Please Save Me

It all started a year ago.

The night my parents were murdered in front of my eyes in cold blood.

**

I woke to a loud crashing noise.

I slowly opened my eyes and raised my head from its position on my desk. Damn. Must have fallen asleep studying again, I thought, glancing at the History textbook that had (until a moment ago) been my pillow.

I groaned and stretched, pushing my arms in the air behind my head. I stood up and walked to my wardrobe, about to change into my pyjamas when I heard it again; the crashing sound that had woken me up. It seemed to be coming from downstairs.

Yawning, I decided to go and see what was going on. It was probably Dad fumbling around in the dark, not wanting to wake anyone up by turning on a light.

I made my way out of my room and down the staircase. I froze halfway when I heard muffled voices in the kitchen. Definitely not my father.

Carefully, I tip-toed down the rest of the stairs, intending to go and see what was going on. The flashing lights of torch beams reached my eyes, piercing them in the dark. It was with those shafts of light that I finally understood.

Burglars!

I was halfway to my parent's room to wake them up when two large hands grabbed me from behind. I gasped as one encircled my waist while the other covered my mouth.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" a slippery voice whispered in my ear. I squirmed in his grasp, trying in vain to free myself.

The intruder spun around, still holding me and began to make his way towards the kitchen, where a heated discussion was taking place in whispers. My captor easily evaded my attempts to kick him in the shin, laughing quietly as he used his height advantage over me.

"Relax. A pretty little young thing like you wouldn't want to do anything that could get herself killed, now, would she?" he murmured seductively, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I stiffened in anger, a small ball of fear rising inside me as he said the word 'killed'.

I tried to yell for help but his hand muffled any sound I made. Please, Mum, Dad. Wakeup and help me!!

But my wishing was futile.

I was taken into the kitchen like a sack of potatoes.

"What the hell, Fox?" the intruder nearest the doorway said angrily.

The big man holding me shrugged. "I found the little bitch sneaking around the halls. Pretty little thing, ain't she?"

My eyes flashed with anger as the two other men laughed. The man who had spoken first produced a length of cloth. "Can't have her rousing her folks, now, can we?" he said with a glint in his eye that I couldn't quite place. The muscular arms of Fox held me still while I was gagged and tied to a dining room chair.

The third man, small weedy looking thing with a goatee, came out of the shadows and said "Oh please, let's have some fun with her, Boss! I haven't touched a woman in god-knows how many months!!"

Boss laughed. "What say you, beautiful? Should I let Spider have his way?" My eyes grew wide in panic and I furiously fought against my bonds. These weren't your average burglars. So what were they?

Fox tugged at a lock of my waist-length light-brown hair and began curling it around his fingers. I glared at him. He grinned gleefully.

Not wanting to miss out on any of the 'fun', Spider waltzed up to me before removing my gag and leaning in. Before he could kiss me, I spat at him.

"Slut!" Then came the pain as Fox backhanded me across the face, forcing my head to fly to the right. I cried out as my bonds dug into my skin; the only thing keeping me upright was the chair.

Spider finished wiping the spittle from his face and turned toward me. "You’ll pay for that!" he hissed, moving to sit in my lap with his legs either side of me.

Then he began to unbutton my shirt.

As he reached the third button, the lights flicked on, revealing Spider straddling me,my bra showing as a result of my shirt being half-undone. My parents stood in the doorway, my father clutching a revolver aimed at Spider and my mother holding a baseball bat.

"Get away from our daughter!"

My mother gasped in horror when she realized what was happening to me. Boss and Fox pulled guns out of nowhere and levelled them at my parents.

"No!" I cried. "Don't! Please!"

"Shh, my pretty little slut," crooned Spider as he turned his attention back to me. My skin was crawling and I felt dirty.

My mother gave a small cry. "Leave her alone, you filthy bastard!!" She took a step towards my chair and as Spider's attention went to her, I tried to wriggle free. Boss noticed my attempts and beat me in the head with his gun. My head was thrown so far back, I thought my neck would snap. I teetered on the brink of unconsciousness, eyes rolling back in my sockets. Spider slapped me to bring me round and I heard my mother screaming and my father yelling. Blood now ran freely down the left side of my face.

The next thing I knew, there was a gunshot.

It happened in slow motion, my mother running forward to help me, Boss pulling the trigger. Then the slow fall of her body - now with a rosy stain spreading across it - as it fell to the kitchen tiles. I screamed.

My father yelled in rage. As he raised his gun in an attempt to disarm Boss, Fox pulled his trigger, blowing out my fathers brains and scattering them on the bloody tiles.

He fell to rest beside my mother.

I was screaming hysterically now, crying and shaking in horror. Repulsed by the images that were now permanently imbedded in my brain forever, I vomited over Spider, sending him leaping off my legs in a hurry.

