Page 39 of Spitfire

Irace up the stairs on bare feet, as quietly as I can, when I hear their loud voices on the main floor. My heart pounds so quickly that it feels like my chest is going to explode, as I put my hand over my mouth to stem my terrified whimpers. "Yeah, you can each take a turn if ya want. She's kinda loose and used up, though. Bitch took two cocks in her dirty cunt last weekend. Think Simon got it on his phone." My stepbrother laughs sarcastically, as dread feels like a lead balloon expanding in the pit of my stomach.

"What about your mom? Won't she tell her? I don't feel like getting in trouble with coach or my dad for some used-up skanky piece of ass."

"Naw, man, you're safe. My mom's out with her boyfriend, probably getting dicked down, and Scarlett's not gonna say shit. She knows she has it good here, better than the other foster places she's been in." I hear a few of them chuckle, their voices all becoming meshed, as panic tries to swamp me. "Besides, I think she likes all the attention."

Their clamorous footsteps head in the direction of the stairs, and I dart toward my room, even though it's not any safer than any other part of this house. I flick the flimsy lock on the door out of desperation to slow them down, but I know it won't stop my foster brother. He's proven time and time again that he knows how to pick it when he sneaks into my room.

"She's up here, bet the bitch is already wet for us."

"Nononono." My desperate glance swings around my room, my eyes already pricking with tears, looking for a way out that I know doesn't exist. I should have tried to make it out the back door. At least then I could have escaped out into the woods, and slept in the fields until Jenna returned. In here, I'm trapped, and my only option is the window, but I'm two stories off the ground, and last time I tried to climb the closest tree, one of the branches cracked, and I'm pretty sure it won't hold my weight now.

My mind screams, as my body trembles so badly my teeth begin to rattle. I can't allow them to hurt me; there are too many of them this time. I won't be able to fight back, and I know with certainty that there won't be any coming back from what happens to me at their malicious hands.

I've been living in a nightmare hell for the last six months, since my last foster place went up in flames, and my foster father died. This home with Jenna and her son, Jason, seemed at first like I had hit the lottery. There was edible food to eat, clean clothes, and I even had my own room with a lock. Jenna's a bit scatterbrained and a tad irresponsible, and often leaves us alone and to our own devices, but she's harmless compared to some of the foster parents I've had in the past.

The problem I quickly discovered was Jason. He's four years older than I am, a senior in high school, and on the football team. He's always trying to prove that he belongs on the team, and with the popular, wealthier kids, by any means necessary. Those means have started to involve me, and I hate it. The first time he snuck into my room, I was dead asleep and woke to him on top of me, forcing his disgusting cock into my mouth. Since then, it has only gotten so much worse.

I barely sleep now. All my nerves are constantly on edge for when he'll break into my room next, and make me do disgusting things with him. He's always threatening me with bodily harm, and he's even held a kitchen knife to my throat a few times while he makes me give him head. The threat he uses the most, that he knows works, is that he'll tell his mom that I'm a whore and tried to seduce him, and her boyfriend, and I'll be sent somewhere worse. Jason's right. I've lived in far more harmful places in my miserable fourteen years of life, and I don't want to return there.

Four more years, that's all I have to hold out for, and then I'm free of the system that keeps me a prisoner. After that, no one can make me live anywhere. No more threats, beatings, or being touched against my will. No more having to perform sexual favors just to survive.

I can do it, or at least I thought I could, until Jason changed the rules on his sick games and started bringing friends home with him, in a bid to gain their approval. Now it's not just one asshole I have to worry about raping me, it's multiple.

I'm still dealing with the bruises, and burning when I pee, from the last time Jenna went away for the weekend. Jason and his two friends were so rough, they didn't care how much I cried and screamed. At some point, one of them forced something down my throat, and I lost control of my body, and could only watch helplessly as they used me in their depravity like a sex doll, and left me in a puddle of my own vomit, urine, and their semen, when they were done.

Every time one of them touches me, a little more of me shatters, until the cracks have become spiderwebs across my mind and heart. I used to be able to go somewhere in my mind when I couldn't fight back, but lately it seems like there's no escape. Not from them, their touches, or from myself and the self-loathing afterward. Every part of me feels dirty all the time, despite how many times I scrub my skin raw.

"Honey, I'm home." A loud bang on my door startles me out of my thoughts. "I hope you washed that nasty cunt, you're about to have a train run on ya." Jason's obnoxious voice sounds through the door as he rattles the knob.

"Bitch locked the door, need a sec to get it open."

"Hurry up, man, my cock's hard as a rock already. I can't wait to fill her ass."

"You two are pathetic. Tim and I get her first, then you can have our sloppy seconds."

"Open this fucking door, Scarlett! If you don't, I promise you I'm gonna make your holes all bleed, bitch!"

No! I need to get out of here! I turn toward my bedroom window, opening it wide enough to fit my skinny body, as the first crack of lightning fills the air outside, and the sky thunders with the upcoming promise of a downpour. Shit, that just made everything worse. I scramble onto the windowsill when I hear metallic clicking outside my door, and I know it's just a matter of seconds before they break through.

I stretch as far as I can, my clammy feet slipping along the wooden sill, as I attempt to reach a branch higher up, hoping that it'll hold my weight. My fingertips are still inches away, no matter what I do, and the only branch I can reach has a giant crack in it.

Fuck! What am I going to do now? I stare down at the ground and wonder if I'll survive jumping, without breaking my legs. Probably not. That would somehow be worse. I doubt Jason would call an ambulance, and who knows what he'd do to me in punishment.

The door slams open and into the wall, the knob imbedding into the plasterboard with the force, as four pairs of eyes stare at me with lust and fury. Jason advances into the room, his face red and seething, a screwdriver clenched in his fist, as his furious brown eyes take notice of my precarious position, still half hanging out the window. Another crack of lightning and a boom of thunder have me jumping, and almost falling out the window in terror. "Get the fuck down from there, skank, before you fall to your death."

"Get out! Leave me the fuck alone!" I scream as tears begin to slide down my face.

His friend Tim moves forward, a box cutter twirling over and over on his fingers. "It'd be a shame to have to cut up that pretty face, Scarlett. Why don't you get down from there, and we can all have some fun?"

He glances at Jason as they have a silent conversation, and both of them move in unison, coming at me from opposite sides as the other two fill the room. My grip on the sill loosens as I realize there is no choice; either way is going to hurt beyond measure. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll break my neck and all of this will be over.

Let go, you've suffered enough. It's okay, I'm here, a voice whispers through my mind, and I feel my fingertips release their hold completely. Just as I'm preparing to jump, Tim manages to grab onto a fistful of my hair, dragging me back through the window at the same time Jason grabs onto my arm, and wrenches it behind my back. I stumble with a scream onto the floor, taking both of them down with me.

"Fucking bitch, you're going to pay for that!" Jason roars as he backhands me hard across the face, and the taste of old pennies fills my mouth.

"Yo, don't fuck up her face too bad, it's her best feature. Plus, bro, you don't want to have to explain how she's all banged up to your mom!" Andy crows.

"You're right, the rest of her we can tear apart. She can hide the evidence under her ratty clothes." Jason cackles.