Beaten

Chapter 1:

“Get down on the ground, you little freak!” Jake shouts as he lashes out at me, and I wince. I’m not going to do it, I’m not. I step backwards, trying to hold back tears.

“Get away from me!” I exclaim, and my breath feels restricted in my throat. Beads of sweat are trickling down Jake’s red face, soaking the roots of his dirty brown hair. His cold grey eyes are glaring down at me, his black singlet clinging to his muscly chest. I will not let him touch me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me into a tree. I groan with pain, feeling a bruise welling up on my back. I want to run, to escape, but I know I have no hope. No one knows I’m here, by this creek in Greenway Woods. I told Mum I was going to Jake’s house- we’d hang out, maybe go to a movie. And that’s what I honestly thought would happen. Not this. Anything but this.

Jake’s grip on my shoulders is tightening, I can feel his fingernails digging into my skin. I scream desperately, hoping that someone will hear me, but like I expected, nobody comes to my aid. There is no one who can hear my frantic cries for help. I am alone. Jake will kill me, or else leave me here to die.

“Please,” I beg, a salty tear escaping my blue eyes. “Please, leave me alone, Jake. I love you, I-I thought you loved me!”

Jake stares at me pityingly, then laughs; a cruel, menacing laugh. He presses harder on my shoulders and my knees buckle beneath me. I collapse on all fours onto the dirty ground, trying to control my breathing. I look up at Jake’s tall figure, terrified, wondering what he’ll do to me next.

“You idiot,” he says. “You don’t love me. If you loved me then you wouldn’t have gone off with that d***head from the drama club!”

“But I didn’t!” I exclaim, furious at how quickly Jake has jumped to conclusions.

“Oh, really?” he asks. “Well, that’s sure what it looked like!”

“Jake, please. Believe me!” I plead. “He’s just a friend, we were just talking! I-I don’t love him!”

Jake snorts, and I try not to laugh as I’m reminded of a pig. Big mistake.

“WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT, CHARLOTTE?” he screamed. He was breathing heavily, making me more frightened with every second.

“N-Nothing!’ I say, but my voice sounds weirdly quiet and scared. I close my eyes against the blinding sun, knowing this is a stupid thing to do, but unable to bear the sun’s bright white glare any longer.

I yelp as something big and hard collides with my leg, tearing a hole in my red tights. My eyes snap open, and it dawns on me. Jake has really hurt me now. He’s kicked me, bruised me, cut me. Shaking, I stand up. Jake is crouched underneath a willow tree, his head in his hands. I edge over to him.

“Jake?” I caution, but he doesn’t respond. “Jake, -II think we should go home now.”

Then, catching me off guard, he stands up, hitting his head on a low branch.

“BLOODY HELL, CHARLOTTE!” he bellows (although he uses a far worse swear-word.)

I step back, willing him to calm down.

“Look. What. You. Made. Me. DO!” he says, pointing at the lump slowly rising on his sweaty forehead, taking a step towards me with each word.

“I-I didn’t do anyth-” trembling, I try to stick up for myself, but he cuts me off.

“I HATE YOU, CHARLOTTE!” he growls, and he pushes me to the ground. I’m screaming now, gasping for breath because I can’t breathe. He’s pinning me down on the wet grass, one large clammy hand grasping my neck, the other scratching my wet cheeks, punching my eyes, pulling out clumps of my wavy black hair. One knee is digging into my stockinged leg, the other into my stomach. I feel sick, and I try to tell him but no sound escapes my throat. I can’t breathe. I close my eyes, and feel Jake’s grip on my neck loosen. He thinks I’m dead. I feel him get off me, nudge my side with his shoe. I don’t respond. I’m too weak, my neck is so sore I can still barely get a breath, let alone make a sound.

“Charlotte?” he asks, and he sounds scared. “Oh, sh**! I-I’ve killed her!!!”

He sounds alarmed, and I know he’s first thought will be ‘I’m going to jail!’

I don’t care, he hope he does go to jail. I’m not about to tell him I’m alive. And then, I hear his footsteps retreating, sprinting away through the woods. I open my eyes, force myself to sit up.

“J-Jake?” I call out. My throat is dry, aching. My head pounds along with my heart. Jake stops, and I see him turn around in the distance. He notice’s that I’m alive, I know he does. But he ignores me. He doesn’t turn around, and help me up.  He doesn’t tell me he’s sorry, that he’ll go for help. He just leaves me. Leaves me alone to die, without any food or water. Leaves me in pain- pain that he has caused. I feel the tears welling up in my throat, and they spill out of my bruised eyelids, trickling down my bleeding cheeks. I know I must look a right mess, but I’m sure I can get up, make my own way back home. I place my hands on the grounds either side of me, and push up. My arms just tremble sickeningly, and I collapse back down into a lying position. I stare disbelievingly down at my wrists. One is bent back at a strange angle, and they are both stained with what is indistinguishably fingermarks from where Jake twisted my wrists back. I shudder, and close my eyes, trying my best to ignore the pain. If no one comes soon, it looks like I’ll be stuck here for ever...