Reece's Haven

11

"Glass shards and broken hearts. His love for alcohol ruined them..."
– Nautica

❀❀❀

~ D O R O T H Y ~

November 1997

This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening.

"Mhm... Mmm!!! Mhmhmhm MHMHMHMMMM!"

Click!

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no!

He just locked the door.

Is he out of his frickin' mind?!

I admit, Reece Walker is a lot of things, but I would never expect him to do anything that I am suspecting right now.

"MHMMM!! MMMMH!"

Feeling my heart pound against my chest, I am pressed against the door by his body. While I am scared out of my frickin' mind, Reece is staring at me intensely. His piercing eyes are all that I can see. His face nears mine until the tip of his nose brushes against mine.

Oh please no.

"MHMMMM!"

"Shhhhhhhhhhh," he says.

The pungent smell of alcohol from his breath makes me wrinkle my nose.

"I won't let you go unless you shhhh," he continues, slurring.

He puts his index finger clumsily on his lips to demonstrate.

"Quiet, alright?"

I slowly nod my head, wary.

"Good girl," he says, chuckling.

He finally uncovers my mouth and I take this opportunity to bite his hand.

Hard.

"Ow! What the fuck?!" he yelps, stepping away from me.

He looks at his hand, inspecting the bite mark I just left. As I see hints of pinkish red, I mentally pat myself on the back. The dude deserves it. When I realise that we are in a bedroom, I turn around quickly and try to unlock the door. Unfortunately, before I can turn the knob, Reece suddenly scoops me up as if I weigh nothing, shocking the heck out of me. As he throws me over his right shoulder, I scream at the top of my lungs.

"LET ME GO, YOU CREEP!" I yell at him, thrashing. "I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T PUT ME DOWN I AM GOING TO MAKE ALL YOUR SOCKS WET! I WILL PUT RAISINS IN EVERY FOOD YOU EAT! I WILL FLOOD YOUR ROOM WITH MANNEQUINS!"

Reece freezes as I list his childhood pet peeves. Honestly, I don't know where all of this is coming from. It surprises me how I still remember all of this.

"I'm not a kid anymore," he suddenly says, locking the door and carrying me towards the bed.

I punch him on his back, but I feel like rather than bruising him, I am bruising my own hands. He then drops me on the bed and towers over me. I try to escape, but he pins my hands on the bed firmly with his own. He looks at my face and notices the wetness on my cheeks.

"You look scared," he whispers with a look of concern washing over his features.

"Just please let me go," I beg. "Please."

He shakes his head.

"Dorothy, I won't do anything to you. You know I won't do anything to you."