Nineteen

Nineteen,
I was nineteen.  
You were the friend of my lover,  
You were the sober one with the kids and family.  
You were supposed to be the normal one.  
You invited us to a barbecue,  
You offered steaks at your place,  
You said your family would be there.  
As soon as that front door closed and you came back to the house with me by myself I should have known not to trust you,  
shouldn't have taken that ride to your house to wait for my lover to get there.
Because when I walked into the rv parked outside your house my body was going to be sold to you for forty bucks.  
I screamed,    
I cried,  
I tried saying my goodbyes.  
With the smirk on your face and the shadow outside the rv window I should have known I was set up by my so called lover..
Once my friend showed up to my "lovers" house he told her where I was.  
As I ran to her car there he was,  
calling me a slut,    
chasing me,  
beating me,  
spitting on me.  
I should have known he said...