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Pen
My anger is loud.
My rage is a beast that dances with the intent to maim.
My steps are ruthless, timed to perfection with the thumping beat of the song.
My bleeding heart knits together with every thrust of my hips, every flare of my arm, every turn of my head and kick of my leg.
My soul screams like a warrior as I use the table as my platform and dance as my weapon.
I’m not a victim.
Not tonight.
Fuck that.
Dax might knock his opponents out with lethal punches and kicks.
Zayn might slash his victims with the sharpened point of a knife.
York might crucify his enemies with fists that break bones.
Xeno might torture his adversaries with something far worse.
And Jeb might ruin lives with threats to the ones I love.
But tonight I’m fighting back.
Fucking like animals in front of each other isn’t a display of dominance. It’s for the weak, the vain, the narcissistic. I’m going to show everyone here what it really means to be powerful, because that’s why they’re here, right? Instead of, ‘my gun is bigger than yours’, it’s ‘my cock is bigger than yours’. Even The Belladonnas have played into that mentality and it’s bullshit. Fucking bullshit.
Tonight, all eyes are going to be on me.
But it will be onmyterms.
They can look, they can want, but they sure as fuck can’t touch.
I’ve had to endure years of my brotherbeatingme. I’ve had to suffer a lifetime of my mum’s wordsbelittlingme. I’ve had to withstandjudgementfrom people who don’t even know me. I’ve had to live the past three years in a permanent state offear.
This is my chance to take a little of my power back.
The song intensifies and so do my dance moves. I’m freestyling, yes. But this is more than a kid in a nightclub battling against other kids for kudos. This is me dancing for my life, for Lena’s life.
Jeb might have brought me here to be fucked, to keep up appearances, to hide who he really is, but what shows more strength, to follow the crowd or to act in defiance? When I arrived people just saw a vagina fit for fucking, and fucking alone. Grim had looked at me like I was a whore, and so did every other person in this place.
I’mnota whore.
I’m Pen and these bastards can kiss my arse.
By the time I’ve finished I’m going to be wanted by every man and woman in this place, but only owned by one. Jeb, the leader of the Skins. Well, at least that’s what I’ll allow him to think.
Because no one truly owns me.
No. One.
But if I can appease Jeb’s pride, his vanity, and his need to keep up appearances by being a spectacular dancer and becoming something other people covet, then I’d rather that than be used as a whore.
