Dime a Dozen

“Wake up sleeping beauty. “ I heard and opened my eyes, but quickly wished I hadn’t.

Leaning over me with a beer in his hand was an older man, with murky receding hair and thick stubble. He put the beer down while I scurried back into a trashcan. My hands shook, sweat formed on my brow and tears filled my eyes. I didn’t think to scream; all I could do was try to crawl away but I was trapped between endless, horribly smelling bags of trash.

He slithered up to me, a smirk on his face. His hand roughly grabbed my shirt and he licked disgustingly up the shell of my ear.

“Don’t try to fight me, honey. We’ll both enjoy this, very very much.” He slurred, making me hold my breath from the foul smell of his breath. I then realized what was really going on, and that my jackets were not longer on my body. Fear and the freezing air ripped through me; my stomach turned and clenched but there was nothing inside to vomit up.

Then my shirt was gone, and I blurted out a wail.

“Shuttup!” he hissed some droplets of alcohol laced spit onto my cheek, jerkily unbuttoning my pants and ripping them off my shaking legs. I didn’t stop screaming until the back of his hand met the side of my face. The cold air made it stink unbearably and a few betraying tears snuck out from between my closed eyelids.

“I should’ove known; a little crying fairy. A little, bloody faggot boy. You should be used to this, shouldn’t yeh? Yeah, yeah? Taking it right up the tight little thing, yeah?”

My cheek met cement before I could process what was happening. My boxers were ripped down to my folded knees, and my bottom half quivered in the cold. My cheeks burned from the scrapes and the tears running onto them, my elbows too, burned like fire as he held me down by the wrists with one hand, and with the other unbuckled his belt noisily.

And then fire ripped up my spine. My breath caught in my throat until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make a sound.

I wished for my little Gabriel to come save me.