Match-Made For You

| E I G H T E E N | Weak.

| E I G H T E E N | Weak.

Trigger Warning: Rape, sexual abuse. Read at your own discretion. If you are Triggered by any of this I advise you skip to the next chapter.

He yanks off his shirt as my head spins, I fall back onto the bed, not able to hold up my own weight anymore. I can feel his hands slip under my legs and place them on the bed. He swings one leg over my body and gets on top of me, pinning me down on the hard mattress.

I start to writhe under his body, attempting to get out of his hold. He sits back on my legs, and leans over me, grabbing my arms and forcing them down on the mattress.

"Get off of me." I try to kick my legs, but it's no use. He's too heavy for me to even do anything.

He grins again, leaning down to bring his lips to mine, but stopping when his lips barely brush mine. "Myles can't have you all to himself, now. He's gotta share." His lips slam against mine sloppily. He tastes of beer, a lot of beer. He forces my lips open, slipping his tongue into my mouth. His hands come away from mine, tangling them selves in my hair--

I bite down on his tongue.

"Ah, fuck!" He jumps up, his hands flying to his mouth.

My eyelids start to lower. No. I thought, I am not going to pass out. No. I throw my hands up to slap him, my fingernails scratching his face in the act. Three red lines stretch from his ear to his nose. Blood trickles out of his mouth and his cheek, dripping down into my face.

I tasted blood in my mouth, bitter blood. "Get the fuck off me." I spat, pushing at him.

He grabs my hands that try and push him off of me, "I been tryin' to get you for a while now, miss Lyla Adams." he sneers. He wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, lowering his face to mine, his breath tickling my skin when he whispered, "You're gonna fucking regret that shit." 

My eyes widened when he slaps me. My head flying back into the bed with such force. My cheeks tingle, and his hand flies to my throat, closing tightly around my neck as he unbuttons my shirt. Gutter-like noises escapes my mouth, as I struggle to breathe. Shallow air comes in and out of my mouth. I scratch at his hand, trying to unwrap it from my throat. His hands pull my pants down, freezing me in place.

"S-stop..." I manage to say in between breaths.

The air I'm getting isn't enough. My head pounds, and my body won't move anymore, black spots dance in my vision, making reality blurry. I hear his zipper come down. No. Please, no. Tears threaten to spill onto my face, blurring my vision even more so than whatever he slipped into my drink. I curse myself for ever following him into this room, for ever trusting him enough to be alone with him for even a second. I can't move, my hands relax, the only thing I can move is my eyes now. I cough repeatedly.

I felt weak, I couldn't move. My body was pinned under his. I wasn't strong enough. 

"Shut the hell up!" he yells, striking my face again. 

I can't feel anything anymore, I barely felt the stinging in my whole face. I'm numb to everything that's happening. I can't move, can't speak, can barely breathe. The music playing in the house is the only thing I can hear anymore. I was fighting to stay awake. Whatever he had put in my drink was acting fast.

"Finally got you all to myself." He mumbles, taking a condom out of his pocket.

Why did't I just look for Myles my damn self?

The tears that threatened to spill over, finally did. My body shook with sobs, I tried to bring my hands up to wipe my face but I couldn't. I pleaded with God to save me from this. No one could hear me.

I screamed, and screamed. Hoping that someone would hear me, it was no use. No one would be able to hear my screams over the loud music and yelling that was going on all around us. 

"Please," I murmured, barely able to hear myself anymore, "please don't do this. Leave me alone..."

I feel one last hot tear fall down my cheek, and the black spots become bigger. I can't see anything but the white wall covered in posters. I blink, but when I come to open my eyes, they stayed closed. My brain starts to shut off once whatever he put in my drink takes over me completely.

***

Sorry about this more triggering and sad chapter. I feel so bad for Lyla in these moments because she was so scared and afraid and definitely did not deserve this. Although I am not a rape, or sexual abuse survivor. I feel for her and hope that no one has to go through this ever. <3

-Arrow