Free The Darker Side of Trey Grey by Tara Spears Page B

chuckled, as I bolted out from underneath him. His laughter tormented me all the way up the stairs and to my room. I threw up in my trash can before collapsing on the floor. I hated him. I hated that he was right. I did like it sometimes. I was dirty, tainted, perverted. I was sick just like he was.
    * * * * *
    My eyes flew open, focusing on my mattress in the waxing light of early dawn. Easy, I’m okay. I rose up releasing the pillows I had been gripping. Relax, just a bad dream. Oh god, I had been fucking both my pillows, how had I managed that? I began to tremble. Relax. I flexed my fingers. Just a bad dream. Nothing to freak out over. I moved the pillows and felt the slime all over them, on my thighs, it was everywhere. Filthy. Dirty. My body shook violently. I moaned as the bile rose in my throat, and threw myself onto my hands just as I coughed. Yellow slime trickled out of my mouth onto the mattress.
    Swiping a hand across my mouth, I stumbled to the shower. Tainted. I grabbed the sprayer from the corner, and began coating myself with bleach. My mind spun out of control as flashes of my abuse ran amok. God, make it stop, make it stop .
    Vile, dirty, Trey. Tainted. I am. I am. I am. Sick child that fucks anyone. And you liked it. You liked being raped. No. No. No.
    * * * * *
    So cold. My teeth were rattling in my head. As I opened my eyes, my brush came into view. It was dyed red with little flecks of pink stuck into the white bristles. The shower was still on, but I was already so cold I was beyond feeling the icy sting. There was a pool of crimson beneath me, fading to pink where it joined the water. I closed my eyes again.
    * * * * *
    Pain dragged me too consciousness, forcing me out of the shower. I crawled to the door, and pulled myself up. Reaching out, I turned the water off then fell onto the bathroom floor, my body too stiff to work right. I felt myself fade off again.
    * * * * *
    I came to with a pounding head, screaming stomach, sore jaw, and a throbbing ache along every inch of my skin. I couldn’t fathom a reason for my existence right now. I just wanted it all to go away. Why couldn’t I just die and start over with a new life? With my luck it would be worse than the one I was living. However, I wasn’t sure I cared anymore.
    God smote me, and I felt a trickle of heat push along my dick. Fuck, I was peeing. I grabbed myself, struggled onto the toilet, and winced when the urine pushed out in burning blasts. When my bladder finally emptied I sagged against the wall next to the toilet, shivering and sweating.
    How long have I been laying here?  Awhile obviously. I glanced down at the bathroom rug. A little puddle of dark urine was soaking into the beige yarn, joining the large blotches of blood. I toed the rug over on itself. I’d throw it away later.
    I stayed on the toilet until my ass fell asleep and began to prickle. I forced myself to pee again then staggered to the main room and directly to my normal closet . I pulled the spare flat sheet as well as my heavy winter blanket from the upper shelf, and managed to get them both around me.
    Turning, I lurched to the chair , and dropped ungracefully into it.
    * * * * *
    “We need an ambulance at the University of Washington. Breton Hall. Second floor. There will be someone waiting to escort them in. Attempted suicide we think.  No—” 
    Someone was touching me. Messing with my eyes , and pushing on my neck.
    “Jerry, he’s coming around.”
    “He’s waking up. We’ll be waiting. Thank you.” 
    Was that the Dean? What was he doing in my room?
    I cracked my eyes. “I don’t need an ambulance,” I mumbled.
    Tom, the dorm supervisor, frowned as he pried my eyelids the rest of the way open.
    “Trisha, can you get him some water please?” Tom called over his shoulder to a round middle-aged woman with hideous horn-rimmed glasses, and an even worse perm. “Trey, what did you do to yourself.” It wasn’t a question. More like a horrified