Prep to Punk » MC

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» Taylor's POV «

"Wh-Why are you doing this?" I quietly cried as Bill ripped my pants down.

"Your parents need to learn from their mistake, and you are the perfect way to make them do that." He smirked.

"Stop struggling!" He raised his voice.

I didn't stop, though, as I realized my phone was in my back pocket so maybe I could call someone... But who? These guys have had about 10 more people around the house and they'd be able to tell if I had called the police.

"Tie her down." He growled to someone. They yanked my arms away from my body and tied my wrists against the headboard. Luckily, they hadn't taken off my shirt so they won't see my self inflicted cuts and scars.

My feet were also pulled to either corner of the bed, making my legs open an uncomfortable amount.

"There's other people in line, just shove your dick in there already." The guy shouted.

The pressure between my hips was pain and only pain as I felt him thrust in and out. Iy wasn't long before I passed out from being overwhelmed.

»»»»»

I woke up to the sound of shouting.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!" Bill demanded.

I quickly sat up and winced deeply at the pain that shot through my entire body.

"Go get ready for school. Now!" He loud ordered.

I got up and went to my room as fast as I could. As soon as I shut my door, the tears poured out of my eyes and my knees slowly gave out. I crawled to my mirror and took in my appearance. I looked absolutely horrible. My whole body was covered in bruises, my neck had multiple hickies, and it looked like I hadn't slept in days. Wait, why would someone give me hickies while I'm passed out anyways? Ugh.

Pealing me eyes away from the mirror, I went to the closet. For some reason, I felt like if I wore what I wanted to, I'd get in trouble, so I dressed like I would if I was still a cheerleader. I pulled out grey leggings, a pink hoodie, white tank top, and black converses. Quickly, I changed and brushed my hair. I knew that no matter what I did, makeup wouldn't help so I didn't bother with my face.

I got my phone out of the pocket of the pants I wore yesterday and went down stairs. There were multiple men and a few strippers down there, so I hurried out the door.

I checked my phone and saw that the guys had called and texted multiple times, asking if I was okay, saying they were worried since none of them could get ahold of me. I decided that I'd tell them at school that my phone had died.

I walked all the way there with my head down, consumed in my thoughts.

Luckily, I made it to my first class without anyone stopping me.

I kept my head down in hopes that the guys weren't already in here. My hopes vanished when I heard them take notice to me as I sat down.

"Why didn't you answer us last night? We were worried!" Michael exclaimed.

"My phone d-died." I stuttered, ignoring the pain I got in my throat as I spoke.

There was a moment of silence.

"Then why did all of the calls go through?" Calum asked suspiciously.

Why the hell didn't I think of that? Without even realizing it, my hands went under the desk and I started scratching my cuts open.

"O-oh. I don't know..." I said without raising my head up.

"Why won't you look up?" Ashton asked with curiously lacing his voice.

"I slept wrong and it hurts to lift my head." Was my reaction. Jeez, that makes no sense. What was I gonna say? 'I don't want you to see my bruises and if I have to move anymore I'm going to cry'?

"If you keep looking down its just gonna make it worse." Luke stated.

I sighed. "Then I guess I'll have to deal with it." I growled.

"What is your problem? Your didn't answer our calls, you keep lying, you're barely speaking, and you won't even look at us!!" Calum exclaimed.

I lost my cool at that.

My head snapped up at them and I didn't even take a second to look at their reactions. "I have my fucking reasons, okay? I have my fucking reasons for not answering your calls, or talking, or looking at you! You're so far up each others asses you don't even realize that maybe I'm dealing with my own personal problems!" I snapped and walked out of the room.

I continued walking out of the school building and towards my house. I don't even know why I'm going there. I know I'm going to get hurt, but I deserve that pain, right? I deserve to be beaten and raped every night.

As soon as I walked in the door, many heads shot towards me while I kept my gaze at my feet.

"Why are you home?" Bill asked quietly, too quietly.

"I-I..." What do I say? Do I lie? "I got sick and the nurse sent me home."

"Why were you sick?" He stood up and started towards me.

"I don't know." I shut the door behind me.

"You don't know?" He smirked.

"N-No." I shook my head.

He chuckled. "Then I guess I'll have to teach you." He whispered, dangerously close to my face.

Before I could process his words, I felt pain, more pain, then I saw blackness.