A Promise Gone Wrong

Chapter Thirty: Empty, Dark, Silent

{Trigger Warning: sexual assault}
•°•COMMENT along as you read•°•

++
+++Cameron+++
++

Why?

Why me?

Those are my first two thoughts as I unwillingly return to consciousness.

"Hey, wake up," Jack murmurs, pressing against one of my arms.

"You've been sleep since we got back from school yesterday," Cody adds. "Your mom told us to make sure you got up before we left. She already headed out with Luke and your aunt is at the hospital visiting your dad."

Sitting up too fast makes my head throb. Thankfully my curtains are closed and keeping out the light. With a hard sigh, I rub my hands over my face and notice my knuckles are bruised from fighting yesterday.

"Are you hungover?" Jack asks, his eyebrows pinching the center of his forehead.

Not sure what the answer is I choose to say nothing as I slip out of my bed. He steps aside exchanging looks of concern with Cody while I pass by them to the bathroom. I didn't bother checking to see if I was naked or not. Flipping a switch, I see I've only got on a pair of boxer briefs. The rest of my skin exposed.

There are no marks but my skin is crawling, tingling like a limb that's fallen asleep.

Behind me, Jack and Cody are debating whether or not I snuck out last night to some party and got wasted. I don't bother easing their suspicions. What they're saying is better than the truth. Better than my fucking reality.

Meeting the eyes of my reflection, I just stare into their blue. Feeling as void and empty as each iris appears. Dull.

Please tell me it was just a nightmare.

Please tell me I went out somewhere after cooking my mom's dinner and got so trashed I just imagined it.

With a clenched jaw, I think about Rebecca and hope to her God I didn't cheat. Didn't let that witch I call my aunt lay a single god damn finger on my skin. Hoping what happened to me before didn't just happen again.

It couldn't have.

Everyone was coming home. There wouldn't have been enough time. Mom didn't wake me up to lecture me about fighting, so I couldn't have been here.

Right?

Fuck, I have to check.

I need to know.

Holding my breath and gripping the edge of my sink so hard it hurts, I close my eyes and clear my thoughts. When I open them again, I tug the front of my boxers from my lower stomach stretching the fabric as far as it can go. Eyes scanning, a wave of relief eases tension in my shoulders when I don't see what I'm searching for. Her signature. But, I'm uncircumcised and flaccid.

Anticipation sends my heart racing as I reach in and give a slight tug.

With the release of a soft grunt, my spirit snaps matching the elastic sound of my boxers as they smack into their place around my hips; concealing her red lipstick stain.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I grip the sink harder than before. Only some memories return. Moans. Slurps. My inability to move. Her greedy hands and mouth on my flesh before I blacked out.

A surge of acid rages up my esophagus so fast I don't even bother running to the toilet. Muscle shuddering, I repeatedly and mercilessly hurl into the sink. Trembling. Coughing. Groaning when it feels like my throat is being shredded by razors.