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CHAPTER TEN

I CROUCH DOWN. Hiding behind the side of the cliff of hardened sand. Hands trembling violently, I peer out with a single eye. The group continues their march towards the big rocks. Still at a distance, Brogan turns towards my direction and I cower behind the cliff, turning to Edmund.

"You should go. You don't have to be here," I say, nervously scratching my arm. Edmund narrows his eyes and raises a questioning brow. He places his hand on mine, stopping my scratching from breaking skin. "It's me that can't be seen... You can just walk out of here without a problem."

"You want me to leave? You want me to abandon you?" he asks, peering past me and past the side of the cliff, apparently checking on the group. Even though I'm hidden completely behind the cliff, the group's voices are coming into range—Brogan talks to Base, although whatever they're saying is still indistinct.

"It's best for you anyway, you don't need to be seen with me. What if one of them recognizes you? Do you really want your fans to see you with me?" I lock eyes with Edmund, nudging him on his chest, urging him to leave with my trembling hand. My whole body begins to shake as I hazard to peer back out again. The group scales onto the rocks, cackling like a bunch of hungry hyenas on the hunt. "Just go and don't turn back."

* * *

I count twelve, maybe fifteen strong, most are my age, but some of them are older. They surround me. Someone shoves me from behind. I turn around, successfully blocking a sloppy punch to my face, only to take two more that meet my jaw from either side of me, one after the other. I'm dazed as I'm thrown to the ground with several bodies landing atop me, beating me from above. I throw both my arms up to cover my head and face, only to take heavy blows to my ribs and stomach, leaving me gasping desperately for air as I lower my elbows to block some of the followup hits. Several hands latch onto my wrists and pry my arms away from guarding myself from the attacker sitting on my waist. More hands latch onto to my legs, flattening them into the ground. Without arms or legs to defend myself with, I squirm and swing my head sideways and try to buck my hips, but I can't seem to evade much of anything as my face gets pummeled.

My face goes from throbbing with pain to becoming almost numb. Blood runs from my nose down the sides of my cheeks into my ears and into my eyes. Through my narrowed red-stained haze, suddenly and seemingly inexplicably, all of the attackers stop hitting me—although, they still continue to hold me down. The three that are sitting atop me rise up to their feet and back away, revealing a tall, menacing figure with a crown of gold approaching from behind them. The three who get up drop back down to join the others already holding my legs. Together, they force my thighs to spread wide and apart, leaving my most vulnerable parts completely defenseless. The golden crowned figure saunters up and between my legs, lowering his boot gently upon my groin.

"Jacob," I whimper, pleading for him not to do this to me again, begging into his eyes of darkness, his cold expression, serious, and unchanging.

"Happy birthday, faggot," someone taunts, tightening his grip on my left ankle, pressing it down into the cold, hard ground with all of his body weight.

Jacob's boot presses into me, but only gently and rather painlessly with the tip, pressing my vulnerable parts lower and against me so that they won't slip or slide away. I try to meet Jacob's gaze to silently beg for him to stop from what I know is coming next, but his glare is intent on his boot, seeming to relish the feel of soft, squishy skin beneath his hard, soulless sole as he licks his lips and smiles.

As if pushing against the clutch pedal of a car, his heel bears slowly and deeply into me. I squirm in futility as the pressure increases, but every hand that's holding me down only grips me tighter. As my parts feel as if they're going to implode, I scream out in agony, turning my head helplessly from side to side, eyes shut, the blood running from my nose onto my eardrums, muffling the odd noises escaping my vocal chords. Between screams, as I take in each desperate, sharp breath, the air is filled with cheering and laughter.