Threat

“Tyler…”

She’s straddling me, hands wrapped tightly around my throat.

“Why are you struggling so much, baby boy? You knew this was coming.”

I’m not struggling. I can never move any part of my body.

“I love you. I just hate having to remind you who you belong to.”

She grips my throat tighter and tighter.

“You’re mine, Tyler. I need you! You can't belong to anyone else!”

Tighter and tighter, until…

CRACK!

My eyes shot open.

Heavy, rapid breathing; forehead slightly covered with sweat.

No one is on top of me; there are no hands.
Marcia is lying next to me, sound asleep.

That nightmare again.

No. It wasn’t a nightmare.

It was a repeated memory.

I slowly sat up and carefully maneuvered out of the sheets and into the bathroom.

I told Michael that I would hang out with him today.
I can’t let him down…

Turn on the shower; strip away the boxers.
I stepped inside, instantly relaxing at the feel of the water.

Why am I still so shaky?
She wouldn’t do that to me again.

She promised.

However, I nearly jumped out of my skin when two arms wrapped around me from behind.

“Relax. It’s only me.”

And I did – she didn’t hesitate to attach her lips to my neck while pressing her chest against my back.

No clothing.

“Not today, Marcia…”

“Why?”
She nipped at my shoulder – I had to stifle a moan.

“I’m not up to it…”

She moved away, only to grab a hold of my shoulders and force me against the wall.

Long, black hair sticking to her skin.
Bright, green eyes filled with lust.

She’s slightly taller and stronger than me.
And when she gets like this…

I sighed, leaning in to press my lips against hers.
She pulls me close, only to force me back against the wall, causing me to wince at the impact.

“That hurt…”
But she only traces her fingers down my stomach as a response.

She knows all of my weaknesses and she uses them well to her advantage.

When she gets like this…
…I can’t help but give in.

| x | x | x |

“Rough morning?”
Michael was organizing the single flowers by color, glancing towards me every minute.

“What makes you say that…?”

He places the last flower in its rightful section before walking over to me.
He takes a second before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dark circles under your eyes and your stance is a little guarded – you had the nightmare again. Red and dark purple marks on your neck – Marcia was too rough, as usual. You’re quiet – you’re afraid of my input on this.”

“You only glanced at me for a second. How could you tell all of that?”
“I’m your best friend, Tyler. I’m supposed to know.”

I only shrugged my shoulders, not looking at him.

“Something else is wrong.”
I shook my head.

“Tyler…”
“Don’t say my name like that…”

I felt a hand on my cheek, a thumb gently brushing against it.
I bit down on my lip to stop it from quivering, but a tear had already fallen.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Micah…”
I finally looked up at him – sadness and concern etched on his features.

I placed my hand on top of his, breaking eye contact with him.

“Your shift is over, right? Let’s just go…”

| x | x | x |

“It’s been a while. I almost forgot this place existed…”

The sun was starting to set; Michael and I were sitting on the edge of the mini-ramp of the skate park.

We must have been here for at least three hours.

“You’re not serious, are you?”
He looked a little hurt.

“No. I could never forget this place, even if I tried.”
That instantly brought a smile to his face, but it started to fade.

“We don’t hang out like we used to.”
He paused for a moment.

“I remember how back then, we used to be partners in crime. Our friends called us the 'Bonnie and Clyde' of our hometown.”
“We weren’t criminals, though.”

“We sure as hell were troublemakers. ‘Hooligans’ if you will…The point is…we used to be inseparable, and now…”
He ran his hand through his hair, leaving his sentence with silence.

I placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know. And it’s my fault…but, I promise that no matter what happens, you’ll always be my best friend. And I will always make time for you.”
I gave him a small smile and he returned it with one of his own.

I glanced toward the sky that was getting darker with each passing minute.

“One more run before we head back?”
“Yeah, of course.”

We both stood up, skateboards in hand.
Michael had already set up and was riding.

However, the ringtone for a text message sounded in my pocket, stalling me.
I took the phone out and opened the message, almost dropping my phone afterwards.

Marcia: “Where are you?! I need you!”

I knew that message would be coming soon.
However, I wasn’t expecting picture of a mutilated wrist – ten lines on one arm with blood pouring from them.

Another message.

Marcia: “It can only get worse the longer you take to get home.”

I turned towards Michael, who had stopped riding and was giving me a questioning look.
Tears were pricking at my eyes and my body shifted into panic.

I left the park without any words, frantically making my way back home.

Open the door. Drop the skateboard.
Dash upstairs and barge into the bedroom.

There she was, bandaging her wrist while humming a small tune to herself.

I exhaled the breath that I didn’t even know that I was holding as I walked towards her.
I sat on the bed, quickly pulling her into my arms.

“You shouldn’t have left me for so long.”
“I know…I’m sorry…I love you.”

She let out a small hum in satisfaction.

“I love you too, baby boy.”