Chapter 6. Sixth Step.

617 8 4
                                    

"Red shell in-coming."

By the time I had registered Char's warning, the remote was already shaking in my hand.

Peach had been nailed in the rear.

Mario raced ahead of her, laughing manically in his kart.

"Fff-"

"No swearing in this household." He scolded me, nudging my knee with his own as we sat close on the small couch.

I would inch away if I could, but the leather seemed to love slipping my butt back towards Charles.

"This game is so messed." The sigh under my breath wasn't meant to be heard, but Char picked it up and turned defensive.

"Mario Kart's a classic!" A childish pout made his lips pucker out, and he faced me with watery eyes.

"Sorry, Slider's got you beat." I nodded in the direction of the dog sitting on the end of Charles. His furry white head twitched towards us, and he blinked his black eyes. A remote was resting in front of his paws, as if Char expected the dog to play. Slider's character; Bowser was still at the starting line, and hadn't moved an inch.

I don't even know how we got here.

Char had fed me pancakes, which quite honestly would make any person roll over and beg.

Charcakes should be packaged and sold; they'd make millions.

After filling my tummy, he had somehow gotten me to sit down and play this ridiculous game.

I don't mind most video games, if they involve shooting people in the face. But Charles seemed to be into the cute little Nintendo games, bright colors, smiles, and a false sense of security.

It made me want to vomit.

But I wasn't about to lose.

The loser drinks pickle juice.

I hate pickle juice.

"HAH! I WON, IN YOUR FACE!!"

"..."

I only wish I had the bragging rights. I used to be so good at gloating, I would have liked to win. I thought Charles would be the nice guy and fail on purpose. But apparently when it comes to gaming, he turns into a total bullhead.

"Go die, Char." I muttered.

"What was that?" Char was up prancing around the room, Slider in tow. He was more flexible than I would have imagined, he could certainly move his hips. I envied the untouched, unbelievable happiness glowing on his face.

"C'mon Harley, get up, don't be a poor sport."

"Suck my di-AH!"

His hands were warm as he grabbed mine, yanking me up from the couch. He spun me around, my sight blurred, Char's boisterous laughter and Slider barking at our feet were the only things clear to me.

I stayed stiff as a board as he danced me around the room, we were headed for the kitchen.

The spinning finally came to a stop as we arrived at the fridge.

Charles opened it, clamouring around in its depths before returning with a green jar.

"Drink up." His voice was slathered with pride as he poured me a glass of foul smelling liquid.

He handed me the pickle juice with a smirk.

I stared down at it.

"I'm not drinking this."

Charles laughing,

"Harley, you lost. It was our deal. C'mon."

"You wouldn't want to drink it either." I whined, still not making any motion to raise the cup to my lips.

"You can't chicken out now Harley. I won't let you."

He stepped closer with his words, and his voice dropped to a more serious and threatening tone.

I stepped back, but I met his challenging eyes.

"You can't make me." I taunted, my heart picked up speed as he moved even closer, his head dipped down closer to mine.

"You wanna bet?" He breathed, his white teeth flashed against his skin.

My pickle juice was poured on his head.

The smug smile disappeared from his lips, Char grimaced.

I was already across the kitchen, looking back at him with a grin.

I could smell it dripping from his hair, heehee, he was stunned.

But then he looked up, meeting my gaze.

His smile returned boldly, blinding me like a 140 Watt Lightbulb.

"Oh, you'll pay for that one Harley." His voice was in a low tone, but the moment my name was spoken, he lunged towards me.

I squealed and took off down the hall.

I didn't know where it led, but I found myself racing through the shadows.

I could hear Charles chasing me, the thought sent my heart hammering.

Fingers grazed my back, and he dove with the intention of tackling me.

I dodged, continuing to run despite the loud thud of his fall and the grunt following it.

I knew he would be up again soon, and the hall was coming to an end. I was drawn into the light from an open room.

I stumbled inside, panting as I took in the surroundings.

A bedroom.

I was soon ontop of the bed located inside,  Char had managed to tackle me this time.

There was struggling as I fought to get away and he fought to pin me down.

A scream snaked up my throat, he wasn't hurting me, but memories of Him came rushing back.

It almost came, like unwanted vomit. I could feel my body gathering air in my lungs, but the scream was quickly turned into something else.

Char was overtop of me, hands at my sides as he began to tickle me.

I thrashed, twisting and flailing with each touch, I threw my head back into the soft bed.

Laughter erupted  from me, the sound unfamilar to my ears.

Char laughed too, his hands not wandering anywhere but over my stomach. But I soon felt cold air against my skin.

Char's laughter was cut off, his hands quickly pulled away from my ribs.

"Hehehe, heh...?"  I stared up at him, measuring the strange expression on his face.

His eyes were on my now bared stomach.

The shirt had been pulled up in the confusion, now exposing my skin.

My purpled, bruised skin. Swollen and marked from past beatings, revealed for Charles to see. They weren't little welts either. They were horrific, disgusting. Painful.

He was quiet for a long time, I couldn't move.

I couldn't breath.

His eyes were fixated, but his mouth did fall open.

"Harley..."

•Running Forever•Where stories live. Discover now