I was sprawled out on the desk, my eyes almost exposed, and my legs in an awkward position. He stood over me, pressing my hands against the desk and intwining his fingers with mine.
"W-what are you doing?" I managed to stutter, my legs closing almost immediately.
"Oh, it's a shame you didn't recognize me." Said Simmons, putting on a frown and lowering his eyelids. His nails dug into the desk, and his palms pressed against mine.
"What?" I questioned. My eyes were shut, I didn't need him seeing them now.
"How clueless you are," he muttered, and smirked. "Ivy." With a single movement, he whipped my hood off, exposing my platinum blonde hair hanging in front of my eyes, and other strands flying awry.
"H-how do you know my name?!" I yelled at him, my eyes opening, and narrowing to his gaze.
He laughed, then smirked.
"You still don't remember, huh? Well, let me put it this way." He pulled my hands above my head, gripping them tightly with one hand.
"I killed your father."
Suddenly, it seemed as though millions of thoughts ran through my head.
Visions of my father lying on the living room floor with a pool of blood underneath him, and my family panicking and crying.
Me cutting myself, leaving several red thin lines on my skin.
Me being slashed in the eye, my eyes turning a violent red ever since that day. It was abnormal. Though I'd went to the doctor, he couldn't do anything.
My thoughts were cut off by a pair of lips on mine. My eyes widened and his nails dug into my hands. I screamed into the kissed, my legs shuffling around and shaking.
He separated himself from me, yanking me up, and he pulled his tie off, binding my hands together tightly.
I panted, as he didn't let me breathe at all during the kiss. His body pressed against me, him smelling of cologne.
I jerked backwards, and he let go of me, making me fall on the desk, my head banging against it.
The pain came to my head immediately, my hands unable to help me in this situation. My eyes shut in pain, tears attempting to spill.
The man known as Mr. Simmons smirked, as he saw my struggle. He came close to me, and pulled me close, leaning into my ear.
"I think we need to talk for a bit longer."
YOU ARE READING
Poison Ivy
Teen FictionA suicidal girl named Ivy hides her identity with just a hoodie. She dresses, and does her best to act like a boy. She is also bullied. One day, it goes too far, and Ivy is convinced that the world has no use for her anymore. Until, she meets someon...
