Letting go of your throat he places his hand firmly over your mouth. The taste of your own juices and the fabric mix in your mouth. His hand moves and...it is replaced with a piece of duct tape. He grabs you by the shoulder and roughly flips you to your stomach before you have time to react. Your arms are painfully pulled and tied firmly with a length of cord behind your back. “And here I thought we could play nicely.”Rolling you on to your side he grabs one of your legs and forces them apart.. Wednesday, as we were walking from lunch to Geometry, Rachel nudged me gently.“Someone came to school looking happy this morning,” she whispered.“Me? I look the same as always.”“No. Francie. She was giggling all through our first period literature class. You know she’s a sweet girl but not the brightest spoon in the drawer.” I looked over at Rachel with an eyebrow raised. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the saying. “She’s taking the same Junior Lit class I am.”“I thought you were a sophomore,” I. More

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