Fifteen

 I jumped on the couch with a smile on my face.

I laughed as the chase continued. 

I waited on baited breath.

I knew what was coming. 

It's that anticipation of watching someone fall but catch themselves at the last minute. 

I played a dangerous game. 

Here is was hunted.

At home I was a memory. A painful reminder.

But here in the blurred lines of care, lust, and control. I was someones. 

I was hunted. 

Two shots of hot speedy bbs hit my legs. 

I'd been caught. 

I held my leg and his cousin asked if I was ok. He did not notice me flinch as he touched my arm where the hunter carved his nickname in my skin. 

I brushed away my tears. 

Prey, do not cry. They either escape, or die.