Put Some Clothes On Slut.

It's light out. Sade can't sleep. She wonders if she should get up, or would that wake Carter? If she did get up, what would she do? There's not much you can do when there's a snoring teenage boy splurged across the bed. Maybe it's best to stay in bed, she thinks. If she leaves, there's a chance Carter will steal her spot, what little spot she has. She decides to stay in bed. Maybe she will fall asleep again, she doubts it. If she sleeps, will the nightmares come to greet her once again? Or this time will she simply be unconscious? 

After hours of day dreaming and trying not to fall asleep Sade is faced with Carter waking up, breathing everywhere. Carter always has smelly breath in the mornings, though, doesn't everyone? Carter does not like to be touched in his sleep, waking up counts as sleep. With Carter in a haze this gives Sade a chance to actually stretch. Stretching has been in order for hours now and it feels good to finally have some space to do it. Her bones crack. As painful as it sounds, the stretch was equivalent to an orgasm. One of which Sade hasn't felt in months. 

They share a double bed that is based on the wall where just on the other side, Carter's 14 year old sister sleeps. Why Carter doesn't change his room around is beyond Sade. It's how his father left it before he left them. His father has kids and a girlfriend in the States and left Carter and Carter's sister with his grandmother. Carter inevitably has 'daddy issues' as they call it. All of the normal fixtures are set how his father left them and that's how they will stay. Right next to his sisters bedroom. The walls are as thin as rice paper, you can practically hear his sister breathing through the wall.

Sade logs into My-book every morning to check her messages and notifications. To her surprise, no hate mail. She thinks to herself that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that she will be left alone for the day. Wrong. Little does Sade know J&C (Jameson and carlie) are riding to her house now on their long wait for her to walk outside. They're up to no good. Sade is clueless to this. But as long as they aren't online leaving anonymous comments on her blog or on her My-book, she is happy. For now.

Carter is showering, she knows because she can hear the bird call noises he makes when he gets into the shower. This means Sade can make as much toast as she can without Carter noticing that she is stress eating. The reason she is stress eating this morning is because J and C are not online, which means they're bound to pop up somewhere today and do something far worse. The other week they weren't online and she found herself being thrown into a shopping trolley and pushed into the shit infested pond in the middle of town. She cried for the rest of the week, it took two days for the smell of the pond to leave her hair and body. Her eyes were sore for four after. The attacks were getting worse. The only reason it seems that they hate her is because she writes a blog. They don't like things that they don't understand. She is the only known blogger in town. Sometimes she wonders if she should stop, yet she knows that the terror and pain they put her through does not compare to the relief that comes to her when blogging. She is a writer. It's how she calms her panic attacks. 

Today is the start of her new diet. She tries one at least every fortnight and they always fail. She is going walking this morning to walk off the eight pieces of peanut butter toast she ingested this morning. She has an off outlook on what dieting should be. Walking around the block and to the park will not make up for the amount of food she just ate. She walks anyway. Collecting pace, re-adjusting the sound on her Ipod. She senses someone watching her, maybe even behind her. Yes, there's someone behind her. Does she look? She thinks that maybe she is being silly. There's no one behind her, she just left, she would have seen them when leaving the house. But what's this strange feeling. Yes there's someone behind her. But too late. They have thrown a potato sack over her head. She is being held down. She feels scissors on her body. Her clothes losing elasticity. She hears a car in the next street with thumping music. She feels the breeze on her naked body. Her naked body?! She's naked! Her clothes have been cut off. They're in pieces around her! She unties the potato sack that was forced around her head and looks at the damage. The words ugly and fat written in permanent pen marker on her naked body. Her clothes cut off, nothing left of them. The car she heard in the next street is entering the street where she lays naked and defenseless. Teenage boys with excessively loud music ride past in their crappy cars but key to freedom. She sees the look on their faces, laughing and screaming, "Put some clothes on slut". They were not the people who did this to her. She knows who did this. She knows.