Troubles
Shelter
I open my eyes. I must've heard something. I always sleep lightly when I-
I suck in a short, sudden breath when I feel a hand over my mouth and something cold pressed against my throat.
This is it. I'm finally gonna get killed in this place. Someone once got strangled here during the night, so I always slept with one eye open. I woke up; but it was too late. I'm gonna get killed.
“I know you,” a raspy, dark voice whispers in my ear. I look down and see metal shine. It's then that I realize that the cold thing pressed against my throat is a knife; a big knife.
“You're the boy with the money.” No. He can't take my money. I need it to see my...
My girl.
My girl is gone. My mom is gone. My friends are gone. Gerard is gone.
I've got nothing left.
He takes his hand away from my mouth and I feel him rummage through my pockets until I hear something rattle.
I suck in a breath, suddenly realizing how much my eyes are burning.
“Oh, you like that?” he asks with a darker voice. He then licks my ear. I want to pull away, but I can't. The pressure of the knife loosens a bit.
“You little fag,” he whispers, then grabs my dick from where his hand is shoved in my pocket. I want to cry harder, but I can't because of the knife.
“People with money shouldn't stay here, but I'll let you slide.” Something on my throat tickles, but I have no idea if it's a tear or if the knife has cut me.
“I like you,” he whispers sleazily.
He removes the knife. He pulls his hand out of my pocket, leaving my dick alone and leaving with my money – my useless money. As soon as I can't hear him anymore, I get up off the bed. I hold back the sobs, make sure I've got everything I own and run out as silently as I can.
I open the door and keep my head down as I hurriedly walk past the guard.
“Frank!” I squeeze my eyes shut and continue towards the door leading to the street. A tear rolls down the same trail as before.
“Frank,” someone calls again and grabs my arm. I turn and wrench my way out of the hold.
“Frank, calm down,” Brian says. It's Brian. I look up.
He looks shocked, but his eyes quickly turn sad. He exhales, seemingly in relief, but his eyes are still sad.
“Come here.” He opens his arms and wraps them around me.
I suck in a short, sudden breath when I feel a hand over my mouth and something cold pressed against my throat.
This is it. I'm finally gonna get killed in this place. Someone once got strangled here during the night, so I always slept with one eye open. I woke up; but it was too late. I'm gonna get killed.
“I know you,” a raspy, dark voice whispers in my ear. I look down and see metal shine. It's then that I realize that the cold thing pressed against my throat is a knife; a big knife.
“You're the boy with the money.” No. He can't take my money. I need it to see my...
My girl.
My girl is gone. My mom is gone. My friends are gone. Gerard is gone.
I've got nothing left.
He takes his hand away from my mouth and I feel him rummage through my pockets until I hear something rattle.
I suck in a breath, suddenly realizing how much my eyes are burning.
“Oh, you like that?” he asks with a darker voice. He then licks my ear. I want to pull away, but I can't. The pressure of the knife loosens a bit.
“You little fag,” he whispers, then grabs my dick from where his hand is shoved in my pocket. I want to cry harder, but I can't because of the knife.
“People with money shouldn't stay here, but I'll let you slide.” Something on my throat tickles, but I have no idea if it's a tear or if the knife has cut me.
“I like you,” he whispers sleazily.
He removes the knife. He pulls his hand out of my pocket, leaving my dick alone and leaving with my money – my useless money. As soon as I can't hear him anymore, I get up off the bed. I hold back the sobs, make sure I've got everything I own and run out as silently as I can.
I open the door and keep my head down as I hurriedly walk past the guard.
“Frank!” I squeeze my eyes shut and continue towards the door leading to the street. A tear rolls down the same trail as before.
“Frank,” someone calls again and grabs my arm. I turn and wrench my way out of the hold.
“Frank, calm down,” Brian says. It's Brian. I look up.
He looks shocked, but his eyes quickly turn sad. He exhales, seemingly in relief, but his eyes are still sad.
“Come here.” He opens his arms and wraps them around me.
♠ ♠ ♠
Merry Christmas!! =D