Beautiful. Two/?
Title: Beautiful. Part Two
Author: hooray4irony
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryden
POV: Ryan's
Summary: My uncle tied it around my head tightly and suddenly I couldn't see where Pete was or what Pete was doing to me anymore.
"Ryan, would you mind if I asked a few questions?" Brendon asked, coming to stand in front of me again.
"About what?" Brendon looked down to his feet, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
"You," he said softly.
Disclaimer: Do not own any characters. But the plot is mine.
Beta: xojemmaxo
Author Notes: Yeah... Sorry this is so, so late. I really did try to finish it as quickly as I could, but I recently started school again and am now very busy. I will try to post a part once a week, but I can't promise anything. Sorry! But, enjoy this new chapter! XD
Part One
"Ryan, I want you to do something for me," Pete explained, sorting through his bedside table as he spoke.
"Okay," I replied easily, trained to obey his every whim.
"Good. Lay on the bed."
I did as was ordered, carefully placing my thin body on the cool, crisp sheets of Pete's bed and laying my hands flat beside me on the covers. I stared at the ceiling.
"Ah! Found it." Pete was talking to himself mostly, so I didn't dare ask what he'd found. It was sometimes better to not know your fate before it came. Mine usually felt like a brick to the face and a stick to the ass.
Pete was smiling when he climbed onto the bed and straddled my lower half. He was holding a strip of thick, black cloth in his hands. To an untrained eye, it just looked like a harmless piece of material. But to me, I could see an evil tool that Pete would use to manipulate my body.
"Now, Ryan, you're going to put this blindfold on, then we're going to play a little game." Pete smirked above me. I shuddered.
I shook my head as Pete nodded his and began to lower the black cloth. I instantly raised my hands to cover my face.
Pete sighed and ripped my hands away, roughly tucking them underneath his knees and digging into them painfully. I whimpered.
"Ryan," Pete began and I started to struggle. My hands were beginning to turn numb and Pete was crushing my pelvis.
With a long sigh, Pete brought the cloth down hard onto my neck. My head and neck were sinking painfully into the bed as Pete pushed down harder. I gasped for breath, my hands were useless because they were currently being crushed underneath the weight of Pete's kness, and my lower half was of no use because my uncle was sitting on it.
"Pete," I choked, feeling more pressure being put into strangling me. "Please, I'll do it. Please- stop!"
Pete deemed this good enough, so he released the cloth from my neck. I lapped up the air, inhaling as much as I could without passing out.
"Ready to play, Ryan?" Pete asked, smiling down at me again with a creepy glint in his eye.
I nodded, letting my body fall limp as Pete lowered the black material to my eyes.
My uncle tied it around my head tightly and I couldn't see where Pete was or what Pete was doing to me anymore.
I woke up (in a cold sweat again, gasping and clutching at my neck and eyes) before Brendon and William the next morning. The clock in my head was programmed to go off early.
I swung my legs over the edge of the single bed pushed up against a wall, and headed for the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Once I had padded my way over, I rummaged through my newly cut clothes, feeling more at home then I was yesterday. Seeing the short shorts and the low cut black tight top instantly brought Pete to mind. In fact, I had dreamt about one of the activities we did in Pete's house. I shuddered.
Attempting to rid my thoughts of Pete, I scooped up a pair of shorts and a black top and entered the bathroom. I showered, dressed and shaved my face. It was free of hairs anyway, but it gave me soemthing to do. Then I applied eyeliner and checked myself in the mirror.
I frowned. My hair was way too long. Straightened, it would easily reach my shoulders. It was time for a hair cut.
I found the scissors from the day before and began cutting off locks of my hair. I knew how to do this, I had done it all the time at Pete's when it would get too long. Pete normally told me how he wanted it cut, but I decided on going with my own style this time.
I chopped a lot off at the back, leaving a long fringe at the front. I layered it and trimmed the remaining flaws away.
Done, now time for the straightening. Burning myself only two times this morning, I managed to straighten my hair into the way I wanted it.
Perfect. I thought I looked like a completely different person. And I liked it. I felt like I had some control given back to me, but I knew that it wouldn't last long. It never did.
Once I was done, I exited the bathroom to find Brendon and William groggily getting out from under their covers.