"Bitch! Slut! Whore!" The insults and slaps kept on coming. "You fucking worthless piece of shit!"

Boss moved to take Spider's place in my lap. "I'll teach you a lesson; show you who's Boss around here, you little slut!"

And with that, my torture began and I descended deeper into the pits of my own personal hell.

**

I guess you could say a sorry sight awaited the police when they finally came to our house.

My dead parents on the floor - my father missing half his head - and me, half naked and unconscious, slumped against the bonds holding me to my prison. They thought I was dead.

I wished I was.

After leaving the hospital, I was released into the care of my older brother, Andy, and his three friends - Will, James and of course, Rom. I live with them in the apartment they share.

No one knows what really happened that night. And of course, I wasn't going to tell them. I didn't talk for three months after the incident. And even now I don't like to talk. It's normally after lots of gentle encouragement from the boys.

It took me a while to trust them at first. I used to jump and shy away whenever they touched me - even now, they're the only people I ever let touch me willingly. And it took nine months of learning their traits and personalities before I would open up to them.

I knew it was hard on my brother Andy. I saw the way that his shaggy, dark blonde head hung and his bright blue eyes lost their sparkle when I wouldn't react to his early attempts. The way he used to nervously play with his lip piercing with his tongue whenever he was around me. I knew I could trust him, but after my encounter with those thugs that night, I didn’t fully trust any male. It was tough, but he was able to get away from it by hanging out with his girlfriend, Sarah. That left Rom the one who really tried and made all the break throughs with me.

Right from the start, I knew there was something about Rom. The way he never seemed to get annoyed or angry with me when I wouldn't comply to his wishes. He just sat there at his keyboard or with his guitar and sang for me. He was the easiest to get on with out of the four guys, with his good-natured ways and charm. He was also good-looking and I often felt special when he turned down dates and offers from girls in order to spend a night trying to communicate with me. On some of those nights, he was joined by Will, who talked to him when I would not.

Will was small in stature - the smallest of the guys - and only just taller than me by a few centimetres. He had piercing green eyes, one of which was almost always hidden behind jet-black bangs across the left side of his face. And he always styled his hair in the same way - bangs across his eye, and spiky and sticking up at the back. He was a quite guy, and most people took him as a shy person. But he was actually just waiting until he got to know you better; that would be when the onslaught of random, rude and dirty jokes or comments started flying your way. Will was the complete opposite of the last member of their quartet - James.

James was blonde, but he wasn't your average stereotype of a blonde. Tall (about 6 ft) and serious with dark brown eyes and dimples, he was the one you could always count on to tell my brother and the others to pull their heads in. Don't get me wrong, he could still have a good laugh and joke around with them, but he was more of a father figure in the group. The organised, neat and tidy, clear-headed one who bossed everyone around. But nobody minded. They got him back by making fun of his preferences. In other words, James was a bit of a nerd. He was a big Star Wars fan and loved old 80's movies.

Yep, that was pretty much the guys in a nutshell. And then there was me.

I'm a small girl, smaller than average, with straight, light brown hair that hangs in layers to my waist and hazel eyes. I'm a tomboy, which is probably why I get on so well with the guys in our weird relationship. If I was a girly-girl, I don't think I could have lived with the mess that they made (despite James' attempts to get them to clean it up). I loved my music; into a lot rock and alternative bands and hated mainstream pop and techno club beats. In fact, when I wanted to escape from my head, you'd often find me curled up on the sofa in the living room or sprawled out on my bed with my headphones on. I used to be the funny one out of my friends; the one always doing stupid things, the one telling jokes and making people laugh. But ever since that night, I've retreated into my head and my friends moved on, leaving me with only the guys for company. And even then I'm very selective about when I want company. But it's good to have people around when I have one of my 'episodes', as James calls it. Will just calls them fits, even though they are nothing like fits.

It only takes a small thing to set me off; a torch beam, loud crashing noise, car seatbelts there for a while (reminded me of being tied to a chair). One small thing and all of a sudden I'm back inside my head, reliving the memories of that night, going through the motions. But meanwhile, in reality, I'm crying and shaking, sometimes screaming. I'm so desperate to get out that I grab at my arms, holding them tighter and tighter, scratching and clawing at them; drawing blood nine times out of ten. Anything that will try to help me escape.

Most times it's alright, and it doesn't last for long. Because Rom or one of the others will be there to rescue me; or if it's one of the others, they just call for Rom and he comes to help. I trust Rom the most. Maybe because he stuck by my side from the beginning and doesn't push me. Or maybe because he's a musician. Either way, I trust him.

I'm still not sure how or why they accepted me. Maybe because I'm Andy's little sister and I had nowhere else to go. But I don't care what the reason was. I'm just glad they did.