END OF DAWN

"Do not pleasure him, Code. I need him in pain."

Said the only r*pist in the room. I heard him unzipping and my heart crumbled. Perhaps, he is about to take over. He is going to show this Code how a prey should be eaten.

I focused on the sound of the zipper, picturing what the voice was about to do to me when Code's unexpected thrust brought me to gasp.

"Arrgh!"

The pleasure I felt a while ago disappeared as Code clung to my waist and pounded in all might. His moans became louder and that told me he was after a climax.

"Uhh!" He exhaled and deepened his rod, slamming my hole to his satisfaction, with little mercy.

"Stop... Please."

The pain was unbearable yet I gripped tight. I held unto the strange sensation that came from his every hard thrust.

Yes, I felt pleasure amidst pains, and grew confused on which to focus on – the pain of being r*ped or the pleasure of having my first s*x.

****************

GREG:

That is my definition of life up to this day, a Friday morning as I left my bed to the bathroom in the early hour of dawn. I have no record of how and when my system adjusted fully to the cockerel's hour without a sound of an alarm, but I continually look up to it.

Waking up and leaving the house early to the bus stop where I could pick up the school bus before everyone else, is such a morning priority for me and I have never missed it.

The school drivers encourage my timekeeping. I do not spend a second past my pick-up time at the bus stop. They are disciplined enough to use a clock and appear on time which fuels my consistency.

As the first student to enter and alight the bus every day, each newly hired bus driver would always comment on how they looked forward to knowing me, the student, being told of by the previous driver.

This made me popular only among the school bus drivers and the second student to be picked after me every morning.

It is a long drive to the second student's residence. He resides in an average man's area; a typical definition of 'neighborhood'. It is unbelievable to know that the school rides such a place. The dwellers think so too.

They stand in the same awe expression when the bus passed by every morning. It is indeed warming to see the luxurious school bus driving through the low street blocks.

Well, the school can't avoid it, it is part of the privileges the scholarship students receive. Apart from free tuition, transportation is equally provided.

The second student is tremendous with his grades; he is a classmate. Only a worthy brain can make D'Caprias's bus overlook a neighbourhood like his.

Mornings in his area ain't quiet, it is noisy and the atmosphere smells of poultry feeds. I'd enjoy the sight of the busy public anyway; they booze around so early like they haven't slept a wink. It is an adventure for me and I love it. His family entertains me with scenes too.

His sister who looks younger stands with him at the gate of their old model bungalow waiting for the arrival of the bus. She doesn't go to D'Caprias but she appears happier than the fortunate brother.

On the sight of the approaching bus, she would run inside the building where an older woman comes out in a hurry with a pack of food. She must be the mum. The trio will then begin their everyday humorous 'hurry up' displays for the sake of my entertainment.

Similar to him, students are picked up from and dropped off at their homes. The school management has left me be after thousands of complaints on how it is safer to be picked up at home but I insist on walking to the bus stop.

Although my parents agree with it, they helped to talk them off. They understood how bad it would rub my identity to accept the school's proposal, so, my mum assured the school I walked safely to the bus stop every morning.

Most students here are being driven to school by their chauffeurs, while attention seekers like my brother, drive themselves. Those who join the school bus are mostly considered scholarship students.

I wouldn't mind attending a less expensive school except my mother insisted I go to this school because she believed that the quality of a school depends on how expensive it is.

Getting a scholarship into this school isn't that easy but by the ways of arrogant rich kids, once one is labeled a scholarship student disregarding how much he studied for it, he is as good as nothing.

Nevertheless, being considered a scholarship student is a good cover as everyone pays little or no attention to me.

He, the second person on the bus, however, has tried to get me to talk to him with zero fruit to his effort. He'd smile and cling to his glasses every morning before settling right beside me.

I stopped wondering for a long time why he never gets tired of his same gestures towards me when all I could offer him is my emotionless stares. I have never talked and had the intention of talking to him in the future. His permanent seat beside me on the bus makes everyone think we are either brothers or friends.

