ʜ ᴏ ʟ ʏ

36.

Warning: Mentions of rape

Growing accustomed to the boy's greeting would have to be something she got used to, for the contact given was unexpected. The boy tended to Marcy first, pulling her into a rough hold after greeting her with the slap of hands with a sheepish grin, then it was her, the girl being pulled into a hug of her own. He smelled like weed more than anything, but he spoke before she could address it. "Nice to see you ladies, let's get a move on." He gestured his hand towards a beat up minivan perched in the driveway of his home. Marceline arched a brow. "Dude, the walk to Dana's house is like, less than five minutes." He shrugged off her regard and descended down the stained steps of the porch. "I know. Sometimes it gets dangerous at Howard parties, always some type of fights or gunshots, always something to fuck up the mood. If we need a way to escape safely, the cars our best answer, don't wanna get caught in any bullshit tonight." Bonnibel didn't take that in to thought. Not like she had been at any Howard parties before (or any parties outside of Marceline's), but Flambo did prove a fair point. She hoped fleeing away from the party wouldn't be a event held tonight, rather a fun time letting lose with Marceline. Marcy seemed to have the same idea, entering the back of the car and eagerly patting the worn out seat next to her. She slipped in next to her, a genuine smile fiddling her mouth when lips made contact with her cheek. Flambo eyed them from the rearview, the fake sounds of throw up spouting from his mouth followed by a few mumbles about the duo before the key was placed in the ignition. It took a few roars of the engine and excessive tugs of the key for the car to come to life but once so they were down the road to the house of events. As the car eased down the moonlit street towards the party with the time consuming minutes, a noticeable amount of traffic formed the closer they got. It seemed like they weren't the only one's eager for a chance of relif. It shouldn't of been a problem, cars should've been progressing, but when the car sat still in place for more than five minutes, Flambo became irritated. "Only would everybody else on Howard street have the same idea to go party tonight." Annoyance seeped through his tone. Marceline sat up, unwinding her arm from around Bonnibel's body and hanging it loosely off Flambo's seat. "It's cool man, we'll hang back and wait." The boy sighed, running a bandaged hand through his shaggy red hair. "Nah, don't wait back on me, you two go ahead and go, I'll catch up after I find a park." Marcy pulled back, asking for reassurance which she received with a nod before slouching towards their exit, pulling open the door and assisting Bonnie with stepping out. Though the house was a small distance away from them, she could still catch the entcinging sights from across the street. A real party it was. Cars swarmed the driveway and the surrounding street corners, lights from the inside shined all down the block and practically blinded all viewer's, and the music was loud enough to hear a mile away, not to mention the encouraging scream of a group watching a teen chug down a mix of alcohol and juice. These were exactly the places her uncle warned her to rid from her life. In his mindset, parties polluted teenage behavior and their thought process with sin, eventually taking over their better judgement and leading down a path of self destruction. Of course, she thought differently. Sure, what they were doing was "wrong" in some person's book, but in the end, they all received the joy they craved from the start. The feeling of relief, all the worlds anguish sliding off your shoulders for a bit, the desire to forget what happens all around you, and freeing the worries that held her captive by the side of Marceline was exactly that. "Your doing it again." Spoke Marceline, studying her face closely. She didn't need to address her to know what she was speaking on. Marceline was very observant (more than her actually), to know when something didn't settle right with her, when something plagued her mind with endless curiosity. She knew her well, too well. "Sorry." She murmured, grasping the inside of her palm softly. Marceline slouched her arm off her shoulder, growing weary when her girlfriend apologized, knowing that it was not needed. "Don't apologize, just have a good time with me, yeah?" Her lips toyed a smile, agreeing to her request and allowing her girlfriend to lead her into the home. The recklessness outside had nothing on the chaos that wreaked havoc on the inside. The living room was engulfed with a large amount of thrashing teens, moving along with the upbeat tempo of the song under the ruby red lighting, pushed in the corner was a group presumably snorting up white powder with a rolled up dollar bill while the others took anything passed their way, and not to mention the dirty grinding taking place on the dance floor. Marceline took it all in with different eyes, beaming at the scene like a toddler to candy. This was the rapture that the world had to offer them, a gift sent from the heavens above. This was exactly what she needed. Bonnibel held her hand tigheter, afraid to lose her to the "welcoming" mingle on the dance floor. "Lets grab a drink real quick." She yelled over the blaring music, Marceline looking her way. A pout settled her face upon leaving but one mention of alcohol she was leading Bonnie to the kitchen herself. They shurgged through the open spaces of the crowd and made it to the kitchen in one piece. Not only did the kitchen offer free consumption of liqour, but what Bonnibel assumed to be a dealer, his beady eyes rattling the kitchen as he searched for his next customer. Marcy was quick to swipe a beer from the counter, popping back the top and sipping on the warm brew. From behind the cover of the upwards beer bottle on her lips, Bonnibel could sense what Marceline was about to do, her body language spoke it all. Her body faced Bonnibel, yes, but her head was twisted towards the direction of the shady boy, who yet again scratched at his neck as if he consumed his own product already. "Marcy, please don't." Marcy turned her way, catching the jist of her plead. Her eyes switched inbetween them both. "Bonnie, it'll be fun I promise. Please?" Bonnibel already parted her mouth, ready to implore her once more, but Marcy beat her to it. "Bonnibel, your promised you would let loose tonight, you promised." So much could go wrong, she could get herself hurt, I wont be their to protect her, I- "Fine." She muttered, admittedly not wanting to let her guard down but for the sake of her promise, allowing her to make the purchase, giving her a thankful peck to the check and retreating to the boy in the corner. She consumed her beer faintly, watching Marceline from the island countertop as she retrieved a few dollar bills from her pocket and spoke unreadable words to the teen, the boy gaining the profit and handing her back a small baggie. With a thanks, Marceline departed from the boy and back to Bonnibel, collecting the two pills in the zip lock bag and holding one out to Bonnibel. She looked at it, lonesome and desolate in the palm of her hand. Every moving thought in her body screamed no, but for the sake of relief, she took it anyway, throwing back her head and dropping the pill in, sending it down her throat in a stream of beer from the bottle. "That's my girl." Marceline smiled broadly at her side, repeating Bonnibel's actions but instead devouring all the contents of the now empty bottle. When her head fell back to place, a grin of mischief doused her beer soaked lips. "Lets party."
                  
