Hollow

fifteen.

UNEDITED - To be fixed at a later date.

*

Giggling as they went, Willow and Luca walked hand in hand. The previous day erased from her mind, she mindlessly smoked her pain away with every mind-numbing substance she could get her hands on while Luca did everything right alongside her. The guilt and pain had been washed clean even though the bruises marred her skin as an unpleasant reminder.

Her eyes were captured by the sign above the yellow door, THE SHOCKMEN'S always stood out to her. They entered without a knock, the strong smell of pot and sweat bombarding them as soon as they walked in. The faded orange wallpaper looked dated and the putrid green shag carpet was stained with burn marks and brown liquids. Willow's bones felt like jelly as she struggled to stay upright on the short distance to the living room.

"Hey man. What's with her?" Eric came out of nowhere as he took her other arm and helped Willow to the love seat.

"She's a lightweight."

"Cute," Eric said with a smirk.

"Don't touch me." She moaned in between giggles as they maneuvered her into a laying position.

Luca sat down beside her with her head in his lap.

"Is the deal still on?" The rasp in Eric's voice was the product of too many cigarettes.

The look on Luca's face must have told him all he needed to know and he didn't like what he saw.

"Hey, don't back out now, man. You owe me. She won't mind, will she?" Eric's eagerness was equal to a kid on Christmas morning.

Willow raised her hand to Luca's worn face, tracing the creases on his forehead with her fingertips. She tuned out the angry voices into silence, Luca's mouth moving like a 1920s silent film. She gently went over the roughness of his jawline dotted with unshaven stubble, her touch innocent and pure.

The depth of his black eyes scared her even in her medicated state; his red-rimmed eyes an abyss of emotion until she couldn't see him through the blur. Her eyelids started drooping and her vision got hazy. Her veins were full of lead as she felt too heavy to even turn her head or ask what the hell was happening. The world became black and she didn't have any energy to care.

The scene flickers. She can feel her body being moved, the warmth of rough palms on her waist. The heat from the clammy hands focuses on her thighs for a moment until she feels the fabric of her dress being pulled overhead. She can't do anything to stop it, the reality a sucker punch to her gut. A cold chill filters over her body, her naked skin exposed to the owner of such warm hands.

"Fuck, man. You are one lucky son of a bitch." She instantly recognized that voice. It was Eric.

What was he doing? What happened to Luca?

She wanted to scream and kick him until he let her go but that didn't happen. She couldn't move or open her eyes. Her tongue was weighted down and the only sound she could produce was soft whimpers. She felt helpless as he rolled her on to her stomach, the scratchy carpet pressed into her cheek.

"You want first dibs? She's your woman after all." Sick. That's all she could comprehend.

They were both sick. She felt sick. This was all a sick dream. Sick, sick, sick.

She'd wake up in her bed and none of this would be real. Luca wouldn't say, "Nah, man. You go first," like they were taking turns in a game.

Eric's hands wouldn't be anywhere near her body. She'd never know the way his weight felt while being pinned on top of her, or the pain as he entered her, dry and unprotected. This was all a dream. The flashes of light from a camera weren't real. Three minutes were up and it was over or so she hoped.