Brother? Not him, mine is still on the bed, snoring at the moment.

And a friend? It is a non-existing noun for me.

I like how quiet and lonely my life is except in my family where I struggle to live the way I want due to their excessiveness.

Well, let's just say my family is famous among national healthcare and business reporters.

Not to disparage my family like my younger sister always points to me, I will admit it is one of the wealthiest in the country, if not the wealthiest. There isn't any daily news without my family's name stealing the headline.

My father has accumulated such riches that he doesn't need to rush out of the house after me of course, to his office every morning. Yet, he does. The only vacation he takes off the office is that of a business deal in which he would stay months abroad and still go to work the next day on his arrival.

He is hardworking. I admire him, but it is too much for my eyes to contain. If a human can be labeled a machine, that would be my father who never breaks down to tiredness or sickness. He has never visited any of the family's hospitals in years and I don't think my mum is getting any luck in seeing him soo.

My mum is the nation's profound doctor, surgeon, whatever. No one ever told me about her field of the medical profession, I never asked, I don't find it relevant.

One thing I know is that all the family's hospitals under her care as the owner and the doctor in charge are the best in the country. She has in years built at least one hospital in every city in the country.

My family's wealth is that fairy dream of every living person but here I am, living with parents that made it a reality.

Well, I cared less.

Their riches and fame are making my life noisy and I live every day thinking of ways to lessen it all. My parents and siblings have appeared on every media screen over a billion times and still counting without me. As much as people know that my father has two sons, it is still a mystery to them what the second son looks like.

The media are cultured, there has never been anyone on my trail. No paparazzo has blindly ruined my hide. Sometimes, I'd believe Mr. Nazit, my father's chief security officer, has a lot to do with it.

My older brother enjoys the media and the attention it is fetching him. He is not only popular on everyone's television and phone screen, but he is also popular among the country's ladies. I'd listen to all the talks of girls with his friends, how he is bored with Miss A, ready to start up with Miss B, and admiring Miss C. He is the country's playboy.

I don't pity those girls for that is what they truly deserve when they greedily run after flock for his wealth and influence. He is handsome too.

Why wouldn't he be?

He is the only son eager and ready to spend the family's money and that is one thing my parents ensure he does at full cost. He buys and owns everything he wants. At such a young age, he owns the world.

At this very moment, he would be rolling on his bed until 9 A.M before he would magnificently walk himself to the bathroom and dress his ass to school. He will be graduating in the next three months. I am certain to be the only one keeping track of data in his academic life, James cares little about it.

We do not attend the same school. That would be a great mistake on my stake. If I care to maintain this anonymous life of mine, I need neither my elder brother nor younger sister in the picture. We are only related at home. Everything outside our mansion is different, especially that of my brother and I.

James keeps a basket full of friends, while I don't even know the name of the eye-glassed boy who sits beside me both in the school bus and classroom. He drives his expensive car to school whereas, I walk out of the house to the farthest bus stop to take the school bus.

His luxurious lifestyle breeds him lots of attention and the only thing that notices my existence is the ground I'd walk on and maybe, the eye-glassed boy and bus drivers.

I love the zero attention-gained part the most, for that is exactly what I intend to maintain throughout my years here in this high school and perhaps, in my lifetime.

I have attended this school without any media camera secretly following me like they do follow my brother buzzing for answers whenever my parents hit the headline.

I am still on the quest to know how my brother has the right answer to their questions each time I see him on the screen beaming with huge manly smiles responding like a pro.

He finds this entertaining. He takes forever to dress out of the house for he ought to be ready as always for the media.

As I am about to leave the house at 5:50 AM, Mrs. Grater, our old housekeeper who has refused to retire on my parent's pleas, has woken up before me again to get my lunch pack ready and make me drink a cup of milk as breakfast.

I don't mind getting this from the school's cafeteria but she has sworn to ensure I don't skip meals no matter how early I plan to sneak out of the house.

"There you go my boy," comes her voice from the doorway.

She triumphantly handed me the glass of milk.