Brendon stared at me for a long moment. His eyes were squinted and he was barely awake. I decided to put this attention to good use, swinging my hips and lifting my feet high off of the carpet as I made my way to make my bed. I could feel Brendon's eyes still on me as I leaned down to pull the covers up. I smirked.
"Hey, Ryan?"
"Hmm?" I turned around, fake innocence plastered on to my face.
Brendon's hair was sticking in every direction possible, and his face was still scrunched.
"Did you cut your hair? I swear it was longer yesterday."
I nodded. "Yeah, I cut it this morning."
Brendon nodded slowly, taking his time to say, "Well, it looks good."
I couldn't help the blush that spread across my cheeks and warmed my stomach. Brendon's compliments felt so much different than Pete's. My uncle's always sounded dirty and full of horny lust. Brendon's were much warmer, and no matter how much I dug, I couldn't find nay secret sexual hidden meaning.
"Thank you." I meant it, too.
William rolled his eyes as he shuffled into the bathroom.
Brendon cursed lightly under his breath.
"William," he whined, standing up and following William. The bathroom door shut loudly in his face and Brendon stamped his foot.
"Wiilllllliaaam! We agreed that I would have first shower! You always take, like, thirty minutes!" When he got no reply, he shouted, "Fuck you too, dickhead!"
I bit my lip and continued to tidy my bed. Once that was done, I tucked my pyjamas underneath my pillow (to keep anyone from taking them. It was the only clothing I have worn to bed in a long time). Brendon stared at me, an amused smile playing on his lips.
I wish he wouldn't smile like that. It makes my tummy feel funny.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Classes were a part of living at the orphanage. I hated them. Everybody knew everything, and I knew nothing.
I was set up in a group of a few people (I didn't know how many for sure, because I couldn't count), and I currently sat in between a kid with longish, black hair and a pale face who had introduced himself as 'Gerard", and a tall dark haired boy who had called himself 'Gabe'. They stared at the woman talking at the front. I tried to sink into my chair.
"Now, Ryan," Wait- when was her attention suddenly turned on to me? I tried even harder to become the wood underneath my ass.
"Where are you in your studies?"
I hardly knew what studies meant, but I knew not to ask questions, so I just shrugged.
She frowned.
"How often did you go to school?" Was her next question. I new what school meant.
"I... don't know. I don't think I have been since I was really young."
Her frown deepened as she asked, "How young, exactly?"
I shrugged again.
"I don't remember ever going to school, really." I felt my cheeks darken as a hushed whisper broke out through the group.
"Right... Do you know how to count, or read, or write?" she asked, her face becoming more bemused as the seconds went on.
I shook my head and her shoulders sagged.
"Alright then. You can just sit out for this lesson, but I want to talk to you in private afterwards. Okay?"
I nodded and began my staring contest with the table, running pointless thoughts through my head just to keep myself busy.
The lesson turned out to be boring to watch, so when it finally came to an end, I couldn't help but feel a weight lift from my eyelids and shoulders.
"Ryan," the woman called. She sat down next to me when the other kids had left, and stared at me.
"I think you would do good if I gave you a personal tutor to get you into the basics. Then we can start small and work our way up."
Why was this woman saying 'we' and 'our'? She had no reason to start at the basis because she probably knew everything in the world. This woman taught other people skills to read, write and count. She wasn't in this with me.
I nodded slowly and she smiled.
"Great. Maybe if you find that you're uncomfortable on your own with this tutor, and you would like some extra company --because I know how hard and frustrating and unsettling it can be at this stage in your life-- then maybe you could bring a friend?"
Even though I had no friends and I knew that no one would be willing to help a marked bitch that wasn't even beautiful enough for a certain man, and that knew nothing about anything, I agreed.
"Great," she exclaimed, smiling easily. I disliked her already. "I'll talk to a tutor and set you up. And then we can start. Okay? Just give me a day or two."
With one last smile, she stood and left me on my own.
In a matter of seconds, Brendon was where the woman once was. He was grinning from ear to ear and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
"Hey Ryan! What're you doing?"
"Sitting." Wasn't it obvious?
Brendon's smile dropped slightly and he cocked his head to the side.
"Sitting? Well, shouldn't you be doing something more exciting and fun? Preferably with me?"
