placed his shaking hand over her mouth, and he raped her.