The Trapped

47

47

- B L A I R E -

11.18.16 // 3:37 p.m.

"WAKEY WAKEY, my sweet one," T chirps from above me and my eyes snap open. T is grinning down at me with those cracked, pale lips and I scoot over a little, trying to create as much distance between us possible. "I have something for you."

He grins like a crazed fool and pulls out an envelope from his back pocket. I reach for it, but he pulls back his hand and raises the envelope above his head.

     "Don't get so excited, Rose. You aren't going to want to see this," he growls. I gulp nervously and he eyes me warily before handing me the note. I turn it over, examining it carefully. My name and a few small hearts are written in perfect calligraphy on the front.

I rip it open with greedy hands and T stares at me with a wicked grin on his face. I begin to read it and every word feels like a pebble being thrown at my head, small yet very painful.

Dear Blaire,

I have re-written this letter maybe four times. I knew it would take a long time to write to someone like you. Someone who's personality I couldn't put into words.

Let's start from the beginning. You never even knew I existed. You were always like the bullet whizzing through the hallways in our school and I was one of your many victims you hit.

Over time, things got harder for me and seeing you... all perfect and happy all the time, I didn't want to live anymore. I was in your position, kidnapped by T, confused and lost. I know you're scared, I know you're feeling helpless, but it's how you deserve to feel, Blaire.

You don't know what it's like to struggle, do you? You don't know what it's like to feel the world crumbling beneath your feet. You sat by me so many times in school, and I bet you never even thought that the person sitting right by you was going through something she couldn't control.

I knew the whole time about T and him kidnapping you. I knew everything, but I told no one because I was in your place awhile ago and I made a promise that I wouldn't tell anyone about what happened to me. But, after T killed Yvette Rona (someone who helped faked your death), I couldn't continue to keep living this life anymore. I keep telling myself you, of all people, deserve this.

But, Blaire, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself that I hated you. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself you were such a monster, I couldn't do it.

Blaire, I love you. Well, loved you. I'm dead now. Gone, deceased, free from the stress and worries of the world.

So, Blaire, if you're wondering why I wrote this letter to you it's because I think you deserve to know me, Sarah Longthorn, a girl who had an obsession with you and a girl you will never get to know.

I'm sorry, for everything.

- Sarah Longthorn

I drop the note on the floor and watch with wet eyes as it flutters soundlessly to the ground. My heart feels as if it has been pulled out of my chest. Hot tears fall from my eyes, burning my cheeks and landing on my shaking hands. T is staring at me intently, an amused smile playing on his lips and dancing across his eyes.

     "You're sick. This isn't a joke!" I cry as I pull on my hair. "A girl killed herself because of me."

      "This wasn't your fault, Rose," T whispers, scooting closer to me and smoothing down my hair. I swat his hand away and look at him through angry eyes.

      "I'm not Rose! My name is Blaire, Blaire Hawthorn. Stop calling me Rose!" I shout as I wipe away my tears that wouldn't stop falling. Horror flashes through T's eyes and he begins to shake with anger.

      "You are Rose! Don't ever say that again," he barks, taking one of my hands and squeezing tightly. "You're Rose." He closes his eyes, as if he was trying to convince himself of something that isn't true.

      "Let go of me! I'm not Rose," I croak as he continues to squeeze my hand, my knuckles turning white. "Stop, you're hurting me!"

He let's go abruptly and scrambles to get on top of me as I continue to let out ear-piercing cries.

      "I'm so sorry, Rose. Let me make it up to you. Let me make you feel better," he whispers as his tongue licks my neck, his thin fingers curling in my hair. I struggle against him, I push and I cry and beg for him to stop. "This isn't your fault," he says.

A girl is dead.

I close my eyes as T's rough fingers pull at my hair, his lips crashing down onto mine. I don't move, I just scream and scream and scream.

She killed herself.

T's face lights up with power and lust. The next thing I know, he is pulling at my clothes and tying my hands above my head.

It was my fault.

He becomes angry when I don't kiss him back. His hands turn rough as he touches me, his skin burning everywhere on my body.

I should have noticed her. I should have talked to her.

He forces my legs apart. I'm dizzy, everything is becoming a blur above me. His grunts and my weak cries is the only thing I am able to hear. Everything is hurting, hurting so badly.

I should have done something.

Tears fall from my eyes and T licks them off with his slimy tongue. He moves forcefully above me, my body is numb, I can't feel anything.

Maybe I do deserve this after all.

The last blurry image I am able to make out is T zipping his pants up and a sheen layer of sweat covering his pale skin. Then I lay as still as a corpse, barely breathing at all as my body finally shuts down.

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that was very difficult to write. it is such a serious topic and i am sorry for anyway who has gone through something like that. thanks for reading. pls vote and comment:)  sorry for the errors, i will edit later.

-jayymckenziee