black roses | The Lost Boys (1987)

x.

I awoke with a start, and suddenly, the hands that normally felt safe were simply binding me. I was trapped, and I didn't know how to escape. My breathing was coming back in heavy pants, as I tried to push myself out of their grips. Images from my dream replayed in my head like a movie I didn't want to see.

"Come on, Evangeline? You thought we loved you? You? What makes you special, huh? You're just a weak, little human girl. You won't even drink from the bottle, will you? Too goddamn weak. You're pathetic." The boys circled around me as Dwayne's voice rang out, his heavenly voice turned sour and taunting.

Dwayne stirred a bit, his eyes opening ever so slowly. They looked at me through hazy, sleep-driven eyes that didn't seem to understand my thrashing completely. "Princess, what are you doing?" I could barely make out the sounds like he was behind a wall of glass.

"Can't believe you actually fell for it. What do you have to offer? We could get someone like you off the street in a second," David spoke, his voice menacing, more terrifying than Dwayne's.

I let out another cry, trying to pull myself from him, but he simply pulled me back, trying to soothe me. I couldn't hear the words. I couldn't hear anything, my mind focused on the images in my head.

"Why do you think we brought Star? She could easily replace you, and it's not like anyone would notice you missing. You're a nobody. You said it yourself," Paul's voice taunted. He shook his head like he couldn't believe something I had said.

"Babe," a soft, groggy voice questioned, and I barely made out the feeling of Marko sitting up, his body still above mine as Paul rolled over, waking up slowly. "Babe?" His voice was concerned. I could hear it quivering lightly as I screamed for them to let me go.

"We didn't love you, Evangeline. Never have, never will. You're just a quick fuck," Marko's voice flicked out the final word teasingly, and I let tears fall down my face at the boys surrounding me. I broke down, unable to control my emotions. Everything was true. Every single thing.

"Oh, now the whore's crying," Paul questioned, leaning forward a bit, a wicked grin on his face.

I cried a pathetic cry, my chest heaving as David moved, holding down my arms at Dwayne's command. "She's going to hurt herself if she keep this up," Dwayne had stated, worry clear in his voice. I had barely registered my arms scratching at my skin before they pulled them away. I was a whore. I needed to get them off of me. I needed to get the touches off. It was too much.

"Pathetic," Dwayne stated simply.

I felt someone running their hand through my hair, trying to calm me as everyone held down one of my limbs. My breathing was labored, puffs of oxygen barely entering and leaving my body. Tears were running down my face like a river. "Let me go," I yelled, trying to pull away.

"We can't do that, doll." That was David's voice. "Come on, it's going to be okay. Calm down, breathe," he instructed, his voice oddly calming. I shouldn't listen to him. I shouldn't listen to any of them. They don't love me. They don't. They don't. They don't.

I tried following breathing techniques I used to have to use in high school when I had panic attacks. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to calm down, trying to block out the dream with the sound of their voices surrounding me, seemingly soft whispers of encouragement bleeding through my body.

I felt myself begin to calm down, my tears turning from waterfalls to soft rivers, barely there. Their grips loosened slowly, and soon, I was let go. I immediately back up toward the headboard, watching as their eyes filled with hurt and confusion.