INNOCENCE LOST REPOST
My two best friends, Anna and Caiden. They helped me through hell and led me to... not hell.
When I was in sixth grade, Anna started dating a boy by the name of Jace. Caiden and Anna were both in seventh grade. Jace was in high school. He had your typical lifeguard bod, he was tall, he worked out, and he had piercing blue eyes that made people chase him. Anna had a supermodel body and dark red hair.
I warned Anna that Jace looked like a dickhead, but she ignored me and said he was really nice. I don’t know, there was just a hungry look in his eyes that I didn’t like.
So they start dating. A few months go by, things seem to be going well, and I start thinking that maybe Anna is right and Jace is not as bad as I think.
Me and Caiden are doing a very large Mario Kart tournament in the basement between the two of us, and Anna is on a date with Jace. I had just beaten him twice in a row and I was winning.
Anna is the kind of person who never rings the doorbell or knocks. Since she had a key to my house, she barges in. We hear her come in and go up to meet her. She’s crying and there’s blood all over her clothes.
“What happened?” Caiden asks.
She shakes her head and sinks to the floor. I kneel down.
“What happened, sis?” Me and Anna always refer to eachother as siblings, because we have the same eye color.
“He.... he...” I don’t know what about the way she said that that clued me in, but something is her broken voice told me that Jace had raped her.
“Take care of Anna!” I yell at Caiden. “I’ve got a rapist to murder.”
“Bu-”
“Just do it!” I jump up and run out the door.
Being an expert at third wheeling relationships, I knew where Jace lived and it was close to my house.
I very politely rung the doorbell.
“What..?” Jace answers the door. “Oh, hi, A—” I punch him in the face.
“Fuck you.”
“What was that for?” He asked, rubbing his face. I punch him again.
“I think you fucking know what that was for, you piece of shit!”
“Uh-”
“Two days. I’ll give you two days to get out of our lives. If you’re still here, I’ll fucking kill you, I swear I will.”
“How-”
“I don’t care how! Just get out of here!”
Two days come and go, and I have managed to cool down enough to not kill him. I still want to kill him. But I won’t.
I knock on his door and he answers, and steps back. Are his parents never home? I wonder.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I snarl. “Don’t ever touch my sister again, you shit eating douchebag.” He raises his hands, as if in surrender.
“I won’t.” As I turn around, I hear him laugh, and it scares the shit out of me, but I ignore it. That night, I lock the door to my bedroom, (this was back when I had a lock, I no longer do for safety reasons.) and I go to sleep, thinking all is right in the world.
To this day, I have no clue how Jace got in my house, or got through my locked door without breaking it or waking me up, but he did, and the next thing I know I have a 200 pounds of solid muscle on me.
“What the fuck?!” I scream. At least, it feels like I scream, but my voice is silent as the grave.
“Get off me,” I hiss, feeling the air crushed out of my lungs.
“You want it,” he says.
“No, I don’t, get off, get off...” I was begging now, tears dripping down my face in pathetic lines.
“Bitch, you enjoy this bullshit.”
“No, no...” I can feel his hands on me, nails scratching my skin like knives. It hurts, make it stop, I think, but I can’t speak.
“You deserve this, you good for nothing shit,” he murmurs. I try to scream but I can’t. It hurts, it hurts...
A loud crash alerts me to someone else coming into the room. It’s Caiden.
“Get off of them!” he yells, shoving Jace off me. I get up and pull on some too-big shirt. I’m breathing heavily and there’s blood coming from tiny cuts all over me. By some miracle, nothing got on my sheets.
Now I’m really weirded out that my parents aren’t coming, but I remember they are on a date and my brother’s at a sleepover so I’m home alone. Caiden is beating the shit out of Jace, and when I walk up he moves aside.
“He’s all yours,” he says. I’ll admit I went kind of crazy. All I remember is punching him furiously, over and over again, until he vomited blood.
“Get out of my house,” I growled. My voice was low, but he flinched at the power behind them as if I had screamed. He ran out of my house. The next day, him and his family moved away. I haven’t seen him since, except in nightmares.