Trigger warning for rape, abuse, violence, gore, and all that fun stuff. Don't read if you're not 18+ pleeeeeeeease k thx.
The sound of metal banging like thunder echoed throughout the alley, along with the sharp cry that rang with it as a small body hit the ground.
Today was a day low on energy, a day where they hadn't had anything to eat, a day where the pain was really bad. And being thrown against a dumpster didn't help. It was like they could feel the vibrations throughout every single bone, muscle, ligament, all the way up to their skin which burned and sang with agony as they slumped to the ground, shellshocked, defenseless.
A hand with dirt crusted under the fingernails, stained with oil and grease snatched at the ragged cloth of their shirt and lifted Miles up off the ground, blood trickling down the corner of their mouth as the sound of their heartbeat in their ears nearly drowned out the words being spoken to them.
"Aww look at this cutie, doesn't even wanna fight back! Since you're being so good we'll go easy on ya.~"
Miles's breath caught in their throat as they let out a wheeze of breath through their nose as another pair of hands suddenly grabbed at their hips and yanked the pair of loose-fitting, pilfered-from-a-trashcan-somewhere pants down their form; all they could do was whimper, paralyzed with fear as hands shifted and they were pressed up against the back wall of some slummy establishment, pinned there with hands to their back and shoulders as they heard the sound of unzipping and finally their brain started working again enough to remember how to beg.
"P-Please no, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry, please not again--" Their voice was strained, high in pitch and utterly hysterical as they let out another short cry as dirty fingers went into their mouth, pried their jaws apart and stuffed a wad of cloth in to muffle them and all they could do was squeeze their eyes tightly shut and hope it would all be over soon.
Maybe if they were lucky a stranger might come along and stop them--but they knew better than to hope for the impossible. A more realistic thing to hope for would perhaps be the idea that they would wreck Miles so badly they might bleed out here in this little alleyway and that would be the end of that. Yet despite how much they did want that, everything in the very core of their being that had been placed there since birth reminded them again and again how wrong it was to give up like that, to just give in and disgrace their family for ever even considering such an option.
So with nothing left to give, the pain too great and their limbs to weak to fight back all they could do was hope in their heart of hearts as the ringing in their ears drowned out the sound of their shirt being literally torn off their tiny frame to reveal the bandages wrapped tightly around their midsection several times over, was that someone, something, anything might smile with good fortune upon them and help them out of this mess.