You're Cute When You Scream

The room was silent, but definitely not still. Hearts were beating miles a second, eyes were bashfully dashing back and forth across at the person sitting across the room, and confusing thoughts forcefully entered the mind. Ronnie really likes me? What if this was just another act, I mean I’m almost positive that this was how all of this began between him and me.

I shook my head, “You don’t know what you’re saying. Nothing makes sense in this God forsaken house, including your feelings.”

He scooted closer and held onto my hands, which I hadn’t noticed were shaking. “I know what I mean, Myra,” he insisted, “all of this is madness. When I first tagged along, the idea of it all sounded like a good time. I never would have thought that I’d fall for one of the girls being kidnapped.”

I laughed, but it was meritless and full of sarcasm. “Right, like how you didn’t want to kiss me at the CD place?”

“That wasn’t acting, like everything else I had said. I really just wanted to fuck you on the spot, to be bluntly obvious.”

“Ronnie, after what you did to me two days ago, I don’t think I’d want to go anywhere near your dick…” I said, trying my hardest not to relive the memory.

His semi-confident and hopeful smile fell to the ground. “I-I’m sorry about that. Maybe that’s what made me see the light here. You were going through hell and I didn’t do anything to pull you out of it.”

He leaned forward even more, his face mere inches from my own, and moved his hands up toward my stomach. “That’s why I’m hoping this is my baby…so that when we run away we’ll know that it’s our child.”

“Ok, but what if we can’t get away and it’s yours? Do you know what he will do to me?!”

I could’ve sworn that within the few seconds that Ronnie had avoided my eyes I saw tears trying to form in his eyes. “I don’t want to have to think about that. Myra, I –.”

Then it happened. I couldn’t stop it, he would never have stopped it.

There was no more space between us and his hands weren’t innocently resting on my stomach anymore. My fingers became tangled in his black hair, pulling him even closer to me than he had been. Upon doing so, he felt as if he had been given unspoken permission to allow his tongue to enter and connect with mine. Together, they rolled around like wrestlers, only in a bit more playful manner.

His cock, concealed by his pants, rubbed up against my vagina and I realized that subconsciously our bodies had begun grinding on each other, which inevitably caused me to moan ever so slightly into the kiss. But just as his hands crept so slowly up my shirt, a light flashed on from the railing upstairs.

Synyster was coming back…but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. It was even worse than that though, because he had already made it down the stairs, and he was now frozen in place with one of the most pissed off expressions I’d ever seen, and trust me…I’d seen quite a few.

I suppose this would look kind of bad on my part, seeing as I was on top of Ronnie by now. I quickly pulled away from Ronnie, which confused him at first. Luckily, he didn’t take too long to figure out why. Syn curled his fingers into a tight fist and slammed it straight through the drywall where we were leaning up against.

“Sorry to have to break up your little…moment here, Ronnie, but do you mind if I have a word with Myra?” he asked, somewhat nicely to Ronnie. Of course, he’ll only get mad at me…not the other person participating. Joy.

Ronnie dumbly nodded, kind of unable to speak as I pushed myself up off of him and stood up facing Syn, trying as best as I could to conceal what I was feeling inside…a strange mix of lust for Ronnie…and guilt for having, dare I say it, cheated on my apparent one and only.

Synyster’s anger seemed to vanish instantly as he smirked and walked forward, so that he was right in arm’s reach of me…honestly giving me no place to run. He reached towards me, so simple at first, and then gripped the back of my head, making sure that he also had a hold on each of my hairs while he was at it. He pulled backwards slightly and then suddenly catapulted me forward, sending me flying into the wall, making a dent just above his own mark.

I cringed as soon as my skull had made contact with the wall, sending all of the pain specifically shooting into my forehead before sending me sliding back down to the ground. A thin trail of blood began leaking from the top of my forehead, the spot I’d assume had taken the worst portion of the hit. I tried to pull myself back up, but experienced some difficulty because of the massive amount of dizziness that was holding my body down and playing tricks with my mind.

“You stupid fucking bitch, how dare you try and make a move on another one of us! You belong to me you whore,” he growled, rage seeping from his words and sharp glare.

He leaped forward and used his left hand to grip tightly around my throat, pulling me up off the ground and leading me toward the stairs. The corners of my vision began turning black and at this point I wished that I could blackout. But he knew what he was doing – he was holding on tight enough, but not to the point that could cause me to pass out.

Before we were all the way up the stairs, he turned back and faced Ronnie. “Sorry about that, dude. I’ll make sure she learns her lesson this time.”

And then he was gone. Why, Ronnie, why did you have to get me into this?

*Zacky’s POV*

Prison walls weren’t exactly what I expected to end up looking at not only the day after Christmas, but also after going out to save the life of the girl I thought was right for me. Unbelievable that she could take such an opportunity and turn it around on me! After all I went out of my way to make sure that Katie was fine and as far away from trouble as possible, and how does she thank me? By putting me here? I think not.

A shadow crossed my vision, and I looked up to find what looked like the stereotypical cop.

“Here’s some more food for you, Chubby,” he snickered, tossing a paper plate with a donut down at me. The donut flew off the plate and landing frosting side down on my crotch.

I smirked, “You know if you keep your diet consistent with food like donuts you could end up like me. No homo or anything, but mind if I feel your six pack? I need some sort of inspiration during this period of dire fatness.”

He was hesitant but eventually gave in to his completely stupid-minded half and leaned forward. As awkward as it was, I reached forward and tried to find his abs, which was surprisingly hard to do through his police uniform.

