Fresh Baked Cookies.
It all started with fresh baked cookies.
That’s all it took for Jack Bassam Barakat and Alexander William Gaskarth to be best friends.
“Jack, honey,” Jack’s mother smiled down at him as they stood in the brightly-lit kitchen; the smell of warm, fresh baked cookies in the air. “Could you take these cookies next door? We have new neighbors.”
The seven year old boy just shrugged and carefully to the plate out of his mother’s hands, walking out the front door. But he couldn’t help himself; as he crossed the lawn he snuck one out from under the pink saran wrap.
Upon ringing the doorbell, a tall, brown hair woman answered. “Well, hi there!” She cooed in a British accent as she crouched down to his eye level. “You must be Jack, our new neighbor.”
Jack’s eyes grew wide. “How do you know?”
“Your mom called me this morning,” the woman chuckled. “My name is Kary Gaskarth.” Just then, a boy around Jack’s age with light brown hair ran up behind his mother. He was petite, and energetic.
“Mummy! Clifford’s on TV!” He squealed. “THEY ‘AVE CLIFFORD IN THE AMERICA!” Kary turned around and beamed at her son.
“Alexander, this is Jack,” she said gesturing to the boy standing at the door. “You two could be very good friends.”
She was right.
All through middle school, and now high school, Jack and Alex were joined at the hip. Through the hard times - Alex’s older brother committing suicide and Jack’s sister being diagnosed with MS, and through the amazing times - going on a road trip with both of their families and having the time of their lives.
But everyone has secrets.
Jack’s father died in a car accident on the way to pick Jack up from soccer practice when he was 13. Luckily Alex was on Jack’s team so his mom drove him home, but only to find Lucy, Jack’s mother, sobbing on the kitchen floor.
“Mom, Mom,” Jack shook and poked his crying mother’s side. “What’s wrong?” She slowly looked up at him, her long dark brown hair spilling all over her tear-stained face.
“It’s your entire fault!” She growled, grabbing Jack. “Because of you, your father’s DEAD!” She threw him against the wall, and right when he hit and tears began rolling down his cheeks did she realize what was happening. “Oh, Jack. Oh honey, I’m sorry!” She engulfed him in a hug.
That wasn’t the last time it happened.
At first it was just slaps, or being thrown against a wall.
It got worse; oh so much worse. Jack is 17.
“Hey, honey,” she cooed, sauntering into his room wearing nothing but skimpy lingerie. Lucy started refusing to take her behavioral meds and stopped going to the doctor. Jack has concluded she had lost her mind.
“Mom, stop it. Get out of here,” he said, turning back to his homework. He didn’t get a hard time seeing naked women anymore, because of her, so it sucked trying to watch porn and whack off.
But suddenly he felt her cold hands through his shirt on his shoulders.
“Baby, I feel so alone!” She hissed into his ear. Her breath my shivers run down his spine and fear pool in his stomach.
“Don’t touch me,” he tried to brush her off, until she grabbed the back off his neck, her fingernails digging into his skin.
“Fuck me, now, please?” She begged. He gulped and got up, going over to his bed. This was the 27th time - he’d been counting. Counting until it stopped. He laid down on the bed and just stayed still, like a captive waiting to be killed.
“You’ll enjoy this,” she moaned, unbuckling his belt and sliding his jeans down his legs. She did everything she could, and finally she gave him an unwanted, horrible boner.
She climbed on top of him and lowered slowly until his head was at her opening, and slowly she lowered herself down until her ass touched his thighs, all the while moaning and squealing. Then she started bouncing, basically only fucking herself since Jack put no effort into it.
He always counted down from 100, seeing if he could last that long - but he always let himself down and came around 20.
“Thanks babe,” she whispered, kissing him fully on the lips; Jack didn’t respond. He felt dirty, alone, and scared. But finally he got up, took the condom off his throbbing cock and went into his bathroom, turning on the hot shower.
The rape wasn’t the only secret.
As soon as Jack stripped all his clothes off and stepped under the stream of scalding water he took his razor and slammed it against the wall, sending 4 tiny razors falling near his feet.
He picked one up and ran the small edge across his forearm, spelling out tiny words; “HATE”, “RAPE”; and finally one that scared him most; “ALEX”.