Harlow.

My eyelids felt heavy. Like a baby elephant was sitting on each of them. I struggled to open my eyes for an hour while I listened to a consistent drip. My legs her bare. My bottom was covered only with the plain black boy shorts I was wearing the night previously. Where was I? I couldn’t remember. I began to panic. Why couldn’t I remember?

My eyes shot open and I blinked into the darkness. It was a basement. I was in a basement. What was I doing in a basement. I sat and ran my fingers across the bare mattress I was previously asleep on. A surge of pain traveled through my head I instinctively clutched my hands around my head. I kicked my feet and listened to the rattle of a chain. I let my eyes travel from the cuff around my ankle to the chain that was attached to the floor near the cinder block wall.

My heart began to race as I pulled my left ankle with all might in hopes of getting the chain free. All I did was tire myself out and dig a gash into my left ankle. I looked to my right for the first time and my eyes met any arrangement of knives of all different sizes and shapes.

I screamed in horror when it finally set in. I was going to die. I was going to die chained to a wall in a drafty basement three days after finishing high school.

“Help!” I screamed so loud that it felt like my throat was bleeding. “HELP ME!” I screamed again, picking up volume and shedding terrified tears.

That’s when I heard them. The sounds I would soon learn to fear and to hate. Two feet walking down creaky stairs leading to me.

“Good. You’re awake.” the voice sounded familiar a little.

“Help me! Please!” I begged trying to see face of the man who was happy I was awake. I prayed that he was good. I should have known that he wasn’t. He moved closer, into the small circle of light a lamp hanging over my head created.

“Sh. It’s okay.” The voice cooed growing closer and I reacted without thinking and flinched as far away as the chain would let me.

“Please?” I cried desperately. When he stepped into the light I wanted to vomit. Harlow Burton stood there in a pair of red pajama pants looking at me with curious eyes. Why wouldn’t he help me? I’ve never done anything to him! If anything I always nice to him! Why was he doing this?

“Don’t cry.” he spoke softly crawling across the bare mattress toward me. I was shaking with fear.

“Please, Harlow, help me? Please!” I beg through my tears.

With no verbal reply Harlow forced his lips over mine. I tried to push him away but when I when I moved my face away from his a piercing pain hit my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked at the knife Harlow had cut my shoulder with.

“Be good.” Harlow hissed lowly and crashed his lips against mine again. I knew better than to fight then. Fighting would only get me cuts. So I stayed motionless while Harlow’s lips roamed all over my lips, my jaw, and my neck. I shivered when his cold fingers dropped to my neck.

“Please stop!” I begged pathetically as Harlow’s hands moved under my gray t-shirt.

Harlow ignored my pleas and used his blood stained knife to cut my shirt straight down the middle so it hung off my shoulders.

“My favorite color.” Harlow smiles against the skin off my neck upon seeing the deep crimson of my bra.

“Don’t!” I begged helplessly. With the flick of his wrist Harlow had cut me out of my bar. I laid under his weight with my top half bare. I shivered against the drafty air in the basement and tried to numb myself from his touch. I tried to block out the feel of his hands on my chest. I tried to squirm away from him but this only earned me a wound across my stomach. I cried helplessly as he pushed my boy shorts to my ankles.

Harlow’s bare chest met my bare chest as he kicked off the red pajama pants. Harlow’s naked body was pressed against mine as he trailed rough kisses from my jaw to my collar bone and then to shoulder blade.

“Don’t do this!” I sobbed when he pried my legs open.

“Is it your first time, love?” he asked sweetly caressing my thigh. I sobbed harder, he was going forcibly take my innocence. “Sh, don’t cry.” Harlow cooed. “It’s my first time too, we’re both new at his.” he said before pushing himself into me. I cried out in pain, he wasn’t gentle. He crashed his hips into mine forcefully, making me feel like I was being ripped in two.

I felt sick as he moaned and grunted with pleasure. I opened my eyes and looked at him as he threw his head back and let a deep growl from his throat. I wanted to throw up. Harlow Burton used to be the quiet boy in my English class who wrote poems of love. Harlow Burton used to be the graceful and silent boy who danced with me when we were forced to ballroom dance in Phys. Ed. Harlow Burton used to be boy in Math class declined a piece of my gum everyday. Harlow Burton used to be they boy girls fawned over because of his resemblance of a male model and mysterious demeanor. Harlow Burton used to be the boy who every girl in Jackson High School wanted but never took notice to them. He looked like a monster now. Hideous and ugly. I closed my eyes tightly.

“Moan for me, baby.” Harlow said lowly into my ear. I refused. I couldn’t. “Moan.” he growled becoming angry. I still couldn’t bring myself to give into his wishes. I knew I was going to use his knife if I refused again. I was right. Harlow dug the tip of his knife into my hip and I moaned out of pain but it satisfied him. The speed of Harlow’s hips increased until he expressed the pleasure he felt one last time and rolled off my aching body.

Silently, Harlow put on his pajama pants and walked back up the creaking wooden stairs. I pulled my boy shorts back to my waist and tried desperately to cover my chest with my torn shirt. I laid awake crying and shivering against the cold.

Harlow Burton was a monster.