I shrugged.
"I don't know. Am I allowed to?"
Brendon sighed and stood, saying, "Of course you are. We can go do something fun."
I stayed sitting, deciding over consequences.
Brendon sighed again. He reached for my hand and I gasped and jumped from the seat as soon as his finger brushed over my wrist.
"Fun? What fun?" I blurted.
Brendon raised an eyebrow.
"I was thinking, like, maybe we go outside and play with the ball or something- Or if you wanted, we could just go upstairs and do something?"
I cleared my throat. "Uh, outside is good."
Brendon smiled and I followed him out into the garden. It was slightly cloudy and windy. The wind blew my hair around and into my face and no matter how many times I would push it behind my ears, it would just fall back. I shouldn't have cut my hair so short.
Brendon keeps walking past the path and onto the grass.
"Where are we going?" I asked, struggling to keep up with him.
"This house was built on a large block of land. It goes on for quite a bit and there's a forest up ahead that I want to show you," Brendon said.
I followed Brendon for some time. When I looked behind me, the house was a small shape in the distance. Very far away, and a long way to run. We finally came to a stop in front of a mass of trees. They were different than the ones in the garden. Those one's had flowers and bright green leaves, where these one's had no flowers and dark green colored leaves.
"Is this the place?" I asked Brendon, who was starting to walk again, his time into the trees.
"No, it's a bit further in. Come on." Brendon looked back at me and smiled. I instantly felt warm and quickly walked up beside him.
Brendon led me through the trees and I kept tripping over tree roots and raised earth, apologizing every time. Brendon eventually took a hold of my arm, gently, so I wouldn't fall again.
Then Brendon came to an abrupt stop, staring at a big, big tree in front of us. I looked up and it seemed to go on forever in to the sky. It was a very big tree.
"This is it," he breathed, as if talking too loudly would ruin the moment he seemed to be having.
"This is it?" I repeated. He brought me here for a tree. To see a really big tree.
Brendon nodded and glanced at me, smiling.
"This is where I come when I feel sad, or lonely and when William is being a bitch."
The words were light, as if he didn't care to talk about his personal problems, like they would just disappear or they didn't really exist.
And then I wished I had some place I could've gone too all those years. A secret place that I could call my own. A place where I wouldn't get hurt or raped or drugged. But I had no where to go. I couldn't even stay inside my own head without Pete violating my thoughts.
"I used to come here a lot. It's a good place to just relax and clear your thoughts," explained Brendon, letting go of my arm and slowly walking around the base of the tree. I watched him carefully step over tree roots. The way he closed his eyes as he pressed his hand to the tree and a small smile crept on to his face.
He then turned to me.
"Ryan, would you mind if I asked a few questions?" Brendon asked, coming to stand in front of me again.
"About what?"
Brendon looked down to his feet, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
"You," he said softly.
I frowned. Why would he want to ask questions about me? I wasn't anything interesting, I didn't know anything about things other than sex, and I really didn't know anything about myself.
"Uh, why?" I asked.
Brendon looked up from his feet, smiling lightly.
"Because I want to get to know you," he stated simply.
I nodded. "Okay. What questions?"
Brendon inhaled deeply, seeming to ready himself for the things he was about to ask and learn.
"You have to answer truthfully to each one. How old are you?"
"16."
"Cool. I'm 17 and a half. When is your birthday?"
I shrugged. I really had no idea. Pete didn't know either.
"I don't know," I said. Brendon frowned.
"You don't know when your own birthday is? That's okay. Mine's 12th of April."
"Where were you born?"
"I don't know that either."
"Okay... Why do you wear clothes like that?"
"Because."
"Because why? Come on, you have to answer truthfully."
I began to fidget. "Because Pete likes it when I do."
"Who's Pete?"
Sensitive topic. "My Uncle. And the reason he likes me to wear them is none of your business."
Brendon blinked. "But you said you'd tell me. If you answer my questions, then I'll tell you about me. Deal?"
I thought for a moment. Surely if I told Brendon about myself, than he would leave me alone. Maybe he would get weirded out or something and not talk to me anymore. It's not that I didn't want him to talk to me, because it felt really nice. But it's because I don't want to start relationships with anyone. They just end up hurting me.
