Dipping Into Together

Ch 17

I am looking at you, and you are looking at me.

Our eyes are locked and our bodies intertwined. I cannot honestly tell where my skin ends and your skin begins, because we are that close. Your breathing is as ragged as mine, but so much more beautiful. Your eyes are wide, and I am thinking to myself that they might be the most breathtaking things I have ever seen. And they are even better because they’re on your face, belonging to your body, which is wrapped so tightly around mine.

“Jonah I…”

“Good morning, sunshine.”

The voice is deep. The voice is ugly. The voice is scratchy.

The voice is not Jonah’s.

And all at once, I am awake.

And screaming.

Because Uncle is on me.

With his hands on my throat.

“Get off!” I scream. He squeezes tighter and I cannot breathe. I gasp but nothing comes in. So I just thrash around, trying to get him off, knowing that I can’t.

“You say good morning to me, you ungrateful bitch!” And all of the sudden his lips are pressed against mine. They are bubbly and disgusting. They make me want to gag. They taste like cigarettes and his whole body smells even worse.

I make a small, terrified noise, but I cannot breathe. I start to panic, actually panic. My body spasms out of control and I am writhing around on the bed, thrashing everything and nothing because I am still tied down and there for immobilized. But I thrash nonetheless. It is an instinctual reaction to the situation I am in.

And suddenly the pressure is gone from my neck, he has let go. His lips are off of mine, but still close. I turn my head and gasp in air, I gag, gasp in more air, gag again, and then throw up. I don’t know why, I don’t think you’re supposed to throw up after you’ve been choked.

But there is nasty bits of half-digested mushy burger spewed across the sheets and I don’t much care what I’m supposed to do. Uncle groans in disgust, then grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. He releases it, and then slaps me, hard, on my left cheek. I inhale in surprise, but make no other sound, trying to ignore the sharp pain.

“You disgusting pig,” he practically spits. All I can do is cower away from him, hoping he won’t hit me again.

As he pushes himself  (painfully) off of me and begins to clean up my mess, all the while muttering insults to me, I can only think of one thing : I must escape, and soon.

---

I am lying back against the bed, eyes closed, when I get the idea.

Eyes shooting open, my heart rate already begins to increase just thinking about whether or not I should actually carry it out. I don’t have much to lose, so what the heck. I will have to be careful and not show my real emotions, because one slip up and everything could go down the drain. I look out the window at the dark sky, and wonder if it will even work.

Just then, Uncle walks in with my dinner: a burger. I am so sick of burgers by now, but still, I’m starving.

“Hey,” I say, trying to muster up the most flirtatious voice I can.

He looks up, surprised, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” I say, “about earlier. I just, kind of lost control.”

Silence.

“Will you give me a chance to make it up?”

Silence.