Blue Sheep || ONGOING

Chapter 10

Viridity;

Naive innocence.

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[WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT]

His powerful, masculine hands slowly and maliciously wrapped around her fragile waist. A deep pain of sorrow clenched her heart, her mother's voice rang in her ears; "My beautiful angel,  protect yourself,"  

Every one of his fingers felt like the root of a tree, sunken in deep into her skin. The kind of tree, not even the strongest lumberjack could pull out. She felt his breath on her neck, and then his lips, sucking on her skin. She winced, "I-I changed my mind," 

Listening to his whispers of false comfort made Charise tenser. It was clear his mind remained unaffected. A herd of bugs began creeping from where he landed his first kiss, and she screamed in terror and agony as they dug their fangs into her flesh.

Pleading, she cried. "NO!" but he didn't seem to care, his lips trailing down her decollete, his brutal force pushing her onto the ivory bed.

Mockingly, he laughed. "You asked for this, remember?" the sound of his voice had trailed down below her breasts.

Each gasp for air felt like her last, the roaches swarmed through her body like a hurricane. Their fat, ugly bodies caressing her gentle skin, forever dirtying it. 

Eating away at her purity, she tried to fight one more time. One more push, one more scream, and maybe this will all be over. But it wasn't.

Savagely, he cuffed hands around her wrists and pressed them to the black bed sheets. She was chained, like a prisoner, locked in this broken body that didn't feel hers anymore. 

Crying, a basic human emotion, suddenly became difficult. Her mind had given up any sense of hope she had. She let her body go limp. The bugs took advantage of this, crawling into every part of her, spreading like a disease, killing any feeling of humanity left in her.

All she could feel was numbness now, as though the world around her wasn't real anymore. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. 

Pulsing through her veins was nothing but pure blood, the adrenaline that had once been there to help her break free, to resist any harm, had disappeared.

Eyes shut, she could feel as they began to swell with tears again. The pitch-black scene blurred, and she slowly began to lose the feeling of all her limbs. 

~*~

She woke up, gasping for air.

Her fists clenched tightly. She felt the pain of her nails as the seized into her skin, and she felt a wave of reassurance go over her. 

The sun was shining through the oval windows. For once, it was comforting. Typically, Charise would groan and try to fall asleep again, but this time it had saved her from a reoccurring nightmare.

She carefully slipped out from underneath the crimson blanket that Jason covered her with last night. The faint smell of smoke still deeply rooted in its' threads.

Had she really called asleep on the airplane?

Her cheeks burned as she neatly folded the blanket and put it back on the red, leather seat. Am I really this disgraceful? Why didn't he wake me up? She glanced around in search of Jason, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Jason?" she called out, examining the buttons and levers that were all strategically placed behind the windscreen. She ran her fingers on the mystery machine. 

Charise strolled through the cockpit, examing the wooden cabinets Maple, perhaps? that bordered the door that most likely lead to the washroom. A childish part of her wanted to open them, as though they were going to reveal some big, hidden secret when in reality, all she would probably find were some canned beans and maybe a couple of books. Sherlock Holmes maybe? Jason looks like the kind to read mystery.

"Jason?" she called out again, a little louder and alarmed this time.

She heard as the cockpit door opened. "Morning. Sorry, I went to grab some coffee."

Jason was standing near the exit with two carmine mugs. His damp, dark-brunette hair caressed the tips of his ears and touched his brows, sending a few tiny droplets of water down the side of his face. He was dressed in a vermilion linen shirt and dark grey club shorts. You didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to see the sculpted body underneath. 

"Coffee?" he offered. "I didn't know whether you liked it with cream or sugar-"

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Charise interrupted, feeling as though a clot was forming in her throat. She brushed down her skirt, feeling her palms getting sweaty. Danny must be worried. Mum must be worried-

"You were tired, I thought it was better to let you sleep." he sounded almost apologetic.

"I-I need to go," Charise muttered quickly. She walked past Jason, avoiding his perplexed look. "I-I can't just leave like this. My family must be worried about me. This was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Charise!" she heard him call from the airplane, but she ignored him. A deep sense of guilt and uneasiness grew inside of her, like a weed that drained the carefree flower. This is unacceptable - I'm unacceptable.

She stepped onto the fresh, morning grass and felt as her brisk walk turned into a jog. Tears filled her eyes to the very brim, and she began weeping. This is Jason Sawyer, he's a good man, he's kind, he showed you the world, why do you have to see the worst?

Charise ran down the dirt road. Dust flecks clutched to her skirt, pebbles bouncing around the soles of her feet. Her knees began to feel tired, she wasn't made for running.

She refused to let her body stop. 

She ran until she couldn't see the field anymore. 

So much for "endless fields", huh?

The sound of a loud engine made Charise jump. She whipped around and saw a well-known blue car parked a few feet away. Danny.

Using the last of her energy, Charise hurried over to the passenger's side and knocked vociferously on the glass. The car clicked and she slipped in, panting, as though she had just run away from a cold-blooded killer. 

"Cherry, are you... okay?" her brother's face was a painting of sheer distress. Something was wrong. Something was wrong the moment she came back home.

"Danny, what's going on?" she asked quietly, almost silently, but she knew that Danny heard her.