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|chapter three: tape two|

Tape two... I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

Neither can I Louis, neither can I.

Right, do you guys remember that art project thing where you were put with a partner and had to make some sort of collage? Wait, you can't answer- never mind.

Don't remind me, Louis.

Anyway, this is about that. No it's not about the partner I was put with- she was nice- it's about the certain friend that she brought over while I was at her house.

I'm sure you're sitting there knowing it's you, aren't you Eleanor?

Eleanor Calder. Beautiful girl, really; ugly personality though.

The day started like any other: wakeup, eat, survive school, go to my partners house. Nothing was different. Except for when you walked in, Eleanor. Now, I'm sure you're all thinking 'How could Eleanor do anything wrong? She's perfect!' No. She isn't. Cause that day, she stripped me of my innocence and I suppose my partner was partly responsible but I'm not gonna blame her cause she wasn't there.

As you all know, from that day with Stan my reputation could only evolve into something worse. And it did.

I slowly rose from my chair, padding over to my bed dragging the Walkman with me. Listening intently, I buried myself in the galaxy of white sheets that mounted my bed.

My partner had said she needed to get some stuff from the shop that was about twenty minutes away. We couldn't do our project without it. Twenty minutes was all you needed, wasn't it, Eleanor? The moment she'd left you were on me like a moth to a flame. I felt overpowered and vulnerable. Your hands were roaming up and down my body and while I pleaded for you stop, you only smirked and carried on.

You told me this was what I did; sold myself for other people's pleasure. Your hands continued to move up and down my body and you slowly removed your skirt and your underwear as well as my own. I felt disgusted- not only cause I'm gay and vaginas repel me- but cause of your intentions. I was crying, Eleanor. I was crying but you carried on.

I heard his voice crack. His pretty little angel voice wasn't supposed to crack. He wasn't allowed to cry.

You didn't stop. You didn't stop when I screamed and you didn't stop when I tried to run. You didn't stop when I tried to push you off me, you continued to bounce reaching your high. The only sounds that filled the room was the moans spilling from your mouth and the whimpers escaping mine. And when you'd finished, you simply put your clothes back on, patted my head and left. Simple as that. Not one word uttered.

So I left the house; crying and wheezing, a hot mess really. And I went home. The next day was different. It wasn't just people whispering about me and trying to stick rulers up my ass, but they were now throwing money at me. Laughing and joking about how I would do it for one pound. I was now known as a prostitute. I felt dirty; disgusting. The self hatred I felt for myself was so strong it scared me. You took away my innocence even when I begged you not to. I had one thing to use against me being a horny teenage boy and that was the fact that I was a virgin. Not anymore.

I guess the upside was that you weren't pregnant. If you were though, I would kill that baby just like you killed me. No- I probably wouldn't. But I'd take it away, no matter how hard you pleaded I wouldn't stop. And you would be left broken and sad, just like you left me.

And that, Eleanor, is why you're on these tapes.

I didn't realise I was holding my breath until the tape ended. I knew I had to get out, get some fresh air. I grabbed the tapes from my desk and stuffed them carefully into my backpack. I trudged out of the room, shoes in hand, and left. No goodbye, no note, no nothing. Just my un-made bed and footsteps trailing in the carpet.

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