hullohannah45
She couldn't object.
His hands were like clamps. They were sweaty, hot. Crisp against her olive skin. Like irons, they steamed and flattened her body against that rotting oak tree. The screams were laughter in his ears. Bells. Just instrumentals to the pleasured task he breathed. The girl was underneath his bulbous weight and could not snake her joints from the fat that compressed her already watered-down entrails. His sweat and her tears mingled like old friends.
Old friends. That's what they had been. He was the fat boy, the awkward. She was the pretty girl, the tender fawn who was nice enough to lend him a hand in friendship. The only one. If only she had known. If she had only seen the hunger in his eyes whenever she looked away. But he was always looking. Always lusting. The girl was as loving as she had always been, a Snow White and a Huntsman. But this boy was not eating her alive for someone else. His pleasure was all for him. Back and forth he cursed her petite, beautiful body. And she was prey. Prey. She was prey. Tricked into his snare. Tricked into his snare.
I will not be tricked again.