But I could learn about Brendon too.
"Okay. Pete wanted me to wear clothes like this because he liked it. And he liked me to be beautiful, I guess- I don't know."
Brendon blinked.
"Okay, next question. What's on your chest?"
I quickly brought my hand up to cover my chest and hissed. It was still really sore and was scabbing.
"I-I don't know. I can't make it out."
"Maybe I can?"
Brendon stepped forward and raised his hands to touch my chest. I stepped backwards on instinct.
"I won't hurt you, Ryan. I promise. I just want to see what it is."
I sighed and nodded, defeated yet again.
Brendon peeled back my collar to reveal rather angry looking, red cuts. They were placed just below my collarbone. Brendon hissed.
"How did that happen?"
"Pete," I said softly. Brendon breathed an 'oh', and his hot breath came into contact with my exposed skin. It was warm and too good. Pete would be angry if he knew that I was thinking this about another boy, so I pushed the feeling away.
"Um, does it spell anything? What does it say?" I asked. I'd been wanting to know since Pete cut it into my flesh, and Brendon seemed like the right person to ask.
"Um, yeah. It says 'MINE'. Um... yeah." Brendon stepped back awkwardly. He placed his hands at his sides and looked at me.
I felt numb. I knew exactly why Pete would carve that in to me. I suddenly felt cold dread sink to the pit of my stomach like led. It felt like Pete had come back. Like he was standing right behind me now, laughing.
"Why would Pete do that to you?" Brendon all but whispered. His eyes were large and deep, seeming to go on forever. I couldn't stand him staring at me like that. It seemed so much worse than Pete's stare. Brendon's was slightly accusing, filled with sympathy and disgust. Pete's was just mocking and dirty and the same thing every time. I didn't want to stand there anymore. I needed to get away from Brendon before I got too attached. Like I had with Patrick.
"Because I'm Pete's bitch," I said, venom and bitterness lacing my voice and poisoning my tongue. I then turned and quickly made my way back to the house. Without Brendon.
------------------------
Also, check this out! It's a little drawing by we_r_the_dream called 'Uncle Pete + Ryan :L' It's hell funny :P LOL"
Author: hooray4irony
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryden
POV: Ryan's
Summary: My uncle tied it around my head tightly and suddenly I couldn't see where Pete was or what Pete was doing to me anymore.
"Ryan, would you mind if I asked a few questions?" Brendon asked, coming to stand in front of me again.
"About what?" Brendon looked down to his feet, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
"You," he said softly.
Disclaimer: Do not own any characters. But the plot is mine.
Beta: xojemmaxo
Author Notes: Yeah... Sorry this is so, so late. I really did try to finish it as quickly as I could, but I recently started school again and am now very busy. I will try to post a part once a week, but I can't promise anything. Sorry! But, enjoy this new chapter! XD
Part One
"Ryan, I want you to do something for me," Pete explained, sorting through his bedside table as he spoke.
"Okay," I replied easily, trained to obey his every whim.
"Good. Lay on the bed."
I did as was ordered, carefully placing my thin body on the cool, crisp sheets of Pete's bed and laying my hands flat beside me on the covers. I stared at the ceiling.
"Ah! Found it." Pete was talking to himself mostly, so I didn't dare ask what he'd found. It was sometimes better to not know your fate before it came. Mine usually felt like a brick to the face and a stick to the ass.
Pete was smiling when he climbed onto the bed and straddled my lower half. He was holding a strip of thick, black cloth in his hands. To an untrained eye, it just looked like a harmless piece of material. But to me, I could see an evil tool that Pete would use to manipulate my body.
"Now, Ryan, you're going to put this blindfold on, then we're going to play a little game." Pete smirked above me. I shuddered.
I shook my head as Pete nodded his and began to lower the black cloth. I instantly raised my hands to cover my face.
Pete sighed and ripped my hands away, roughly tucking them underneath his knees and digging into them painfully. I whimpered.
"Ryan," Pete began and I started to struggle. My hands were beginning to turn numb and Pete was crushing my pelvis.
With a long sigh, Pete brought the cloth down hard onto my neck. My head and neck were sinking painfully into the bed as Pete pushed down harder. I gasped for breath, my hands were useless because they were currently being crushed underneath the weight of Pete's kness, and my lower half was of no use because my uncle was sitting on it.
