I'm so sorry for taking so long, I wrote this chapter like 5 times till I was finally convinced! I really hope you enjoy it!
Wishing you a great weekend,
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Dad had a lot of friends; he was the social, outgoing one. Though he changed a hundred and eighty degrees when he returned home.
His best friend was my worst nightmare.
David Flynn was my father's age; he had dark blonde hair, and the eyes of the devil. I liked him a lot until that day.
I was nine.
Dad threw a party for David at our apartment; I think it was a birthday or a promotion or something.
Dad told me not to get out of the room,
But I did, I was thirsty.
I snuck into the kitchen right behind the counter; my body bent into a catlike position.
"Busted," David said while peeking at me from the other end of the kitchen counter. He grinned at me.
"Hey, David," I replied, still in my position.
"Hey, Chlo," he said.
"So you're not going to tell Dad, are you?"
"How old am I, nine?" David said, mocking me.
I laughed then realized it was a loud one. I cupped my mouth with my hands.
David laughed at my reaction, "I doubt Will heard you, it's crazy outside," he said, pointing at party at the balcony.
"I hope so, I just wanted to get some water," I replied.
"Wait, why do you have to stay in your room?"
"I don't know."
"Come on, let me keep you company," he told me.
"Thank you! Wait, you haven't seen my room yet, right?" I asked him.
"Nope, let me see the mess!"
"It isn't messy!" I told him defensively.
I looked around the apartment and at the balcony through the window to see if it was safe and ran to the room, David strolling behind me.
I entered my room with the biggest grin.
"What do you think?" I asked him.
He studied the room, white walls, white curtains, a wooden floor. My desk was at the right side of the room, next to the bathroom. The closet was on the far left, and windows at the back of the room.
"I think it really suits you, it's pretty and tidy, you don't see that a lot," he told me.
"So it isn't messy, then!"
"Nope, you got me!"
He approached me, "Nice jacket," he said.
It was gray with sequences and crystals all over it. I loved it.
"Thank you," I replied.
"Maybe the top's even better," He told me, he touched the zipper.
I moved, I was just wearing my plain, white, sleeveless undershirt.
"No, David!" I told him, laughing.
"Why not?" he said while laughing.
"Because!"
"Because what? Come on I'm a doctor!!" he replied, still laughing. The wall next to the door was right behind me.
He pinned to the wall and my and unzipped the jacket.
"Take it off," he ordered me, pointing at the undershirt. He looked serious this time.
"No, David, I don't want to," I replied; my voice was shaky, and my hands were trembling yet solid. What got into him?
"When I tell you to do something, you do it," he told me between gritted teeth.
"I can't do it."
He then unbuttoned my jean trousers...
"David, please, no!"
He covered my mouth with one hand...
What he did to me was sick. Disgusting.
He threatened me not to tell anyone.
His threat was terrifying.
I never told anyone after that, not my Dad, not the school counselor, not anyone.
And it was too late to tell anyone because no one would believe me, since I needed serious psychological help.
But the sickest thing was that he was still Dad's best friend. I didn't see him that often, but I did see him once and threw up...
David Flynn disgusted me.
David Flynn was a monster.