bruised » malik-payne.

eleven.

{I'm falling down, if you could only save me, I'm drowning in the waters of my soul}

*

It was dark, the vapour heavy and thick, the sweat all over his face, a rough material covering his mouth suffocating him. His hands tied up behind his back, a very sharp pain at the side of his head telling him he had been beaten.

-Come on! -a male voice shouts as he feels a gross and hard grip around his arm, he can't see anything, the smell of the alcohol waking up his nostrils. The moon wasn't there this night, the window open as the wind comes in. His eyes trying to get used to the darkness but it was impossible.

The man makes him stand on his feet, his legs trembling as he feels the slow breathes in front of him, they were so close, so close of his lips. The white hands fighting for freedom, the heart trying not to explode.

-Beautiful.-a hand is felt in his cheek, he flinches automatically.-Beautiful eyes.-how disgusting.

The big hand going to his skinny waist trying to bring him closer among his arms. The lad produces a strong sound from the back of his throat, a sound of disgust, a pained one. He didn't want this.

-I'm going to release you if you don't move.-he just nods.

Once his hands were free and without thinking he let his hands do whatever they wanted to do. And it was a wrong idea because one of them slapped someone... and he freezes in the moment. He had hit the man.

-You idiot! -there suddenly were a pair of hands on both of his wrists, his back colliding with the mattress under his weight and he was already on the bed of a room from his own house, a heavy body onto him and he couldn't talk, just makes his throat hurt with all the yells he was producing.

His skinny frame being forced to stay quiet due to man sitting on his hips, he could feel his arm's tendons spraining, his ribs showing with each deep breathe, his eyes going red and watery. The drops of sweat making his thin clothes glue to his legs and abdomen.

-Hey, hey pretty boy, don't cry.-a voice full of irony and contempt.-Come here.-the lad's eyes wide in fear and desperation not knowing how to handle the situation he doesn't want to go through. He can feel something tiding both of his wrists and then... he realizes he can't move, he couldn't move. His arms secured to the arms of the bed, he was totally exposed to the person who was there. Nothing could have done.

His eyes focusing newly when he sees the metallic shine being taken by one of the big hands. His voice cracking again as he tries to pronounce words but it was senseless.

-Be quiet, you stupid boy! -and the burning sensation on his cheek is present, his legs stopping brutally, his hands transforming in two small balls making him claw into his own palm with force. The man, whose name was unknown by himself, had hit him.-Breathe, you will need it.-and with that, the razor went to his t-shirt, cutting and tearing it apart like a dirty fabric, just for his fragile abdomen to be hit by the cold air of the environment.

He hadn't noticed he had stopped breathing, it was the fear, the emptiness, the disgust, he didn't know what was inside of him, he was scared. His lungs just trying to recover when something is prohibiting him from inhale oxygen. His body going crazy, moving in any direction, his arms almost dislocating from his shoulders, his legs hitting the wooden of the bed producing thuds around the room. The pressure of his throat getting stronger, the dangerous thing around his neck is hurting him like when a sandpaper polishes a wooden.

His once innocent eyes now were only two dark gems full of fear and abuse, the blurry vision overshadowing everything around him. His face red like a tomato and he felt like he was about to explode.