Happy Birthday?

The five minutes between the phone call and now were sheer agony. Shark honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend to be asleep.

Though, it would soon be a moot point. Once again, Shark heard the door to the room open. Thinking it was his father, the boy kept his eyes shut. He hoped that the other person would go away.

There was no such luck. Instead of receding footsteps, they approached the makeshift bed. Then, Shark was yanked up by the hair. He then felt a knife pressed against his throat.

"'Suuuup?" The word sounded slimy and venomous. The teen felt a cold sweat on his skin, and he shivered in terror. "Your old man didn't tell me how cute you were." The blade then disappeared away from Shark's neck.

The boy's relief was short-lived, however. He then felt his perpetrator's knife slide towards his shirt. The fabric was easily cut, and the other man sliced through Shark's top meticulously.

"Quit squirming, will ya?" Shark's now hacked apart shirt was thrown to the side, being nothing more than useless scraps of fabric at this point. He struggled even more as the knife approached his jeans. Said struggling earned him a hard slap to the face. A heavy sigh followed.

"Nothing personal, kid. I'm just following your daddy's orders. Just stop moving around, and let's get this over with." The man held down Shark's legs as the very sharp blade cut his jeans apart. Shark closed his eyes, cursing that this was the one day he decided to go commando.

The perpetrator's hand was surprisingly warm, as it slid over Shark's bare back. The boy felt his bindings being slashed to pieces, and he felt his arms and legs go free. His hair was grabbed again, and he yelped when the duct tape over his mouth was suddenly ripped off.

Shark saw his father by the doorway, quietly observing his son being felt up. For whatever reason, the boy was too scared to call out for him. He simply stared at Dennis, feeling confused and betrayed.

"Hey, boss," Shark's assailant asked while looking over his shoulder, "you want this done a certain way?"

Dennis shrugged. "You can warm him up, if you like, Mister Rotter. I won't come in until he's good and ready." Shark's father then turned his back on the two, covering his ears and shutting his eyes. He briefly looked over at his son, opening one eye and grinning.

"Don't you worry, boy. Sinbad here will take good care of you." He said it so insincerely. He then took two steps and shut the door, leaving Shark alone with the man named Sinbad.

It was beginning to get dark out. Shark concluded that school ended an hour ago. Chances were Lolly went to a friend's house. He didn't hear her shrieking at him to get out of the bathroom.

Instead, the boy heard a few gentle taps on the door, followed by his mother's raspy voice.

"Shark? Shark, you've been in there all day. What, did something go wrong yesterday?" The last time Shark went to his mother about something related to his family, she slapped him and told him to stop making up lies.

"Look, if you're not going to come out, can I at least come in? Your grandma stole my hair dryer again, and I need to get ready for work." Shark got to his feet, and grabbed the hair dryer on the bathroom counter. He opened the door just enough to reach his arm out and hand it to her.

He then closed the door, locking it and slumping against it.

"You'd better be out of there by the time I get back, Shark."

"Love you too, Mom," the teen muttered sarcastically.