Peaches

Nineteen

M A T U R E A U D I E N C E S O N L Y
18+

Locked away in dreams filled with vivid pictures of my assault, it seemed as though there was no escape. The nightmares were all too real, tangible even. I could smell the strong aftershave, I could feel the painful pinch of his forceful grip as he handled me. A putrid stain left in my mind, so prominent that my dreams weren't even my own.

"Wake your ass up girl. You can't be laying in bed all day. We got things to do." Chris's hand held to my ankle, shaking it gently.

I didn't feel right, nothing felt right. My head was a mess, and my bones felt like mush, but there was no way I would let it show. I could say that I felt a small comfort wash over me, remembering how genuine he was just a few hours ago in the shower. "I'll do whatever I want." I mumbled into the pillow with a sly smile.

He gave me a warning tug, yanking me down in the bed. "You think so, sweetheart?"

"Hey!" I yelped out, kicking my foot out of his grip.

He glared back at me as I sat myself up, flipping my hair back behind my shoulders to reveal my naked chest.

"You wanna try talking to me nice?" I really couldn't deny the fact that it was just absolutely delightful to bicker with him. Truthfully, I craved his attention in any form, and I would do a lot to get it. Even if it meant getting him irritated enough to fuck me. Anything just to feel his touch that would satisfy the desire to be loved by him.

With a boyish grin, he dropped his shoulders and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. "Your breakfast is gettin' cold. Can ya just get up?"

"What'd you make?" I ripped the covers off of me and slid off the bed.

"Does it matter?" His distracted eyes looked over my naked legs as he spoke. Practically popping a boner at first sight.

"I'm hungry of course it matters. If you made me something nasty like pancakes I'm going right back to bed."

He gripped his chest in shock, jaw nearly falling to the floor upon hearing my opinion on the food. "What is wrong with you? You don't like pancakes?"

"Did you make them?" I glared, stuffing my feet into my silky pink shorts. "Cause I'm telling you right now-"

"I didn't make no damn pancakes, you brat. Get your ass out there before Candy eats it all." He glared back, leaning against my dresser. "Didn't know you felt so passionately about pancakes of all things."

"It's too soggy." I pulled open my door, peering down the hall into the living room. I could only see her feet, crossed daintily over each other. "Candy's still here?"

"Yes, come hang out with me." She called from the couch.

As I strode out, I noticed Candy was sprawled out on the couch, sitting topless in her bra. The contents of her purse scattered over the coffee table, along with the baggies containing remnants of the cocaine we had done last night.

We exchanged a brief look, one that screamed a warning that only Candy would understand. She knew not to leave that lying around, leaving it so obviously out in the open.

Take a hint and put it away.

"Kitchen." Chris commanded, noticing my wide eyes directed at Candy.

"What's the matter?" I asked stepping into the kitchen behind him.

"Were you gonna tell me that y'all fucked around with coke yesterday?" He leaned forward with his elbows balanced on the countertop. "I knew you were high as a kite, I just didn't think it was blow. Could've sworn you were on downers."