TW: Assault, mention of SA, death
****************************************************************
***Amelia's POV***
The floor is cold beneath me, causing violent chills to rack through my muscles.
I've been awake for a while now.
Well, more or less.
Since seeing John, however long ago that was, I've drifted in and out of consciousness a few times.
One time, with blurred vision, I thought I saw one of the big brutes stalking towards me.
A predator rubbing his hands together greedily with a sick, twisted smile donned on his face.
I think I remember John telling the ape to keep his distance, but honestly, it's all a blur.
My whole body is sore. I covered in small, deep cuts that sting and burn with every small movement. I look down to my legs and arms, seeing a mosaic of deep purples and sickly blacks.
I don't know what has been done to me.
I don't know who has touched me, who has hurt me.
I don't even feel like myself.
I feel cold. So cold that I can't keep my teeth from clacking together, it's to the point that it's painful.
The constant chatter echoes off the walls and reminds me of how deep of trouble I am in.
I feel pain. Every nerve in my body screams and writhes beneath my skin, begging for relief.
I flinch when remembering Timothy's comment....
"Bruised fruit tastes sweeter."
I shutter.
I'm afraid I am actually going to die here.
I do my best to sit up, and to look at my surroundings.
Since being unconscious, I have been moved to a cell of some sort.
Sitting on a gray, wet, stone floor, I look up to inspect this space.
The cell is caged in with rusted bars, trapping and confining me.
I try to stand, only to notice that my ankles are shackled with rusted chained cuffs, similar to the bars holding me captive.
I inspect my ankles. The skin underneath the biting metal is red and swollen and angry.
Oh my god, that hurts so bad.
My eyes trace the chains, following to where the they lead into a hook in the stone wall. I notice a puddle of vomit splattered on the ground next to where my head just rested.
I must have lost my dinner at some point.
How long have I been here?
As if willing it on by thinking about it, I feel another wave of nausea crest over my stomach, causing me to wretch and gag until tears sting my swollen eyes.
My stomach is trying to empty itself but I'm already empty.
Physically and mentally.
What if I do die here?
What would my father think? That I ran away? Would he even care?
I then think of my mother.
A tear cuts through the dirt and dust coating my cheek.
YOU ARE READING
Loving Levi Greene
RomantizmAmelia Williams is a 17 year old girl, and newly introduced into the world of courting. After the loss of her mother, she is clueless as to how to maneuver through this shift in society. The only thing she knows for sure, is that most men are intole...
