"Natasha!" My Mom shouts my name from the kitchen.

"Yes mom," I reply.

"Come downstairs, please," she tells me.

Ugh.

I groan loudly as I rip the duvet away from my legs; the cold air hitting them like a brick. I then proceed to switch off my tv, and drag my legs down the stairs.

"Yeah Mom," I ask as I lean against my arms on the marble tabletop.

"Sweetheart, we're out of salt, and I really need some to make dinner," she replies, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

I don't like where this is going.

"Sooo, why am I here?" I question, even though I probably already know the answer.

"Could you pretty please run to the shop and buy some?"

I knew it.

"Mom, no!" I whine childishly.

Yes, I know, I'm lazy.

"Please Sweetie, not even for me?"

Oh no. She did not just go there. She did not just use emotional blackmail.

"Mom! That's blackmailing!" I stand my ground.

She ain't gonna succeed.

"What if I buy you some Matchmakers?"

She did not.

My eyes widen, and I immediately put my hand out to my mother. "You have yourself a deal," I say quickly.

She smirks in triumph; shaking my hand while at the same time handing me the required amount of money. She knows my weaknesses too well.

Sure. Ain't gonna budge.

***

The moonlight shines brightly; lighting up the desolate street as the rays hit it perfectly. The stars are like a million little lightbulbs; brightening up the blanket of darkness.

I walk through the streets; the money jingling in my coat pocket. I watch in utter awe; admiring the beautiful night atmosphere.

Freedom.

Nervousness and fear take over me as I round the corner. I suddenly feel extremely conscious, as if somebody's watching me. Whipping my head around, I find nothing but an empty alleyway.

You're just being paranoid Natasha.

As I continue to walk, I hear loud footsteps behind me. I feel as though I am being followed.

It is then that I decide to quicken my pace; silently praying to myself.

Soon, I am running. I will my feet to move quicker, but it's of no use. Something, or someone grips my hand tightly; turning me around and slamming me into them.

An unwavering scent of beer takes over my nostrils; the strong intoxicating smell causing me to scrunch my face up in disgust.

I look up to sought the identity of my unknown captor. As I look up, I meet the hungry Blue orbs of a man. He looks to be in his early twenties, his hair styled into a quiff. A terrible one,(May I add). His blue orbs are full of lust as they rake my body up and down, savouring every last detail. His face nears mine; the vile stench of beer getting stronger with every inch he moves. Unwavering fear takes over me as I begin to see the reality of my situation.

He's a horny, drunk, twenty-something year old. Alone in a dark alley way, with a seventeen year old.

This can't end well.

"Why, hello there," he begins, in a deep raspy voice. I can smell the desperation on him.

If he's trying to be sexy, it's not working.

Digging his ragged hands harshly into the sides of my shoulders; he grabs hold of my body and hauls it towards him.

I squirm in his tight grasp; attempting to escape this situation. My attempts all go in vain, as he instead tightens his grip on me. His fingernails dig harshly into my skin, and I feel a liquidy substance drip down my arm.

Bitch.

"Want to have some fun?" He whispers seductively into my ear; sending a chill down my spine.

Not the good type.

"Let me go," I scream.

I don't know why I said that, as if he would actually do it.

"Now just why would I want to do that?" he answers; a smirk adorning his features.

"Please," I whimper; a sob threatening to spill.

He isn't going to stop.

He leans towards my neck; forcefully tilting my head up, gaining better access. He plants a sloppy kiss at the nape of my neck; biting down hard on my skin.

A tear falls down my cheek as I struggle to free myself from his painfully tight grasp.

This is it.

He leaves a trail of kisses down my collarbone; quickly nearing my chest. Once again failing to free myself; I close my eyes and give up.

I'm not strong enough. I'm too weak.

His lips trail closer and closer to my Chest. My breathing becomes ragged; coming out slow and long. And soon enough, I'm a crying mess.

Just as I have accepted the inevitable; the faces of my entire class flash before my eyes.

Cameron. Vanessa. The football team. The cheerleading team. Everyone who has ever bullied me; their taunting words haunting me.

You're not Good Enough.

You're ugly.

Look at that loner.

Ew, why is she still here.

Hey nerdy Nat, how's it going you pathetic excuse for a girl.

You're too weak.

You're not strong Enough.

You're weak.

They all encircle me; crowding me while they walk around me, as they throw their cruel remarks.

You're too weak.

You're too weak.

You're too weak.

No. I can't take it anymore.

You're too weak.

You're too weak.

"I'm not weak," I whisper.

You're too weak.

"I'm not weak," I say a little louder.

You're too weak.

"I'm not weak," my voice raises more.

You're too weak.

"I'M NOT FUCKING WEAK!" I shout at the top of my voice; using every ounce of strength inside of me to push the man off of me.

He looks at me astonishingly; shock adorning his features.

"I'M NOT FUCKING WEAK! YOU GET IT! I'M NOT!" I scream at him; crying vigorously. Tears blur my vision, but I don't dare let that stop me.

He won't hurt me. I'm not Weak.

In one swift motion, I walk over to the man; pushing him hard with all of my might. He lands on the floor with a loud thud.

But I'm not done yet. How dare he think he has the right to hurt me?

I near his limp body on the floor, and powerfully kick him in the face. He lets out a groan of pain; blood dribbling down his face, out of his nose.

I'm strong.

"I'm not weak," I whisper to him. "You understand?" Even in this drunken and beaten state, he manages a small nod.

"I'm not weak," I repeat, this time more to myself than to him. Once again he nods.

"I'm not weak," I back away from the man. He nods again as he takes this opportunity to get up off the ground, and scurry away into the darkness.

"I'm not weak," I continue to say. My legs wobble; my knees beginning to give out.

I fall to the ground with a loud thud. "I'm not weak," I hug my knees; curling up into a ball.

"I'm not weak," My eyes begin to feel droopy; an overwhelming sense of drowsiness taking over me. All energy is drained from my body, as I lay there limply,with my tear stained face.

"I'm."

"not."

"weak."

And then, I am out.

I take it back. It can end well.
***

Hi guys! I know, this is short, but the next part was very long, so I decided to do that in a separate chapter! Anyways. How emotional was that? Poor Natasha. I didn't want this to be like other stories where the guys just comes out of nowhere. Literally, nowhere. And saves the damsel in distress. We females are strong. We don't need no man. We can save ourselves. But hey, she beat the demons.

And to anyone who is being bullied, ignore the fuckers. Don't let them walk all over you. You're not weak! You are strong! You can fight the demons. And you will come out stronger.

Ari x