Trauma -BoyxBoy-

Sixteen

"Brought the bitch in!" Chip yelled happily. I kept my eyes to the front staring at the game, trying not to make my situation worse, I was already on thin ice.

I heard a beer cap pop open behind me and hollering as the Steelers made a touchdown.Viscous slapped me on the back of my head, "go get some more chips slut,"

I responded with the expected yes sir and went into the kitchen again. I looked back out the window as I passed and the deer was still there, along with another one. I stared for a minute but decided to grab the chips before I got caught.

I retrieved them and as I was walking back I heard boo's from the couch, the Steelers got a foul, and the game went downhill from there.

With a minute and a half left on the timer before half time, one of their best players got injured and had to be taken out of the game. The Patriots scored a touchdown right after, and then another. They were sixteen to twenty-one when halftime started, and the men were pissed, especially Hardhead.

I felt him move forward on the couch and with one hand he grabbed a fist full of my hair again and turned me to face him, using the other hand to unzip his jeans. I frowned knowing what was coming...

"You know what to do" he muttered angrily, and I did. So I reluctantly went to work, I had no other choice if I wanted to survive here and make it out alive, however, I'm not sure if I have any hope anymore.

After I was forced to swallow... everything they made me do the same to everybody else, and once I finally made my way to the last one; Vicious, I was trying not to throw up.

As usual, he was the roughest one. He held a clump of my hair and pushed my head down as far as it could go, keeping it there until tears formed because I couldn't breathe.

And then I was given a break to go clean up. I passed through the kitchen again.The deer were gone.

I washed my face and gurgled water through my mouth multiple times, spitting out any leftover residue and I searched the cabinets for some mouth wash to get the taste away and clean anything left, I didn't find any though so I left to go back to the living room.

The Steelers were still losing when I got back, their voices cheering for them and rooting for them to pull back ahead, chugging of beer cans and bottles.

Secretly I was rooting for them in my head as well, because if they won I wouldn't get beat as hard.

"Go back in there," Hardhead grunted pointed behind him at the kitchen, "I don't want to see you right now"

I thanked him subconsciously, going back into the kitchen and sliding down the cabinets. I hate being here so much. Why can't the cops find me already?

I leaned my head backwards and shut my eyes, trying to get rid of their yelling. Maybe I should fill the sink and throw the toaster in it and hope to get electrocuted to death. That would be better than this hellhole.

I almost fell asleep until I was awoken by loud shouting and a crash. I stood up quickly to hide the fact that I was 'slacking' and stood wide-eyed confused at what was going on.

"GOD DAMN IT!" I heard echo throughout the rooms, along with viscous' voice yelling for me to get in there. I quickly entered the room to see many variations of the same emotion; anger.There were shards from a shattered beer bottle scattered on the rug and the concrete, spilled chips along with and drops of salsa on the coffee table. Hardhead pulled a pack of cigarettes off of the table, his eyebrows pulled down softly. I heard a sigh of discontent. Cursing.So I looked toward the TV.