"Pete," I choked, feeling more pressure being put into strangling me. "Please, I'll do it. Please- stop!"
Pete deemed this good enough, so he released the cloth from my neck. I lapped up the air, inhaling as much as I could without passing out.
"Ready to play, Ryan?" Pete asked, smiling down at me again with a creepy glint in his eye.
I nodded, letting my body fall limp as Pete lowered the black material to my eyes.
My uncle tied it around my head tightly and I couldn't see where Pete was or what Pete was doing to me anymore.
I woke up (in a cold sweat again, gasping and clutching at my neck and eyes) before Brendon and William the next morning. The clock in my head was programmed to go off early.
I swung my legs over the edge of the single bed pushed up against a wall, and headed for the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Once I had padded my way over, I rummaged through my newly cut clothes, feeling more at home then I was yesterday. Seeing the short shorts and the low cut black tight top instantly brought Pete to mind. In fact, I had dreamt about one of the activities we did in Pete's house. I shuddered.
Attempting to rid my thoughts of Pete, I scooped up a pair of shorts and a black top and entered the bathroom. I showered, dressed and shaved my face. It was free of hairs anyway, but it gave me soemthing to do. Then I applied eyeliner and checked myself in the mirror.
I frowned. My hair was way too long. Straightened, it would easily reach my shoulders. It was time for a hair cut.
I found the scissors from the day before and began cutting off locks of my hair. I knew how to do this, I had done it all the time at Pete's when it would get too long. Pete normally told me how he wanted it cut, but I decided on going with my own style this time.
I chopped a lot off at the back, leaving a long fringe at the front. I layered it and trimmed the remaining flaws away.
Done, now time for the straightening. Burning myself only two times this morning, I managed to straighten my hair into the way I wanted it.
Perfect. I thought I looked like a completely different person. And I liked it. I felt like I had some control given back to me, but I knew that it wouldn't last long. It never did.
Once I was done, I exited the bathroom to find Brendon and William groggily getting out from under their covers.
Brendon stared at me for a long moment. His eyes were squinted and he was barely awake. I decided to put this attention to good use, swinging my hips and lifting my feet high off of the carpet as I made my way to make my bed. I could feel Brendon's eyes still on me as I leaned down to pull the covers up. I smirked.
"Hey, Ryan?"
"Hmm?" I turned around, fake innocence plastered on to my face.
Brendon's hair was sticking in every direction possible, and his face was still scrunched.
"Did you cut your hair? I swear it was longer yesterday."
I nodded. "Yeah, I cut it this morning."
Brendon nodded slowly, taking his time to say, "Well, it looks good."
I couldn't help the blush that spread across my cheeks and warmed my stomach. Brendon's compliments felt so much different than Pete's. My uncle's always sounded dirty and full of horny lust. Brendon's were much warmer, and no matter how much I dug, I couldn't find nay secret sexual hidden meaning.
"Thank you." I meant it, too.
William rolled his eyes as he shuffled into the bathroom.
Brendon cursed lightly under his breath.
"William," he whined, standing up and following William. The bathroom door shut loudly in his face and Brendon stamped his foot.
"Wiilllllliaaam! We agreed that I would have first shower! You always take, like, thirty minutes!" When he got no reply, he shouted, "Fuck you too, dickhead!"
I bit my lip and continued to tidy my bed. Once that was done, I tucked my pyjamas underneath my pillow (to keep anyone from taking them. It was the only clothing I have worn to bed in a long time). Brendon stared at me, an amused smile playing on his lips.
I wish he wouldn't smile like that. It makes my tummy feel funny.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Classes were a part of living at the orphanage. I hated them. Everybody knew everything, and I knew nothing.
I was set up in a group of a few people (I didn't know how many for sure, because I couldn't count), and I currently sat in between a kid with longish, black hair and a pale face who had introduced himself as 'Gerard", and a tall dark haired boy who had called himself 'Gabe'. They stared at the woman talking at the front. I tried to sink into my chair.
"Now, Ryan," Wait- when was her attention suddenly turned on to me? I tried even harder to become the wood underneath my ass.
"Where are you in your studies?"
