Tessa's Home

Thirty

Tessa

Bang!

My heart's beating out of my chest.

My tears are mingling with the sweat from my forehead.

My arms are shaking so much it's hard to keep them in the air.

I drop the gun in my hands and fall to the ground with it, sobbing loudly. My cries echo off the walls of my prison. I can't stop looking at him. I can't stop watching the blood trickle from his head.

I count each drop of blood like it's a hobby, hugging my knees to my bare chest.

I'm a murderer. I'm a killer. I took someone's life, just to keep my own. I'm no better than the man I just killed.

I'm no better than the man that is keeping me here.

Locked up. Vulnerable. Terrified. In pain. His to use. His to abuse. His to possess. His to have, any way he wants me.

His toy. His sex doll. His punching bag. His accessory.

His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His. His.

I'll always be his.

"Get up," Viper grits out, pulling me up by my hair. I grab the hand he has on my head as he drags me out of my cell, completely bare, and throws me against the shower wall. He turns the cold water on and I shiver as it hits my face, but I keep my eyes down. Keep my thoughts to myself.

All I can see is his dead body. The blood I caused. The way the bullet pierced his forehead and the way he flopped onto the ground.

All I can think is that I'm a murderer. I'm evil. I'm aweful. I'm bad. I'm a life-taker. If I ever escape, I'll be escaping right into another prison. I'm a criminal.

I'm barely fifteen. A fifteen year old murderer. I'm going to hell. I swear I am.

I yelp out when Viper puts a hand around my throat and squeezes. He looks down at me with cold eyes as I beg him with mine.

"Please," I squeak, my tears mingling with the showers cold water.

Will he kill me? I just killed one of his men. Using his very own gun. Using the one bullet in it that was meant for him.

Will I finally die, tonight of all nights? Will I really die, on my very own birthday? Will he really be so cruel?

Before I pass out, he lets me go. I breathe in as much air as I possibly can before blowing it all back out again, coughing onto the floor.

"Pathetic," Viper spits, looking down at me with so much disgust. So much hate.

He tells me he loves me and then he tells me he hates me. I'm not sure which one is true. He must hate me. But then why doesn't he kill me? So, maybe he really does love me. But then why does he hurt me so much?

It's all too confusing for such a little girl.

I'm just a little girl. I'm just fifteen. Isn't he too mean to someone so young?

I just want it to be over already.

After scrubbing me raw, Viper throws me back into my cell.

He makes me live with the man I killed for the next two days. His rotting corpse smells so bad I have to swallow the bile that rises in my throat every time I take a new breath. Flies are parading around his body like he's food, and so many juices have oozed from every opening he has.