Behind Drawn Curtains

Chapter 5

A/N: This is excerpt for "Behind Drawn Curtains". The full story is available on Novelcat where you will be able to read the entire book - all 29 chapters, as well as the epilogue. Unfortunately this is the only part I can currently make available here. I will however in the next part, publish what I have left of the help list, and I would appreciate anyone that has information for their country, to let me know, and I will add it. 

As the moonlight shone in through the crack in the drawn curtains I knew I wasn't dead, which was a pity. From the moment I moved even the slightest, feeling the throbbing pain in my lower body I knew that not even death could have hurt this much. At least if I died somewhere while everything was black and I only relived my own voice screaming I did not have to come back and face the terrible pain that lingered like a sleeping dragon in my body.

I used my arms to drag me over the carpet. Not minding the burns it made on my forearms when my body was too heavy for just my arms to drag. There was no way that the burns would be as painful as the pain in my body when I tried to move my legs. I did not dare to look down at my body. I did not want to see the sticky substance I could feel clinging to my legs, still dripping down, reminding me of everything that had just happened. All I wanted to do was get under my bed, the one place where I might still be safe and might not be out in the open where the moonlight could see me. I needed to be somewhere in the dark... And as I crawled under the bed that was covered in dust, reminding me of my mom telling me it was time to clean under it, I drew the bedding down lower, hoping it would be like curtains. Hiding me from the outside world. Believing that if I could not see out, nobody could see in.

There I cried my heart out. I cried because of the pain and the feeling that my insides were about to fall out of me. I cried because of my life. I cried because my mom never saw what he did to me. That she could not guess why he disappeared from their room for up to an hour every single night. I cried because Chris liked me and probably wanted to do the same things to me than what James had just done. I cried because I lost Chris as a friend. I cried because there wasn't some god that could kill James in a flash for what he did too me. I cried because I have now officially lost every single part of myself that could have still been sacred. I cried because I was crying and nobody was listening or caring enough to do anything about it. And above all I cried because I did not die. I cried because I wasn't dead. I cried because I was too sore to pick myself up and walk to the kitchen to get a knife and kill myself. I cried until I could not cry anymore. I cried until the sticky mess on my legs were dry. I cried and rocked myself until the sun replaced the moon in shining through the crack in the curtains. I cried when I heard James having a shower, and getting ready for work. I cried because he left the house with the slam of the front door, not even caring enough to see if the thing he almost fucked to death was still alive. Only then did I cry myself to sleep.

I woke up with a shock going through my body. As I jerked my head around to see the red thing making the vibrating sound I could feel the pain shooting through my legs and up my body, trying to hide myself deeper under the bed, but the vibrating had already stopped.

It was only on the third time that I heard the vibration that I did not try and climb through the wall behind my bed and noticed that it was not the sound of the big red monstrosity.

It took every ounce of strength I had left in my body to crawl from under my bed and retrieve the phone that was still in the pocket of the pants I dropped yesterday when James told me to take it off.

It took me seconds to flip through the 17 missed calls and countless of messages that Chris had left, reading through them but not registering a single one of them. It was useless to give a damn what he wanted to say when all he wanted was to hurt me for his own pleasure in the future as well. I threw the phone onto my bed and then tried to finally stand up out of the position I was in, hoping that I could trust my legs enough to carry my weight. After two failed attempts I was finally standing and taking inventory of my room. The red thing was still there on the ground, staring at me, telling me that it would see my insides again. Something I was sure would never happen again. I would not let it happen. But then, on the other side... Why not? Why not just lay here day by day and let James have his way? I wasn't worth anything. Not anymore. I had lost everything. I was nothing more than James's little whore now. So with a limp walk I picked it up and put it in the top of my closet where I knew that James would not look, but where I would not see it either. Then I started picking up my clothes from the previous day. My shirt went directly into the trashcan next to my desk. The rest went into the laundry hamper. And then with a towel around my shoulders I limped my way through the pain to the bathroom across my room.