MORTIS

The Bed

I'm Riot. I'm about what you'd expect from my name. My wardrobe has about the same color as a dark cave, and I'm fucked in the head. I'm getting fucked. No seriously. There's this guy, his name is Eli. We're not dating, but we're not fuck buddies either. I guess we're just comfortable with each other.

But damn, he knew a thing or two about sex. He was between my legs, and he was deep in me. I dug my nails into his back, and this made him go at it harder. I groaned out of surprise and pleasure, and pretty soon things came to a head, with nothing but the noises we made filling the room. This had gone on for 4 hours, and now we just held each other, covered in sweat and softly panting. He was a tall white boy, 18 like me, short and scruffy hair, and he was covered in bruises and scars.

He's always fighting. He fights to stick up for me, and gets his ass beaten constantly. Of course, high school kids don't have shit on Eli's dad. His dad, Marty, is an abusive alcoholic. There's been days where Eli had to come to my place so I could stitch him up.

I'm living on my own. I work at a grocery store where I have to put on a dumb uniform and pretend I'm friends with each and every single patron there. I met Eli at that store. He seemed cool enough, and we went to a party together. Ever since then, we've been a thing for 9 months now. He's the one person I'm close with. I give a fuck about him.

It was getting dark.

"Riot," Eli whispered, "I gotta go home".
"Why?" I asked. "That asshole doesn't care..."
"It'll be worse if I'm MIA." Eli said flatly.
I sighed. "Fine...just promise me you'll see me in the morning."
Eli kissed me on the lips and said "Always."

I watched as he got dressed, wrapping my naked body in the covers. As he left my room, we both made eye contact. I could see the fear in his eyes, but he's too damn tough to admit he's afraid. He put on his aviator mirror shades and left, opening the front door.

I crawled out of bed, towards the bathroom. Crawled being the right word because of how good Eli is. I'm never able to walk after he's done with me. I got to the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. My jet black hair was roughed up, and my pale skin was flushed pink from physical exertion.

Thank God I didn't wear mascara this time around. I took a long shower to rinse off the smell of sweat and bodily fluids. When I finished, I dried myself off and brushed my hair, then got to work getting dressed in tomorrow's outfit. Black is the only color I have for clothing, so you can imagine what I'm wearing. I put on some black combat boots, and then moved onto the next item.

I had a custom chest harness full of all kinds of knives. Balisongs, karambits, switchblades, you name it. I strapped the chest harness on, then grabbed a sheathed M9 bayonet. It was my dad's, from the war. I strapped the bayonet to the small of my back.

Why am I armed to the teeth? You'll find out soon enough. My world is not your world. It's brutal, short-lived, and lawless. The cops quit being cops a long time ago.

I got into my bed, rolled over, and went to sleep.