House Guests
In a house with three men, someone used me night after night and I still don’t know who.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this down. Maybe I just need to get it out. Maybe I just need to admit it. It was supposed to be just another sleepover. Me and my friend, both in our early twenties, wasting the day, gaming, eating junk, laughing too loud. His family was out of the country for the week, off somewhere sunny. He had the whole house to himself. Almost. The handyman had been staying for a few days, working o...