Harlow.

After three days of being held captive in Harlow’s basement I stopped counting the days. It seemed like I was doomed to stay locked in the basement and used as Harlow’s plaything for the rest of my life.

The basement was cold, even in the midst of summer. I was always hugging myself for warmth because I had refused to take any blankets from Harlow. I regretted it. There was constant sounds of dripping coming from one corner of the room. The basement smelled musty and a little moldy. I hoped breathing in the mold would kill me, just to free me from being raped, cut, and even slapped.

I tried to fight Harlow off. He wasn’t happy when I got hold of the knife and stabbed his shoulder. He became angry and was ruthless with his “fun.” That’s what he called raping me. He said “Don’t cry, it’s fun.” Yeah, to him maybe what he did to me was fun.

I hadn’t showered in at least a month. I ate maybe twice in probably a month. I’m not sure how long though. I stopped counting days after the third. I felt disgusting, I smelled disgusting, I probably looked disgusting. None of that stopped Harlow though. He didn’t care what he was having violating as long as it was “fun.”

I rolled onto my side, with my back to the stairs when I heard his footstep upstairs stopping at the door. Then the eerily familiar sound of the locks clicking filled the almost silent basement. Then his footsteps ascending downward sent a cold shiver up my spine.

“Good morning, baby!” Harlow was rather cheery. I hadn’t known it was morning until he greeted me. Harlow had every small window in the basement covered with black towels. I cringed when I heard him set something down on the concrete floor. It was probably nothing I wanted to see.

“Sunny...you’re not sleeping are you?” he asked louder. I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes and waited for the usual routine to begin. Harlow’s disgustingly familiar weight and scent surrounded me as he straddled my hips. “I knew you weren’t.” he said and his warm breath the skin on the corner of my lips. I bit back the urge to cry. There was no use in crying anymore. Crying never changed anything, it never stopped him. I hadn’t cried for a while now.

The corner or Harlow’s lips caught the corner of mine. If I were with any other boy in any other situation my heart would have been beating frantically with joy. It was Harlow though and my skin crawled at the mere thought of his lips near any inch of my body.

“I have a birthday gift for you.” Harlow said, two of his long fingers trailed along my jaw. I shivered but not from delight like he thought, from disgust. I was dreading to find out what kind of “gift” Harlow had in mind. “Open your eyes, baby.” Harlow spoke softly, he was always soft spoken when he wasn’t violating me. It made me sick. How could such a monster have such an angelic voice?

I obediently opened my eyes though. He grinned at me, still pressing his weight against me. “Wait here.” he said smiling down at me. It was disgusting. Plus, where was I going. I had barely moved in a month and a half, if it was in fact, my birthday. Harlow came back with a big cardboard box and showed it too me. I didn’t care though...I looked away.

“It’s a radio. I can plug my iPod into so you can listen to music. Isn’t that great?” he asked happily. I rolled over onto my side and put my back towards him again. “You don’t like it.” he stated, not asked. Harlow rolled me onto my back and the straddled my hips again. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought you would like it.” he frowned and I closed my eyes again. “Lemme make it up to you.” Harlow’s words were muffled due to the way he attached his lips to my neck. He effortlessly discarded my destroyed t-shirt onto the floor and then ripped his shirt off. Couldn’t he see this was no where near better than a radio.

And so Harlow continued to undress himself, and then ripped off my boy shorts that were now not even healthy to still have on my body. Nothing different happened when he got his pleasure from me. I didn’t cry, I didn’t beg for him to stop, I didn’t fight him. There was no use because nothing would stop him.

“I love you, baby.” Harlow said laying next to me with his sweaty chest rising and falling quickly in attempts to catch his breath. I shook my head from side to side. I didn’t want him to say that. I didn’t want him to consider what he did love. I didn’t want him to call me baby.

“No? You don’t want me to call you baby?” he asked. I never looked at him anymore. “But you. You’re my baby, Sunny. I love you.” I cringed and scooted to the opposite side of the mattress. It was pointless seeing as Harlow pulled him into his chest instantly. Harlow kept me looked in his embrace for what was maybe fifteen minutes before I couldn’t keep my eyes opened any longer. I was exhausted from everything he forced me through.

I woke up to the sounds of music flowing through the basement and Harlow nowhere in sight. It was a nice changed but I would not let myself admit that. Anything that had to do with Harlow was torture. His flavorful taste in music being one of the unescapable ways he tortured me.