after they met her

thirtyfive

trigger warning - abuse

i v a n a

I couldn't breathe. My chest felt tight, like an iron band was squeezing my ribs, making it impossible to draw in a full breath.

Everything hurt—my head, my lungs, my heart. Pain pulsed through me in waves, each one more intense than the last. I couldn't concentrate on anything.

My thoughts were jumbled, a chaotic mess of fear and confusion. Why was this happening? What did I do wrong?

The world around me blurred and darkened. Sounds came and went, muffled and distorted. It was all too much.

I tried to focus on something, anything, to ground myself. But all I could feel was the overwhelming sense of terror . Terror so deep it cut through the fog of confusion and stabbed right into my soul.

How could this happen?

How could he do this to me?

I thought he liked me.

I gasped for air, the action more of a reflex than a conscious decision. My lungs screamed for oxygen, and I managed to pull in a ragged breath before a hand grabbed my hair, yanking my head backward. The sudden movement sent a sharp pain through my scalp, but it was nothing compared to the panic that surged through me.

Water dripped down my face, mixing with tears I didn't even realize I was shedding. My hair was soaked, the wet strands clinging to my skin. I was disoriented, unable to make sense of anything.

All I knew was that I needed air.

I needed to breathe.

But the hand holding my hair tightened its grip, and before I could react, my head was shoved back into the water.

I screamed, the sound muffled and distorted as it left my mouth and became bubbles in the water. Panic took over again, my body thrashing instinctively, trying to escape the grip that held me down. My lungs burned, every fiber of my being screaming for air. I needed to breathe. I needed to get out of the water. But his grip was too strong.

The water was cold, the chill seeping into my skin and bones, adding another layer of discomfort to the already unbearable situation. I could feel the edges of my vision darkening, my strength fading. I fought harder, desperate to break free, but it was like fighting against an immovable object.

I felt my body weakening, my movements slowing. I couldn't fight much longer. I couldn't breathe. My mind screamed in terror, but my body was giving up, surrendering to the inevitable. The betrayal hurt more than the physical pain, a deep, searing agony that threatened to consume me completely.

Just as the darkness started to close in, the hand yanked my head up again. I gasped for air, coughing and choking, my lungs desperate to take in as much oxygen as possible.

He had a dark and twisted voice, dripping with a sickening sweetness that made my skin crawl.

"Iva," he said, his tone almost affectionate, "do you know how much I love you?"

"I'm doing this for you," he continued, his voice eerily calm. "To make you pure again. To cleanse you of the devil inside you."

He pushed my head down.

The water filled my nose and mouth again, and I thrashed desperately, my lungs burning. He pulled me up, and I gasped, choking on the water that filled my throat.