But one thing I did find easily was his gun. I gripped it tightly and pulled it back with me into my cell. I cocked it in place and aimed it at his ab-less gut.

“Burn in hell, Chubby,” I laughed, pulling the trigger twice – once at the cop and the second at the lock of my cell.

I’m outta here and Katie, I’m coming for you.

*Normal POV*

The entire way up the staircase Synyster muttered random curse words to himself, all while dragging me along behind him like how a kid might drag its blanket behind him. He led me back into his bedroom, the same room that I had been so horribly desecrated in days ago.

I struggled against him as he made a move to push me into the room. I ended up tripping over a guitar he left on the floor and hit my head, once again, this time on the wooden banister of his bedpost. Oddly enough, I really think I hit the exact same fact as before, because blood began flowing out through my fingers, which were trying to stop the flow itself.

“Tell me, Myra,” he asked, standing directly behind me, “what made you think that you could just throw yourself onto any guy in this house? In case your stupid insignificant mind forgot, you willingly agreed to be my girlfriend again. And as I’m sure you no, I have a very strict no cheating policy.”

The end of his brief rant finished off with a sound other than his voice – rattling chains. He raised them high above my head and before I could move out of the way, he brought the looped chain down and tightened it around my neck. He brought the string like portion of the chain over to his bed and tied it to the hook in his ceiling, pulling me along in the process. Now I was dangling from my neck slightly high above his bed, kicking my feet back and forth, unsuccessfully loosening the chain.

My hands flew up to the noose and tried to keep the metal from digging into my flesh. He seemed to notice this right away and used some spare rope and handcuffs to tie my hands tightly together in front of me. He repeated the process with my legs.

“Is my baby ready for her punishment?” he cooed with a smile on his face and something being held behind his back.

My eyes turned into narrow slits as I decided to go with the poor choice of answering his rhetorical question. “Fuck off, you evil asshole piece of shit!” I screamed, almost fearing the viciousness in my tone of voice.

He took a step back. I bet he didn’t calculate that little factor in his plan.

No more time was wasted concealing the prize behind his back. It was a black leather whip, complete with a spiked end attachment. “Oh no I didn’t expect my angel to have acquired a rebellious streak. Looks like I’ll have to remove it from you,” he shrugged, followed by a sudden strike. No warning, not even a slight hint of doing it.

I cried out as the whip hit the top of my spinal cord, the spikes gripping the top layer of flesh and tugging outward as he pulled the whip downward, slicing through my clothes as well.

I breathed out heavily, trying to calm my nerves. I won’t let him get to me, damn it. If there was any truth behind what Ronnie said, then I do have a future to live for. But first, I’d need to survive this and be the one to put Syn in his place for once.

He pulled the whip out and raised it back above his head, getting ready to strike again. I bit down slightly on my lip, hoping it would be good enough to hold a scream back. He came around for another round, only this time he didn’t allow the whip to attach itself. He kept coming back over and over, lashing at my now exposed skin.

Lacerations on top of other lacerations covered my back, crisscrossing and mixing trails of blood. The pain got to me quicker than I had imagined, and my teeth sank right through my lower lip like a carnivore’s teeth digs into a fresh kill. I groaned as blood spilled from my numb lip down into my mouth and onto my chest.

He didn’t stop either – that was the part I had not anticipated. Raise and lower, raise and lower. And he did it in different intervals of time too, totally throwing me off guard and hindering my ability to prepare myself.

The chains still somehow had room to tighten around my neck, bruising and digging into the tender skin. And then just as soon as it started, he stopped and I heard the whip drop to the hardwood floor. Was he finished? Something deep inside me told me the answer was…no.

With each breath that I took, my chest and back heaved up and down, squishing more blood out from the broken veins and down over other bloodied lines. Occasionally I could hear a faint dripping sound as a drop or two made its way down onto the bed. Synyster walked forward and placed something down under my legs. I couldn’t even bare to look down and look…mostly because it hurt to move my neck in any extension. Now that dripping noise from earlier was more defined…it was hitting something other than the bedding.

After what I thought had to of been at least five minutes of silence, he finally reached forward and loosened the chain from the hook, letting me fall down onto the bed. He reached for something behind me and put whatever the object was down in front of me. Apparently, he had placed a plastic container below my back to catch the blood. It was nearly filled to the brim, sloshing with crimson fluid.

“I think that your whorish mouth needs to be rinsed out a little bit. And for what you’ve done…it needs more than water to do that. It needs your own blood,” he explained, inching the container closer to my face, which was resting on the bed.

I gave him a disgusted look, and wished that I could’ve said something, but I couldn’t even lift my now swollen lower lip. He sighed, “I see you can’t do it on your own.”

He rolled his eyes as he leaned forward and lifted my head up by the chain. He dropped his grip suddenly, sending my head flying down into the blood. I screamed as blood covered my face, went up my nose, into my eyes, and definitely in my mouth. He kept a strong hand on the top of my head, keeping me in place, drowning me in blood. After a couple of seconds and several near deaths, he allowed me to pull my head up, gasping for air.

Before I went back under again, I caught a glimpse of the framed photo he had “given” me for Christmas. Why did something so beautiful have to go up in flames and be forever scorched? Why did this have to happen to me? To him? I’d like to think it was never too late to try and bring that person back, but we all know that’s just a comforting lie.

There is no saving him.

…And there’s no saving me.

I was submerged back into the red sea, drowning in my tears, blood, pain, and fallen hope.