Punch...

Punch...

Punch...

Eyes closing...

Nose dripping blood...

Unconscious...

That's what my school days consisted of. Every day the exact same. I knew the cycle off by heart. Why do I apologise each time and expect them to be nice? I just wish I could forget about this life. This seemingly endless cycle. But dreams don't come true.

I couldn't tell anyone about what was happening at school. My family would tell me to fight back. I'm too weak and I've never fought before. My school don't care what the students do. All they care about is money. If I said anything, they'd tell me It would be dealt with but It never would. Even if they listened, I'd still be bullied. Just by more people. I'd be a snitch.

To help me get through the days, I would think of a memory from my childhood.

Snow scattered across the Earth. It touched my skin, softly. I lay in the fluffy white ice. Frozen and cold, but calm. My mittens gently caressed my fingers. Warming them with their touch. It felt good. I got up from the snow, my boots making it crunch. I knelt down and collected enough snow to make a little ball. I began rolling it around until it formed a much larger ball. I repeated this twice and assembled them into the body of a snowman. My fingers felt numb. Snow made it the mittens wet, stopping them from bringing me heat. I took some stones and a carrot out of my pocket and placed them on the figure. Eyes, nose, mouth, buttons. I stared at it, smiling brightly.

I've always loved that memory. It reminds me of simpler times when I didn't have to worry about what I'd say to my family when they say the blood and bruises that covered me. Times when I could stop thinking and just relax. I truly miss those times.

A person standing over me?

They're picking me up...

Go back to sleep now, Mikaela...

I'm awake. Where am I? It's dark. This isn't school. I'm somewhere else.

A boy walks in with hair as black as night and cold grey eyes. But what scared me the most was the sickening grin smeared on his face. It sent a chill down my spine. The room was silent until I heard him say "I want to see you bleed. The thought of your fresh blood turns me on~"

My eyes widened. I wriggled and squirmed. I was tied to a pole with rope. Each step made my heart stop longer every few seconds. I was petrified. Was this it?

Behind his back he held a switchblade. He removed it from behind him and lunged at me. He slashed my legs, my arms my clothes through to my chest. It hurt. He started to punch me. My glasses flew to the side.

Make it stop.

He continued to hit me.

Make it stop!

He hit me harder.

MAKE IT STOP.

He hit me again. I hit my head on the floor.

MAKE IT STOP!

I got a final punch. It knocked me out.

I woke up once again. He was on top of me, his lips shaped into a pout. I stared at him, worried he was mad that I went unconscious and would hit me again. He muttered "I'm not gonna be that hard on you if you're just gonna pass out. It was so boring when you were asleep."

I looked at him, shocked. I thought he'd just continued beating me after I blacked out. I didn't realize he stopped to take care of me. He had reminded me of being at school. Being bullied and tortured just because of my appearance. I believed he was the same but now, somehow, this felt different. This felt more special. Maybe he heard my cries for help and decided to rescue me from that hellhole. Maybe he understood how I felt. Maybe being here was a blessing in disguise? Did he just let his strange, masochistic ways take over and fester his brain. Beforehand, all I felt was fear around him. But now I feel something different. There's no fight or flight response. I just feel calm, and maybe even happy. "Ya know, you're kinda hot without your glasses~" he said, coming closer to my face.

Blood rushed to my cheeks as I felt his hot breath touch my cold skin. His lips looked so soft. I saw his ear piercings and it made my heart beat faster. This time in a good way. "Shut up." I murmured, looking away from him.

He grabbed my chin and turned my face to look at him. "In situations like this, that response usually means the opposite. I bet you like it when I get close like this~"

His lips got closer to my ear. I could hear his small breaths. My body quivered under his. I was a mere slave to his words. His tongue glided down my helix, slowly. His lips pressed on either side of my lobe and he began to suck. I could hear his quiet sucks and moans. They were sensual and erotic. He moved down to my neck and left small but noticeable love bites. I started to lay down on the floor, his body moved with me as he stayed close to my neck. With each bite, my member grew harder. It begged for his touch. I begged for it too.

He moved away from my neck and gave me a sexier version of his psychotic smile. His lips moved closer to mine. They lingered an inch away for a few seconds until they retreated. I knew he was teasing me. If this had happened with anyone else I would've gotten mad and ran away. But with him, it turned me on. I wanted him to keep teasing me. I wanted him to look into my eyes with his grey irises. I bit my lip, asking for more but all he did was get up and walk away.

After coming to my senses, I put a hand to my chest. My heart was racing. I longed to feel his touch again.

Is this love?