I hardly knew what studies meant, but I knew not to ask questions, so I just shrugged.
She frowned.
"How often did you go to school?" Was her next question. I new what school meant.
"I... don't know. I don't think I have been since I was really young."
Her frown deepened as she asked, "How young, exactly?"
I shrugged again.
"I don't remember ever going to school, really." I felt my cheeks darken as a hushed whisper broke out through the group.
"Right... Do you know how to count, or read, or write?" she asked, her face becoming more bemused as the seconds went on.
I shook my head and her shoulders sagged.
"Alright then. You can just sit out for this lesson, but I want to talk to you in private afterwards. Okay?"
I nodded and began my staring contest with the table, running pointless thoughts through my head just to keep myself busy.
The lesson turned out to be boring to watch, so when it finally came to an end, I couldn't help but feel a weight lift from my eyelids and shoulders.
"Ryan," the woman called. She sat down next to me when the other kids had left, and stared at me.
"I think you would do good if I gave you a personal tutor to get you into the basics. Then we can start small and work our way up."
Why was this woman saying 'we' and 'our'? She had no reason to start at the basis because she probably knew everything in the world. This woman taught other people skills to read, write and count. She wasn't in this with me.
I nodded slowly and she smiled.
"Great. Maybe if you find that you're uncomfortable on your own with this tutor, and you would like some extra company --because I know how hard and frustrating and unsettling it can be at this stage in your life-- then maybe you could bring a friend?"
Even though I had no friends and I knew that no one would be willing to help a marked bitch that wasn't even beautiful enough for a certain man, and that knew nothing about anything, I agreed.
"Great," she exclaimed, smiling easily. I disliked her already. "I'll talk to a tutor and set you up. And then we can start. Okay? Just give me a day or two."
With one last smile, she stood and left me on my own.
In a matter of seconds, Brendon was where the woman once was. He was grinning from ear to ear and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
"Hey Ryan! What're you doing?"
"Sitting." Wasn't it obvious?
Brendon's smile dropped slightly and he cocked his head to the side.
"Sitting? Well, shouldn't you be doing something more exciting and fun? Preferably with me?"
I shrugged.
"I don't know. Am I allowed to?"
Brendon sighed and stood, saying, "Of course you are. We can go do something fun."
I stayed sitting, deciding over consequences.
Brendon sighed again. He reached for my hand and I gasped and jumped from the seat as soon as his finger brushed over my wrist.
"Fun? What fun?" I blurted.
Brendon raised an eyebrow.
"I was thinking, like, maybe we go outside and play with the ball or something- Or if you wanted, we could just go upstairs and do something?"
I cleared my throat. "Uh, outside is good."
Brendon smiled and I followed him out into the garden. It was slightly cloudy and windy. The wind blew my hair around and into my face and no matter how many times I would push it behind my ears, it would just fall back. I shouldn't have cut my hair so short.
Brendon keeps walking past the path and onto the grass.
"Where are we going?" I asked, struggling to keep up with him.
"This house was built on a large block of land. It goes on for quite a bit and there's a forest up ahead that I want to show you," Brendon said.
I followed Brendon for some time. When I looked behind me, the house was a small shape in the distance. Very far away, and a long way to run. We finally came to a stop in front of a mass of trees. They were different than the ones in the garden. Those one's had flowers and bright green leaves, where these one's had no flowers and dark green colored leaves.
"Is this the place?" I asked Brendon, who was starting to walk again, his time into the trees.
"No, it's a bit further in. Come on." Brendon looked back at me and smiled. I instantly felt warm and quickly walked up beside him.
Brendon led me through the trees and I kept tripping over tree roots and raised earth, apologizing every time. Brendon eventually took a hold of my arm, gently, so I wouldn't fall again.
Then Brendon came to an abrupt stop, staring at a big, big tree in front of us. I looked up and it seemed to go on forever in to the sky. It was a very big tree.
"This is it," he breathed, as if talking too loudly would ruin the moment he seemed to be having.
"This is it?" I repeated. He brought me here for a tree. To see a really big tree.
Brendon nodded and glanced at me, smiling.
"This is where I come when I feel sad, or lonely and when William is being a bitch."
The words were light, as if he didn't care to talk about his personal problems, like they would just disappear or they didn't really exist.