It felt like every fear, every worry, every thing that ever weighed her down had slipped free from her body, now lost with her dense state. A tingling sensation had overcome her completely, enhancing her in a eternal loop of blithe in her drugged state. She laughed softly, pressing herself against Marceline as they danced to the rythm produced on the speaker. Chest to chest, waist to waist, and lips to lips. She could do that. Here, no one knew them, or were some sort of holy christian to banish them away (not that she knew of), not like she cared anyway, to drunk and high to even correlate. She held Marcy's face in her hands, ravaging her lips with her own, leaving them both sweaty messes. Sloppily tracing her lips away from her lovers and to her neck, she kissed there, listening as Marceline groaned softly under the music. After a bit of the intimate tug, Bonnie pulled back, watching Marceline with a impish grin as she swatted a pelet of sweat from her forehead with weary in her pant. Bonnibel was to out of it catch exactly what Marceline said, but she was sure she saw the word bathroom roll off her lips before she was off with a final kiss, stumbling past the party goers towards where ever she was going. Bonnibel didn't know much in the state she was in, her vision woozy and blurred and her ears ringing from the loud music. On the brink of passing out from the heat and all the sound and lights that caved down on her, she knew she needed a breather. Floundering through the endless mounds of bodies (muttering a few apologies to the ones that complained), Bonnibel successfully manuvered her way to the closest door in her vision, clumsily yanking open the handle and being greeted with the outside. The backyard was empty, no fence securing the expanse of desert like land, dark, abandoned, all with the exception of a person submerged in the shadows. She wouldn't of caught on to the presence if it weren't for the flicker and flash of a lighter light, and then smoke. The person seemed to notice her before she could say anything, the man himself sauntering from the shelter of the dark, Ash. "Holy shit, if it isn't little miss princess. Didn't expect to catch you here." The same could be said for her. Even in her state of high, she knew something was wrong the moment he revealed himself. She Didn't expect to find Ash all the way down on Howard street, let alone being outside unattended with him. He wiped a hand over his red tinted eyes, taking a final drag of the cigarette perched on his cracked lips and letting it fall to the ground, twisting it repeatedly under his tattered boots. She watched him creep closer. "Marceline here with you?" She nodded eageraly, not to fast to upset the migrane that would soon grow as a effect of the liqour. She felt she was nodding more for herself, trying to reassure herself that Marceline would be out to find her any moment now. "She'll be out here any minute." Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong. She swallowed her regret, Ash taking his final stride to her. "A minute is all I need." She didn't have time to react, no time to escape the hands that lurched her way. Ash grabbed her, her dazed attempt to escape halting as he firmly secured his hands around her waist. "Get the fuck off me!" She screamed, Ash silencing her with a grimy hand over her mouth. Even if she wasn't drunk or high, the possibility of escaping the stronger boys hold was low. He turned her back to his front, One hand holding her mouth and the other gripping her waist tightly while he pressed himself against her. Screaming against his palm was no use, even if she could it would only be muffled under the blaring house music. Tears slithered from her squinted eyes as he dared to loosen the skirt from her waist, letting it drop to the floor. "Quit squirming, your only making this harder on yourself." She couldn't scream, beg for mercy and cry for help, no, she couldn't. She could only go stiff with sobs as the sound of his belt coming lose following the zipper filled her ears.

Bonnibel was oddly quiet the rest of the ride home. She was... Distant, to say the least, and she was sure Flambo noticed too. Marcy couldn't help but notice the after affect of the drugs and liqour hit her differently that it did herself. A major migrane and throw up came with hers but Bonnibel's was odd. She was shaking, even under the warm temperature outside, her eyes were bloodshot with pink and silence consumed her whole. Maybe it was because this was her first time taking a pill? Maybe so but Marceline wouldn't judge. She forked over her jacket, which Bonnibel wrapped tightly in, but was denied any response to physical affection. No smile lingered after a hug or a peck on the cheek, just limp in the seat. She let her be, the rest of the ride back home vaugley silent.