She has once missed doing this because I left the house earlier. She nearly died of heartbreak. I disliked how I kept the old woman the whole day when I was told by my brother that she refused to taste a thing saying she would punish herself for failing to feed her grandson. My brother skipped school as well to console her as she cried over my hungry stomach.

Hungry stomach, of course not. I overfed myself at the school's cafeteria on that day, if she had known.

I also never tried to sneak out on her again because I haven't forgotten how I had such a terrible night after she made me eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner all at once. Again, I do not want to be a gateway for James to skip school.

"Morning Granny."

I took a sip of the milk and returned the glass for I was in no mood to taste anything this early, I never have been.

I had no chance to refuse when she supported the glass with her palm back to my mouth...

"All the way, now drink up, drink up, up.....ha..ha!"

She kept singing as I gulped down all the liquid. Granny has never been seen as an employee in the family. She is recognized fully as the oldest member of the family by every one of us. She is the only one who has the leverage to lock up my dad in his room one morning after he arrived from a business trip.

She knew my dad would come down again to go to work the next day, so she woke up earlier to lock him up, demanding he take a day off to rest. Despite how cold my dad looks, she never feared him like other employees.

My dad has no option but to beg Mrs. Grater to open up the room that he promised to come back early that day and rest, which he did for dread of being locked up in his own house again.

"Thank you, Granny," I placed my lunch pack in my bag as well. I ended up calling her Granny since she wouldn't stop treating me as her real grandson.

"Off you go my boy," she said while adjusting my backpack.

My brother once accused her of taking extra care of me than everyone else. Of the truth, I can tell she loves me and she should be proud, the feeling is mutual.

I have this special relationship with her. She pays keen attention to my mood and most times, sings and dances to lighten it. She'd succeed at every trial. Even when I try to ditch her efforts, I find myself laughing out loud.

I don't have such a relationship with my mother. I once caught her looking at Granny and I in the kitchen when I helped with the dishes, talking and laughing. I know I saw the jealousy in her stares but was told it wasn't after I talked to my brother about it.

"Mum can never be jealous of Mrs. Grater, we are family and family do not get jealous of each other. She must have been touched." James confirmed that night as we played a video game in his room.

My brother might look expensive and unapproachable on the outside, but he has never given me any reason to keep away from him. We talk about everything. Yes, everything.

He might have laid down a lot of people in his life but he has never hurt me. He cares for me just like he is obliged to as his younger brother. This is why I don't dislike how he mistreats other people, I think they all deserve it, especially the ladies.

I left the house at exactly 6:05 AM and walked down the deserted road sniffing every freshness of the morning with a few public sweepers, doing their job.

A couple of early morning joggers swiftly passed me and I turned to them wondering if they feel the warmth of the morning as they jog too. "I should jog sometimes," I thought.

It might improve my body structure but I know it will remain a thought. I do not like exercising or engaging in anything that can make me sweat...I rather remain this slender and unstressed.

The male jogger half turned as well to stare at me. The curiosity in his eyes sent his thoughts to me in an instant. I do not blame him, it is not usual to see a student up the street this early.

The city looks so beautiful and fragile at this hour until the dwellers like my brother wake to corrupt it with their noises. It is never noisy around here though, everyone tends to be mature and self-indulgent.

As I got closer to the bus stop at 6:35 AM, I halted out of shock at the loud bash of a black van in front of me. I wasn't sure if this was an accident or...when I saw two hefty guys with face masks jump out of the van.

One swiftly placed something over my mouth and nose before I could register their faces. It then occurred to me that I am about to be kidnapped. I struggled hard to free myself from their grip.

My struggle was useless. I was overpowered within seconds. I think this might be me, facing my last minute on earth. I was crowded with unimaginable dark thoughts and fears. I shook hard to free myself; I could fight until my last strength.

The countless quake of my body was a failure, the grip was tight and whatever was placed on my nose was suffocating. At this moment, everything became blurry and unreal. I felt my body floating in the air as I drifted into unconsciousness.