consequences.
I know that tomorrow, everything will change.
Maguire
SHE’S RECKLESS.
I tried. I tried to show her how perfect we were for each other.
She doesn’t seem to get it.
It isn’t an option. I’m not a back-up plan.
Because of her and him , we’ll have to do things the hard way.
I don’t mind really; it will still end with the same result.
I let her continue to have Noah in her life. She took my gift for granted.
Tsk tsk, Tinsley.
For every action, there is a reaction.
Tinsley
MY BODY FEELS like it weighs seven-hundred pounds. Attempting to lift my arm, I fail and realize it’s because something is wrapped around it.
My eyes blink slowly, but it’s dark, so dark. My mouth is dry, and my head is throbbing.
Where am I?
Scooting my body just a bit, I try to sit up, but I hear the distinct sound of metal, clanking against my limbs.
Chains.
I’m chained down. Below me, though, it’s soft. Like a bed. My breathing is becoming more erratic as I freak out. My heart is beating out of my chest. I listen to try to hear if someone’s in the room with me, but I see nothing but darkness. I’m frantic, my limbs are moving to try to break free, but all I succeed in doing is making a shit ton of noise.
Lying there waiting for my eyes to adjust, I’m slowly able to make out faint shapes. My eyes scan the room. First, I see a nightstand beside me. Next is a television mounted on the wall. Blinking, I squint my eyes to see if I can notice anything familiar.
I’d gone to bed last night in my bed. It is clearly evident, that this isn’t my room.
I can’t hear anything except for the ticking of a clock on the wall.
I’m starting to panic. My heart’s thumping so loud now; I’m just waiting for a heart attack.
I know this room.
It’s Maguire’s.
My breathing is coming out in concentrated, heavy breaths. I’m trying not to freak out, but it’s not working. Unsure if it's better I’m alone, I try desperately to slip my wrist out of one of the chains, but it’s no use. The metal scrapes against my skin, and I cry out.
Lifting my neck, I glance down. I’m naked.
Not in the good way, either.
I’m fucked. Again, not in the good way.
I listen carefully and can hear him talking to someone, another man. After a few moments, I hear them pad into the room and I feign sleep. They hover around me, talking to each other, about me.
A hand touches my hipbone, caressing it before the other agrees.
Agrees to what? He pats the stranger on the back and moves to the other side of me, sitting close enough that I can smell his cologne.
A chair is brought over next to the bed on the stranger’s side. More hushed voices as I hear them rustling around and laying things next to me on the bed.
When the distinct sound of a tattoo needle starts up, I have to bite down on my cheek to stop myself from crying out.
Maguire’s hand slides into mine, and I latch on for dear life. I can’t pretend anymore. It’s too much.
Looking up, I see his eyes and find it odd that he has a look of endearment and compassion. I want to rip his damn head off for putting me back in this room and chaining me to the bed.
The man has one arm over my tummy and the other between my thighs. He keeps moving up and down in a grinding motion and I want to vomit. Meanwhile, Maguire watches without interfering once.
This situation is bad. He’s off his rocker, and I’m his plaything.
“Fuck!” I scream as the needle touches my pale, sensitive skin. Instinctively, I attempt to bring my legs up to protect myself but fail. Maguire’s in the background, petting my hair.
“Shh, sweet Tinsley. It’ll be over soon.” His words ring through my head.
What will be over soon? This torture? Or?
Tears stream down my face now. It feels like a thousand cats are scratching me to death. I scream at the top of my lungs, thrashing as hard as I can. The needle pokes me over and over as he tries to hold me down, but I continue,
I know that tomorrow, everything will change.
Maguire
SHE’S RECKLESS.
I tried. I tried to show her how perfect we were for each other.
She doesn’t seem to get it.
It isn’t an option. I’m not a back-up plan.
Because of her and him , we’ll have to do things the hard way.
I don’t mind really; it will still end with the same result.
I let her continue to have Noah in her life. She took my gift for granted.
Tsk tsk, Tinsley.
For every action, there is a reaction.
Tinsley
MY BODY FEELS like it weighs seven-hundred pounds. Attempting to lift my arm, I fail and realize it’s because something is wrapped around it.
My eyes blink slowly, but it’s dark, so dark. My mouth is dry, and my head is throbbing.
Where am I?
Scooting my body just a bit, I try to sit up, but I hear the distinct sound of metal, clanking against my limbs.
Chains.
I’m chained down. Below me, though, it’s soft. Like a bed. My breathing is becoming more erratic as I freak out. My heart is beating out of my chest. I listen to try to hear if someone’s in the room with me, but I see nothing but darkness. I’m frantic, my limbs are moving to try to break free, but all I succeed in doing is making a shit ton of noise.
Lying there waiting for my eyes to adjust, I’m slowly able to make out faint shapes. My eyes scan the room. First, I see a nightstand beside me. Next is a television mounted on the wall. Blinking, I squint my eyes to see if I can notice anything familiar.
I’d gone to bed last night in my bed. It is clearly evident, that this isn’t my room.
I can’t hear anything except for the ticking of a clock on the wall.
I’m starting to panic. My heart’s thumping so loud now; I’m just waiting for a heart attack.
I know this room.
It’s Maguire’s.
My breathing is coming out in concentrated, heavy breaths. I’m trying not to freak out, but it’s not working. Unsure if it's better I’m alone, I try desperately to slip my wrist out of one of the chains, but it’s no use. The metal scrapes against my skin, and I cry out.
Lifting my neck, I glance down. I’m naked.
Not in the good way, either.
I’m fucked. Again, not in the good way.
I listen carefully and can hear him talking to someone, another man. After a few moments, I hear them pad into the room and I feign sleep. They hover around me, talking to each other, about me.
A hand touches my hipbone, caressing it before the other agrees.
Agrees to what? He pats the stranger on the back and moves to the other side of me, sitting close enough that I can smell his cologne.
A chair is brought over next to the bed on the stranger’s side. More hushed voices as I hear them rustling around and laying things next to me on the bed.
When the distinct sound of a tattoo needle starts up, I have to bite down on my cheek to stop myself from crying out.
Maguire’s hand slides into mine, and I latch on for dear life. I can’t pretend anymore. It’s too much.
Looking up, I see his eyes and find it odd that he has a look of endearment and compassion. I want to rip his damn head off for putting me back in this room and chaining me to the bed.
The man has one arm over my tummy and the other between my thighs. He keeps moving up and down in a grinding motion and I want to vomit. Meanwhile, Maguire watches without interfering once.
This situation is bad. He’s off his rocker, and I’m his plaything.
“Fuck!” I scream as the needle touches my pale, sensitive skin. Instinctively, I attempt to bring my legs up to protect myself but fail. Maguire’s in the background, petting my hair.
“Shh, sweet Tinsley. It’ll be over soon.” His words ring through my head.
What will be over soon? This torture? Or?
Tears stream down my face now. It feels like a thousand cats are scratching me to death. I scream at the top of my lungs, thrashing as hard as I can. The needle pokes me over and over as he tries to hold me down, but I continue,
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