Mickey's Lessons on Bad

Lesson 15: Screw Peer Pressure!

       “Shut up, bitch.”

       She squeezed her eyes shut as tears began to form. She could feel warm, sticky liquid dripping onto the back of her neck. “Pl-Please, stop,” Michelle whimpered weakly in a whisper, opening her eyes. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them open to stare at the blurred image of Joshua.

       Lips attacked hers yet again, but this time, a tongue was roughly shoved into her mouth. Next thing she knew, her plaid shirt was pushed off her shoulders and her tank top was lifted over her chest, exposing a plain, black bra.

       A yelp of pain escaped Michelle’s lips when Joshua’s teeth dug deeply into her bottom lip. Why is no one coming here? It’s a school– Someone should be around to help! she thought to herself as slimy, cold hands climbed up and down her body, leaving an uncomfortable feeling. Suddenly, she was pushed up the wall and her head clashed against it yet again. That was what made Michelle release a howl of pain, but it was cut short when she was slapped across the face.

       Then, out of nowhere, Joshua was off of Michelle, allowing her to drop to the floor. She hunched over on the floor, struggling to force back tears.

       “Oh, Mickey… What are you doing here?” she vaguely heard Joshua ask. “Here to get a piece of action?”

       Wait, Mickey? Michelle lifted her head, catching the blurred image of Mickey holding Joshua up by the front of his shirt.

       “What were you doing to Michelle?” Mickey sneered, ignoring the questions.

       “Nothing, nothing. Just getting the girly’s legs open,” then Joshua added smugly, “for once.”

       “You’re such a loser, forcing yourself–”

       “Hey! You always told me that I could bang your ex–”

       “They were willing to fuck you, but she wasn’t.” A blurred hand was pointed in her direction. “It’s pathetic that you have to force yourself on a girl. Now, scram before the principal and police hears about your little, attempted rape incident.”

       Michelle blanked out the rest of the conversation as all the power in her disappeared. Her head dropped back down and she stared at the floor, grimacing. When a hand landed on her shoulder, she flinched and forced her head up to see a less blurred Mickey crouched in front of her.

       “Are you okay?” he whispered soothingly, his warm hand rubbing up and down her arm. He then pulled his hand away to fix her shirt so that it covered her chest again.

       “N-No,” she murmured, closing and opening her eyes repeatedly. “I’m… I’m sleepy, Mickey.”

       “Don’t fall asleep,” Mickey ordered, scooping her into his arms and standing up.

       Michelle placed a hand on his chest and rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He smells like pineapples, she mentally commented, nuzzling further against him. She could feel every step he took and it relaxed her even more.

       “Keep your eyes opened. I’m not sure what will happen if you…”

       Night, night.

 *

Throwing open her eyes, Michelle bolted up in her spot. The room around her was filled with white; white walls, white floors, white bed, and so on. Her hands clenched and unclenched a silky fabric as she continued to look around. “Where am I?” the question left her lips without her realizing it.