Willow had just dropped me off at home and I immediately noticed my aunt’s car in the driveway. I released a low groan knowing there would be questions about my day. Besides Willow, my aunt was someone I hated lying to so I was hoping to avoid this talk altogether.

“Lake how was your first day as a senior?”

Stressful.

“It was good. I don’t have any serious classes besides English and French.” That’s good, Lake. Keep it going. With any luck I could bullshit my way through this conversation.

“Well that’s great. So…did anything happen?’

Shit.

She was fishing and I knew what she was fishing for. Ever since I fainted in the parking lot she’d get a worried look in her eye whenever school came up. I’d work so hard over the years to keep my school life away from home and now it seemed that everything was coming to light.

“No. It was pretty uneventful. Some guys got into a fight today.”

“It wasn’t over you, was it?” A teasing smile spread her lips as she watched me.

“No. Nothing like that.”

“One day. You’re too gorgeous not to have it happen.”

“Aunt Carissa, I don’t find the idea of being fought over like table scraps, appealing.”

“And that’s what makes you such a strong girl.” She kissed my forehead and resumed preparing dinner as if she didn't just send my world crashing.

I wasn’t strong. I was anything but. I’d let a single guy isolate me my entire life and now he was after me in the worst way and I was too afraid to stop him. After the playground, he’d made it his personal mission to make me fear him. His threats were always done in secret though and I never knew when they were coming. I touched my neck, absently, thinking about the most terrifying time he threatened me…

* * *

“But I don’t want to go in there with you. Please don’t make me.” I had been walking down the empty hallway, on the way to the bathroom. Everyone had class, including me so I wasn’t expecting to run into Keiran. Literally. We rounded the corner at the same time and collided, causing me to fall on my rear while he watched me with cold eyes.

“Shut up. I’m sick of your whining. I haven’t even done anything to you yet,” he gritted in a deep voice. Not long ago his voice had become rougher, making him even scarier. It also made me feel strange in another way but I didn’t know how to explain it. My aunt did tell me that our bodies would start to change after puberty so maybe that was it. He had just turned fifteen after all. Gosh, I hope my voice won’t become like that when I turn fifteen in six months. Boys already didn’t like me.

He pushed past me, into the janitor’s closet, then gripped my wrist and yanked me inside before shutting the door and closing us in with the darkness. My breathing became uneven as I started to panic from being enclosed in such a small place with him.

“What do you want?” I wanted my voice to sound strong but it trembled along with my body. There was only the sound of his erratic breathing so I squinted, to see what he was doing.

“Open your shirt,” he ordered. I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest and took a step back but the shelves behind me told me there was nowhere to go.

“What? Wh— why?”

“Why what?” he snapped.

“Why do you want me to open my shirt? You’ll see my—”

“I won’t see anything, stupid. It’s fucking dark.”

“So why –.”

“Just do it,” he said impatiently. I was fourteen and already self-conscious about my body, especially because I knew what my shirt hid. I was a late bloomer so my breasts were new to me and I wasn’t all that comfortable with them. My hands dropped to the buttons on my shirt. After the first button it became harder and harder to continue but somehow I did until the sides of my shirt were lying open.

“I – I’m finished,” I whispered. I heard him suck in a ragged breath and just as he did I could feel something cold and sharp against my neck before it trailed down to my chest and stomach and up again. A knife? Did he really have a knife?

“Do you feel that?” I could feel his breath on my skin and knew he was close. The hard point was now teasing one of the hard points on my breast and I shivered involuntarily.

“Yes.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“A knife.” My voice was small as I answered him.

“No,” he said softly. I felt a sharp nick and winced silently in pain. “That’s your life coming so close to ending. Soon, Monroe.”

* * *

I remember going home later that day and finding dried blood on my shirt and skin and realized he must have cut me. I often wondered if it was by accident or intentional. After that, I never chanced going to the bathroom alone.

“So are you sure you’ll be okay staying by yourself for six weeks?” My aunt’s next question snapped me back to the present.

“I’m sure. This is big, Aunt Carissa. You shouldn’t miss it.”

“I just feel awful about missing your birthday.”

“No worries. You know how I feel about my birthday.”

“Oh honey…”

“Really, it’s fine.” I shifted from my feet, hoping she wouldn’t bring them up. “Are you still mad at Susan?” Susan was my aunt’s agent and friend. They’d been through thick and thin since the start of her career.