had

I caught you a month into high school,

your hands on his waist, and

your back pinned against the notice board

like a pornography poster,

as he matured you with his toxic,

beastly snogging.

what did a sixteen-year-old want

with an eleven-year-old?

sick, twisted, savage animal.

I walked up to you slowly, relishing in the rage that

was threatening to consume me. kieran noticed me first.

he broke away, a string of spit connecting your lips.

he sneered at me.

"what the fuck do you want, kid?"

"what do you want from skye?"

staring down at your breasts, he said, "whose this?"

"oh, him?" you wiped your mouth

with the back of your hand.

"he's only a friend."

stupidly, i asked, "why are you kissing him?"

"he's my boyfriend."

"boyfriend!"

"yes."

"you never told me."

that boyfriend,

that hideous monster said, "this loser is your friend?"

"I don't

have to tell you everything, declan."

"why? because I know this is wrong?

sixteen-year-olds shouldn't snog

eleven-year-olds, skye. he only

wants one thing from you."

"you sound like my mother."

"you know I'm right."

I don't understand why you let him kiss you the way he did.

maybe you did it to feel beautiful.

skye, you were never ugly.

why did you do it?

"just let me have this. please.

I want to feel mature."

you said, as we walked

home.

I shrugged my shoulders

and acted nonchalant.

but, at home, I ran up to my

bedroom, until my brother

burst in and yelled at me for

having my music on too loud.

then his face softened when

he noticed I had been crying.

"what's wrong? are you getting fucking bullied?"

"no." I said.

"okay. good. I'll kill anyone who does. just... turn down your shitty tunes."