Page 5 of Breaking Boston

I take a deep breath and gather all the strength I have left. Without a word, I walk past Hayden and make my way to the bathroom, flipping my long blonde hair over my shoulder.

As I enter the stall, I can feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes. But I push them aside, knowing that this is just another day in my life.

The lights flicker off and on as thunder rolls through the city of Lynn, lightning following close behind, buzzing in my ears as I slip into the stall with Hayden right behind me. He shuts the door and turns the lock, facing me with a devious smirk on his lips.He's fucking gorgeous, but evil at the same time; guys like him usually are.

"Get on your knees," he orders, unzipping his jeans, and pushing them down to his knees as he takes his phone out, hitting record.

“Make yourself comfortable, dirty girl, and put those beautiful eyes on the camera,” he whispers, stroking his cock against my cheek.

I listen to him, knowing that if I don't, he'll make things a lot worse. The tile digs into my knees as I try to get comfortable,watching Hayden stroke his cock in my face. He rubs the tip across my lips, silently urging me to open them.

"We're alone now, Boston. You don't have to pretend you hate me," he grunts, thrusting his hips so his cock slides into my mouth before I can speak. “Suck me off like you fucking hate me. Give me that angry head… but don't fucking bite me.” Our eyes lock, a dirty smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

My hands on his thighs, I work my tongue around his shaft, ripping groan after groan from his throat as he fists my hair and gives it a firm tug.

I close my eyes and try to go somewhere else in my mind, anywhere but here. The taste of him fills my senses, suffocating me, but I continue to do what he wants. He pulls my hair and thrusts his hips as I suck him deeper into my mouth, his eyes on mine the entire time.

The bell rings, but he ignores it, watching in fascination as I suck his dick.

It's wrong, but as I swirl my tongue around him and ease him down my throat, I can't help but think about Lux, pretending it was him who I was sucking off. It helps with the shame I feel inside; letting these boys use me however they want.

"Fuck... that's it," he growls, pulling my hair so tight that tears prick the corners of my eyes.

"One of these days you're gonna let me in that pussy, Boston, and when you do, I'm gonna fuckingdestroyit." Another grunt has precum dripping on the back of my tongue, leaving a bitter taste lingering in my mouth.

Again, our eyes meet, just as his cum spills into my mouth in thick, hot strings, coating my throat as I swallow.

"You know the fucking rules; swallow every drop or I'll paint your beautiful face with it."

It feels like an eternity before he finally finishes, and I swallow every rope of cum—every drop—like he told me. He letsgo of my hair and tucks his cock back into his pants, grinning as if he's won. And he has...again. I stand up to wipe my mouth, feeling used and degraded.

Hayden smirks and zips up his pants, patting me on the head. "Good girl," he says before walking out, leaving me alone in the bathroom stall. The tears that I had been holding back begin to flow freely as I realize that I can't keep living like this.

I need to find a way out—a way to escape this life of torment and degradation. This isn't who I am. But to be fair, I havenoideawhoI fucking am.

I lock the stall door and sit on the toilet, reaching into my bag for my works. My body aches from withdrawal, my stomach cramps, and sweat covers my skin. I drop a little rock of heroin onto the burnt spoon, the clinking echoing in my ears.

As I draw up the water and squirt it onto the rock, the sickness inside my body starts to dissipate. Knowing I have the cure that will make me feel better is enough.

Once my shot is ready, I use the lace from my sweatshirt hood to tie off my arm, searching for a bulging vein through a maze of scarred, collapsed ones.

The dope takes my pain away; it makes everything better. It numbs me and prepares me for the next assault, whatever it may be. I've been dancing with the devil since I was fourteen, falling in with the wrong crowd at school. I went straight to the needle, never sniffing anything up my nose; anything to mask the pain from the loss of the only people who ever loved me. I've been mourning Lux and Donovan for far too long now, but I can't stop it.I don't know how.

I push the plunger, watching the dark brown liquid disappear into my vein. Instantly, I feel the rush in my shoulders, slowly making its way all throughout my body, putting me at ease.

I know this isn't a solution, but it's the only way I know how to cope and escape, even if it is just for a little while.

I need to find the strength to break free from the cycle of abuse and addiction, to find a way out of this toxic environment that has been consuming me.But how?

I want to find myself, to discover who Itrulyam without the cloud of addiction and the weight of the trauma I carry with me every day.

I want to heal, to grow, to find a life worth living. But for now, heroin is all I have to numb the pain, silence the memories, and survive, even if it is killing me little by little.

Walking home after another long,torturous day of senior year, the rain hasn't let up one bit. But that's okay. I still embrace it like I did earlier.

Not forgetting about Bobby's threat this morning, I make sure I stop by the packie, grabbing him a case of Bud Light and a handle of Jim Beam to go with it, hoping the gesture will get me in his good graces.

As the sky darkens and thunder rolls around me, I get that feeling again—the feeling of being followed. The dope allows me to remain calm, unfazed by the intrusion that's become my shadow over the years.

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