The leader, perplexed, looked over to see what had happened. All of the guys were crowding around him, confused. He appeared to be unconscious.
"What the hell just happened?" the leader said coldly, glancing at each of the guys in turn.
"He just fell boss..."
"He has a heart attack or somethin'?"
The guys just continued to stare at the fallen guy, completely amazed. I was very still, so I wouldn't attract attention. I wanted to keep myself clean for as long as possible.
After a while, the leader shook himself as if from a dream and said, "Just pull him over to the side, we're not gonna let him spoil our fun."
Some of the guys picked him up and slid him to the far corner of the room. The leader turned back to me, his eyes greedy. I didn't breathe, I knew this was the end of my 15-year streak of keeping my body mine.
He reached down for my arms, and grabbed my wrists.

* * * * *

Just as he was about to rip my arms away, there was a clatter behind the line of guys drooling over the fact of seeing a live girl body.
It couldn't have been more than two seconds later when two more guys fell down unconscious, and standing between them was a boy. He couldn't have been much older than eight, but he had a look about him that made him older. His eyes, black as coal, stared coldly at the leader holding my arms. He was holding a crowbar in a position like a baseball bat, ready to hit the next guy who dared to come closer than five feet.
Behind him stood another boy, who looked like an older version of the little eight-year-old. He was also holding a crowbar, but he had a different look about him. He looked furious and wild, his black eyes flashed pent in anger. If he hit one of them, he would kill.
When the guys saw them, they immediately backed up. Standing beside the little boy was a dog. His mouth was parted into a snarl, pearl white teeth gleaming; ready to tear out a throat as easily as breathing.
I glanced up at the leader, and he wore a look of complete confusion. But he quickly covered it up with anger. He let go of my arms, and I took the opportunity to cover myself tighter.
"What do you kids think you're doin', huh? Tryin' to mess with me and my crew? You might not wanna do that."
But neither boy said a word. They both just stood silently, not moving a muscle. They were scaring me now; just the way they stood could make someone run for the hills.
"What, cat got your tongue or somethin'? Say somethin'! Or are you dumb?" he suddenly got a gleam in his eye. "You're dumb, aren't you? You're both dumb! Whatcha gonna do? You can't scream for help or nothin'. You mine as well be invisible. Come on boys, they're no threat to us. Let's get on with this, I wanna to get laid right fuckin' now and no dumb boys and their pet dog are gonna stop me." he reached down for my arms again.
"You touch her again and we'll use your head as a basketball, you shithead."
The leader froze midway to my wrists.
"Who said that?" he said coldly.
"I did you asshole."
The leader turned and looked at the line of guys. But they were all looking elsewhere. He followed their gaze and his sight fell on the eight- year-old boy.
"Yeah, I said it. I'm no mute, you dumbass. Lay one finger on her and I'll bash your head into your feet, and I'm sure my dog would love to drink your blood after a long day of traveling." I stared at the little boy, completely amazed.
The leader looked furiously at him. "You dare to threaten me, kid?" his tone was deadly.
"Yeah, I dare fuckface. You wanna lay a hand on her? You better kill us first."
The leader got up and walked toward him. He cracked his knuckles, smiling. "This'll be easy, boy-"
But he didn't even get to finish his sentence. The little boy, with surprising agility, leaped from his spot and whammed the crowbar into the leader's head.
Blood immediately splattered everywhere, landing on his crew. They screamed and ran for the door, and in ten seconds all the guys were out and all was left was a bloody body. The leaders head had been bashed inwards, you couldn't even see his face anymore, it was just a mesh of flesh and bones.
The little boy stood two feet away, looking at his damage.
"Yep, he's dead. I tried to warn the assfucker."
He turned to me, and gave me a small smile. "I never like doin' that... but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."
The dog padded over to him and obediently sat down at his feet. He was a large dog, a German Sheppard. His black spots contrasted his light brown fur, gleaming in the dim light. He had a puppy look on his face, and I had a feeling the dog was no more than a year or two old.
I stared at them both, in complete shock. But it was his next move that threw me over the edge.
He took a step forward and crouched down next to the body. He then picked up the leader's hand and placed it on the crowbar, then slid it up and down. He looked over at me and said, "Just to get any of my fingerprints off of it so it will look like a suicide. I'd rather not get mixed up with the police."
I just watched, dumbstruck, as he then lay the crowbar across his head and in his hand. Then he stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, completely casual, as if he did this everyday.
"Okay, we better get out of here. Let's go."
He walked to the door, and he realized neither his dog nor I were following. He turned around, looking around the room as if searching for me.
I looked down at my bare chest and then back up at him, hoping that he would understand.
"Oh right, sorry... you'll probably be needing a shirt... Mike? Hey, Mike? Come out, we need your shirt."
The older boy came out from the shadows, his furious look gone from his eyes. Now he looked timid, and he kept on looking everywhere but me. I noticed that he had to be at least 17. He was tall, probably six feet, with brown hair down to his ears. His eyes weren't completely black like I thought they were, they were a dreamy dark brown. He was skinny, but not too skinny, he looked at most one hundred and eighty pounds.
"Mike, unless you want her to go without a shirt, which I'm sure she would not like to do, just give her yours. And don't argue."
Argue? He hadn't said a word the whole time.
Mike looked at the ground and reluctantly stripped off his Metallica T-shirt. My eyes widened in surprise. Not only was he skinny, he was muscular. He had a six-pack, and arm muscles looked strong enough to kill someone with one punch. He tossed his shirt at me, which landed perfectly across my upper body. I tried to sit up with difficulty, suddenly remembering that my whole body hurt from the damage that had been inflicted onto it. Mike's face grew concerned, and a few seconds later, when I couldn't get up, the little boy's face did as well.
By then I had finally managed to get into a sitting position, but I was sobbing silently in pain as I did. The little boy took off his shirt and handed it to Mike.
Mike handed me his brother's shirt and as I covered myself, painfully, he took his own shirt and slipped it over my head.
The world seemed to stop as he, with gentle hands, carefully gripped my arm and raised it into the shirtsleeve. It was just me and him, staring at each other.
In a burst of pain, I felt his thoughts, muddled and confused, and his feelings, mixed and unreadable. I felt his very essance rage through my head.
It seemed like nothing of the outside world could touch me, I was trapped in my own mind. Black and unseeing, but full of a world I had never known. I was suddenly seeing memories upon memories, films of pictures that he had seen.
But just as suddenly, everything stopped.
I was back in the room, covered in blood and bruises. I was breathing shakily and silently, trying to catch my breath. Mike was staring at me, his dark brown eyes quietly searching me. I stared back, my blue eyes piercing through him. I never did know how long we stayed like that, but it seemed like an eternity before he stood up and looked away.
The little boy stared, his German Sheppard loyally sitting beside him. He then blinked a few times, and seemed to regain his conciousness. "Alright, well, we should be off. umm. can you walk?"
I tried to stand up, and succeeded. I tried to take a step, but my legs screamed out in pain. I bit my lip, trying not to cry.