And then I wished I had some place I could've gone too all those years. A secret place that I could call my own. A place where I wouldn't get hurt or raped or drugged. But I had no where to go. I couldn't even stay inside my own head without Pete violating my thoughts.
"I used to come here a lot. It's a good place to just relax and clear your thoughts," explained Brendon, letting go of my arm and slowly walking around the base of the tree. I watched him carefully step over tree roots. The way he closed his eyes as he pressed his hand to the tree and a small smile crept on to his face.
He then turned to me.
"Ryan, would you mind if I asked a few questions?" Brendon asked, coming to stand in front of me again.
"About what?"
Brendon looked down to his feet, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
"You," he said softly.
I frowned. Why would he want to ask questions about me? I wasn't anything interesting, I didn't know anything about things other than sex, and I really didn't know anything about myself.
"Uh, why?" I asked.
Brendon looked up from his feet, smiling lightly.
"Because I want to get to know you," he stated simply.
I nodded. "Okay. What questions?"
Brendon inhaled deeply, seeming to ready himself for the things he was about to ask and learn.
"You have to answer truthfully to each one. How old are you?"
"16."
"Cool. I'm 17 and a half. When is your birthday?"
I shrugged. I really had no idea. Pete didn't know either.
"I don't know," I said. Brendon frowned.
"You don't know when your own birthday is? That's okay. Mine's 12th of April."
"Where were you born?"
"I don't know that either."
"Okay... Why do you wear clothes like that?"
"Because."
"Because why? Come on, you have to answer truthfully."
I began to fidget. "Because Pete likes it when I do."
"Who's Pete?"
Sensitive topic. "My Uncle. And the reason he likes me to wear them is none of your business."
Brendon blinked. "But you said you'd tell me. If you answer my questions, then I'll tell you about me. Deal?"
I thought for a moment. Surely if I told Brendon about myself, than he would leave me alone. Maybe he would get weirded out or something and not talk to me anymore. It's not that I didn't want him to talk to me, because it felt really nice. But it's because I don't want to start relationships with anyone. They just end up hurting me.
But I could learn about Brendon too.
"Okay. Pete wanted me to wear clothes like this because he liked it. And he liked me to be beautiful, I guess- I don't know."
Brendon blinked.
"Okay, next question. What's on your chest?"
I quickly brought my hand up to cover my chest and hissed. It was still really sore and was scabbing.
"I-I don't know. I can't make it out."
"Maybe I can?"
Brendon stepped forward and raised his hands to touch my chest. I stepped backwards on instinct.
"I won't hurt you, Ryan. I promise. I just want to see what it is."
I sighed and nodded, defeated yet again.
Brendon peeled back my collar to reveal rather angry looking, red cuts. They were placed just below my collarbone. Brendon hissed.
"How did that happen?"
"Pete," I said softly. Brendon breathed an 'oh', and his hot breath came into contact with my exposed skin. It was warm and too good. Pete would be angry if he knew that I was thinking this about another boy, so I pushed the feeling away.
"Um, does it spell anything? What does it say?" I asked. I'd been wanting to know since Pete cut it into my flesh, and Brendon seemed like the right person to ask.
"Um, yeah. It says 'MINE'. Um... yeah." Brendon stepped back awkwardly. He placed his hands at his sides and looked at me.
I felt numb. I knew exactly why Pete would carve that in to me. I suddenly felt cold dread sink to the pit of my stomach like led. It felt like Pete had come back. Like he was standing right behind me now, laughing.
"Why would Pete do that to you?" Brendon all but whispered. His eyes were large and deep, seeming to go on forever. I couldn't stand him staring at me like that. It seemed so much worse than Pete's stare. Brendon's was slightly accusing, filled with sympathy and disgust. Pete's was just mocking and dirty and the same thing every time. I didn't want to stand there anymore. I needed to get away from Brendon before I got too attached. Like I had with Patrick.
"Because I'm Pete's bitch," I said, venom and bitterness lacing my voice and poisoning my tongue. I then turned and quickly made my way back to the house. Without Brendon.
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Also, check this out! It's a little drawing by we_r_the_dream called 'Uncle Pete + Ryan :L' It's hell funny :P LOL"