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This is sebastian!

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I pushed out choked sobs. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to go out that night? If I just would've stayed home I would have never ended up here.

The man brought the belt down on my back again, hard, causing me to scream. Its only been a week since I've been here, I've been counting.

My exposed back stung with pain and blood dripped off of it, I was shivering. It's so cold down here. My wrists felt raw as the rope keeping them tied behind my back rubbed against my skin when I tried to pull them apart repeatedly.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled as he struck me again.

Why me? Why me?

The man threw his belt across the room, the buckle making a clanging noise when it hit the concrete. He walked out from behind me and kneeled down to my level on the floor.

"This is what happens when you don't listen, next time, it'll be much worse," he said, roughly grabbing my chin with his rugged calloused fingers, I flinched and he pulled my head up, holding it in place.

"Do you understand?!" He yelled. I nodded vigorously, more tears spilling out. I just want the pain to be over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you! What did you say?" He said gritting his teeth. My eyes widened realizing my mistake. He needs my verbal response.

"Yes Master, I understand! Please don't do anymore!"

He let go of me, pushing my head back causing me to almost fall but I remained on my knees.

"We're done here, for now, I'm going upstairs to prepare for my football Sunday party, make any noise and you're dead, I'll be back down later."

He stood up from his crouched position walking over to the metal door, opening it and exiting, the door making a beeping noise as it automatically locked shut, leaving me alone and shaking in the basement.

I shifted myself and laid on the freezing floor, the tears pooling out while I sobbed in pain and fear.

All I could think was those two words.

Why me?

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My body shoots up from bed covered in sweat. Tears continued to stream down my face from the horrible memories. The house was somewhat quiet, I must not have screamed during the night or my mom and brother who would be rushing in to console me.

I composed myself and wiped away my tears when I stood up from my bed. I decided to take a shower so I could clean up and calm down. After I finished I dressed in some tight jeans, a good looking maroon sweater and my Adidas shoes.

Slowly making my way downstairs I see my older brother Darryn sitting on the leather couch watching SpongeBob and eating a chocolate pop tart, my lovely mother was sitting next to him folding laundry and humming quietly.

"Morning" I mumble to them.

My mom, my brother and now my best friend Josh are the only people I speak to after I returned home, but even then I rarely spoke.

I was kidnapped when I was fourteen. I haven't been the same since.

I grabbed an apple from the glass bowl on the granite countertop and walked back into the living room. I never really eat much, usually just enough to settle my hunger. I'm probably already fat anyway, although I wouldn't really know because I never pay any attention to my body when I look into the mirror; I don't like seeing the scars from the time I was held captive.

Trauma  -BoyxBoy-Where stories live. Discover now