Freedom [Complete, 18+]

CHAPTER 19: FREEDOM IN CHAINS

"Aaaahhhhh... please...no... make it stop, please...get off me....no, stop... HELP! Please, help me. Please, please don't!" I screamed as he held me down on dirty sheets.

"Be quiet. I said be quiet! Do as you're told, how many times does it have to be drilled into your head, pardon the pun," he leered obviously not sorry for the sick connotation. "...or shall I fetch her to persuade you to be more amiable" a sadistic grin clearly plastered across his livid face. 

I gulped and shook my head, I could take anything if it was for her. I would do anything, be anything for anyone if it meant that I could keep her safe and untouched.

"I thought so bitch," he sneered as he ripped what little clothing I was given away from my fragile bony frame and grabbed roughly at my breast.

I couldn't move, fear of what he could and would do, making me paralysed. His red blotchy face grew larger and blocked out any hope like an eclipse blocking the loving, lingering fingers of the sun as he invaded me brutally seemingly enjoying the painful cry that unwillingly stole between my lips. 

***

 Jerking awake I screamed: so loud that my throat was sore within seconds. Unable to scream anymore I resorted to sobs that racked my body. Eyes bursting open, wildly searching the room that in my childhood I had found to be safe, but I knew better now: nowhere was safe. Finally satisfied that I wasn't back at that place, I curled up bringing my knees up to my chin. I began to rock back and forth not wanting to fall back asleep, fearful of what more I could dream. The sheets were heavy with sweat, and I threw them off as the wetness was too similar to those that I had been thrown down on repeatedly though it wasn't just sweat that had marked those sheets. Legs shaking, I fell off the high bed and crawled my way hurriedly into my hidden haven I had made among my clothes in my walk-in wardrobe. Once laden with mirrors I had smashed them all, hating to see myself and eventually they had stopped replacing them. 

I dug my bitten down nails into my thighs to keep me awake as flashes still shuddered through me. It was clear as day to anyone that caught a glimpse of me that sleep was desperately needed if the deep circles under my eyes were anything to go by; but it was sleep that made me a prisoner again and so sleep would have to wait. I had blacked out most of the details for self-preservation, subconsciously burying the 'playtime' moments as they had become more frequent and increasingly unpleasant as they thought of new games and positions to play. Unfortunately every now and then, particularly when vulnerable in sleep, memories came rushing to the forefront making it impossible to forget and so make it impossible for me to do anything but constantly relive those moments over and over and over again. I couldn't escape them, even when in theory I had, at least physically that is. 

It had been several months since I was told I was saved but in reality I just exchanged one prison for another. The press still waited like vultures ready to pounce just outside the gates eager to take photos of the famous returned daughter. It made it impossible to leave, not that I would be able to even if I had wanted to. The 'bodyguards' that my parents had hired made it impossible for me to do anything so I just remained in my room, trying to distract myself in any way that I could. 

When I had first woken up at a private ward in a hospital with worried parents at my bedside I had thought that maybe something good could come out of this and it did for a little while at least. However when the main attention was gone I realised that their worry was just a facade for the press; milking the situation for every last drop gaining sympathy and attention to further their ambitions. I soon gave up pretending that we were a happy family like I once did and so I saw them even less. I gave up everything, there was nothing more of me to give.