(The following section includes scenes that may be distressing to some readers)
"Mike," it was James's voice.
The tourniquet began to tighten; someone tied it much tighter. My back hurt terribly, as if a car had run me over or I'd been trampled. My throat burned, and there was a fishy taste in it that made me nauseous. I felt my organs throbbing as if they were about to explode. I could feel sticky semen in my ass. I hated it when something stuck to me and wouldn't come off; it was incredibly irritating. My head hurt, and I tried to lift it, but to no avail. What was happening to me?
"Mike," James repeated.
"James… please, untie this, please."
"I can't yet, not now," he grunted.
It was even weirder because I couldn't hear anyone but him. My stomach was growling. The desire for water and food was overwhelming my mind. I had to eat something immediately, or I wouldn't be able to cope.
"At least... please give me some water and food. I'm hungry..." I said. For about a minute, I heard nothing; silence fell, enveloping the entire house.
If I weren't in this situation, I might have enjoyed it. Now I feel awful.
I stood up from my lying position, but it only took a moment for me to feel vomit rising to my lips. At the last second, I stopped myself from vomiting and returned to my previous position.
"They went to the station..." he said.
"Who?"
"Malachai and Ryan..."
"Getting food and water?"
"Yes."
"When will they be here?"
"Soon."
"Where's Jeremy... where is he?" I haven't heard from him in a while. I'm worried they've done something to him; I wouldn't survive that.
"With Joshua."
"And where's Joshua?"
"I can't answer all your questions," he replied gruffly, his knees cracking as he spoke.
"You wouldn't have to... if I'd fucking seen something!" I shouted at him.
Suddenly, the sound of a lighter woke me up completely. It wasn't long before cigarette smoke filled my nostrils.
"Do you want a smoke?" He changed the subject.
"No, answer me..." I felt him shove a cigarette into my mouth. I accidentally inhaled, and he took it away. I wasn't used to smoking — in fact, I only smoked occasionally, and it usually choked me. It wasn't my form of relaxation, nor was it something I'd smoke every day, so I started choking.
"Chill out, bro," was all he said.
"Chill out…?"
"Yeah…"
"What the fuck are you talking about?!"
"Don't yell at me!" He raised his voice.
"You caught me here, raped me, beat me, did shit to me, blindfolded me, immobilized me, and now you're telling me to chill out,what's wrong with you?"
"You could have avoided this if you weren't a whore…"
I punched him square in the face, heard him fall to the ground.
"Don't call me that."
"What else can I call you...huh?" He stepped closer. I could feel his gaze on my face. "You fuck several guys at once and take their cocks in your mouth. Tell me, when other guys are taking you, do you even think about me?"
I didn't answer.
"I'm asking..." He slapped my leg, not hard enough to make me die of pain. "When you fuck other guys, do you think about me?"
Silence.
He snorted and spat on the floor.
"Do you like doing it with other guys?" My breathing was ragged. "You like it when they put it in your mouth and you think it'll never end, right?"
"Stop..." I touched my sweaty hair.
"That's an awkward question, isn't it?"
"I... I don't like that."
"Why are you trying to deny it?"
I could still taste the cigarette in my mouth.
"I'm not denying anything."
"I think so."
"..."
"Did we really rape you?" He touched my cheek. I quickly pulled away.
"Yes..." I replied immediately.
"Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent."
"But we're friends. How can a friend hurt another friend like that?"
"..."
I hate it when he sticks out his business card, labeled "friend," and defends himself so boldly, confident he can convince people to agree with him.
"So what?..."
"Are you afraid to admit you wanted this..."
"Because I didn't!"
"Why are you raising your voice now? I'm talking to you normally. Besides, did I force you to get in my car?"
"..."
"So how did it end?"
"Today isn't the only day you did this," I lowered my voice.
"So, which days were those?"
I tried to remember, but my mind went blank.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"You should know first."
First? What does he mean?
"Speak more clearly, asshole."
"I keep talking, and you don't even try. Why don't you try? You should prove your point, right?"
What's the matter?
"I have no idea," I imagined him raising his hands and making a sad face.
"So what do you mean..."
"You also said we beat you up, do you have any proof?"
He interrupted me, and my blood boiled. Seriously, is he going to pretend to be an idiot who knows nothing?
"You hit me, you son of a bitch, just now..."
"It wasn't even a hard hit, I mean, something more serious, do you have any?"
"In my body and inside," my mind was slowly losing control, tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted him to stop talking to me, to go away and leave me alone.
"Inside me? I'm afraid not."
"I have it inside me..."
"Where?"
"In my butt," I said quietly. I heard him start to laugh, and then the short, quiet laugh turned into a loud, booming one.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I didn't hear what you said, where?"
"Why are you doing this to me?" I covered my ears with my hands. I hoped it was just a dream I'd wake up from soon; nightmares didn't last forever, that was the point.
"Mike, you have a vivid imagination."
"..."
"Who do you get that from, Mom or Dad?"
The mere thought of those two people made me lose my appetite. My stomach tightened to the point of exhaustion, and I felt a tremendous discomfort on the outside; my legs felt numb, the exact opposite of what I felt on the inside. This wasn't a dream at all. The first tear started to fall, and then a whole swarm of them rolled down my cheeks.
"Shut up!" I turned my head away from him. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!"
"I'm so sorry."
I couldn't smell the cigarette smoke at all. He'd obviously stopped smoking moments ago.
"I feel sorry for you."
I didn't respond. I just cried, left alone and in the dark. I didn't have a single living, kind person with me now. I felt abandoned, abandoned to my fate. I've come to the conclusion that no one can save me, much less my mother and Jeremy. I'm alone.