When he leans in and kisses my forehead, I don’t even think when I nuzzle in and kiss his neck. He keeps his lips on my forehead and doesn’t move, but his hands find my cheeks as he holds me close. Before I know it, his lips are on mine in an unmoving kiss. I grip on to his wrists, and in a blur, in an unnoticeable moment, our mouths move together.
I’ve never kissed Pike before—never even thought about it—but somehow, this feels right. He’s the first boy I’ve ever kissed. We’ve been having sex for two years, so you wouldn’t think kissing him would feel like anything at all, but it does. Out of nowhere, he’s taken my mind away from everything bad as I focus on only him. It’s like I can finally breathe.
Rolling on top of me, he reaches back to take his shirt off, and I sit up to remove mine as well. When we’re stripped down to nothing, he pulls the sheets over us, and I’m tucked in warm with him. Everything about this feels different than the hundreds of times we’ve done this before. It’s always cold and dirty, with Carl watching us the whole time.
“Don’t go there,” Pike says, knocking me from my thoughts.
“Where?”
“Don’t think about him. He has nothing to do with this. We’re not on that mattress down there; we’re here in my bed. You’re safe.”
“Just us?” I ask.
“Just us,” he says as he pushes himself inside of me, and for the first time, I find the magic that I gave up believing in. It turns out Pike had it all along, because in this moment, I don’t feel any more pain or hurt.
It’s just us, and I’m safe.
MY TEETH CHATTER as I walk home from school. I wound up getting in trouble for fighting a girl who was making fun of me today, landing me in afterschool suspension for the next two weeks. Pike has been working more and more, so we haven’t been walking home together much lately, and he refuses to let me tag along with him. He says he doesn’t want me getting mixed up with his friends, but he always makes sure he’s home before Carl gets there so I won’t be alone with him.
Life hasn’t changed that much. I’m fourteen—a little taller, filling out more, my hair has grown a few more waves than it used to have, and I have more scars on my wrists. It looks like I’ve been trying to slit them, but six years of being belted up in a tiny closet will do that to you. I hide them well though, wearing long sleeves that fall past my wrists that I often tug further down.
Since learning about my dad’s death two years ago, I’ve grown pretty numb to everything around me. I feel like a living, breathing machine most of the time. I’m able to turn myself off and on pretty easily. For the most part, I’m in off mode, frozen and void. I only allow Pike to see me on. He’s my only release, the only one I show my true self to. Since that afternoon, the afternoon I learned that I would never see my father again, Pike and I have continued to sleep together, privately, in his bed. I’ve found myself becoming selfish with him, using him to take away all the bad. It’s so hard to explain, but when I’m with him like that, I feel like I’m washed clean. Once I realized what I was doing, I was honest and told him. The guilt was overpowering me, and when I explained my feelings to him, I thought he’d be mad, but he wasn’t. He told me to take whatever I needed to take from him. I still feel the guilt though. The shame of using him so selfishly eats at me after we’re done and I grow quiet, often crying. Pike soothes me as best as he can, holding me, assuring me that it’s okay—that everything’s okay.
I’m a mess, but that’s to be expected with the harsh introduction I received to this crazy, fucked up life. I’m fourteen—too young to be this bitter and angry. For a while, when I would see a child with their parent, I’d wish for that parent to die. I wanted every kid to feel the pain I was feeling because it wasn’t fair to me.
Life’s cruel, and I’m its bitch.
I’m Carl’s bitch too. Lately he’s been fucking me, wanting Pike to watch. He made me promise to never look at Carl, so I always keep my eyes locked on Pike’s no matter who I’m fucking that day.
My first orgasm came about a year ago. Carl was jerking off in the corner while Pike and I were having sex. It had never happened before, so when what was always such a sickening act turned into pleasure, it scared the crap out of me. I couldn’t face Pike afterwards; I was too ashamed. When I finally unlocked my bathroom door a few hours later, he came in and talked to me about it. It was humiliating, having my brother explain to me what had happened. He told me it was a natural part of sex, but I didn’t like it. It made me feel dirty and embarrassed. And now, knowing it could happen again, I fight hard to prevent it. Pike knows this, so when we’re alone in his bed, he tries to get off fast so that he doesn’t accidentally make me feel it again. It’s weird, because I like having sex with Pike when we’re alone, but at the same time, it scares me because I don’t want it to feel good—it shouldn’t feel good. But I want to be with him because it’s with him that I don’t feel the misery and the ugliness. He takes it all away, and even if it’s only for a moment, I feel free.