Running Scared.

Chapter Five

I pulled back the sheets and stretched. I was still haunted by the site of Derrick killing that girl. I looked at my clock and saw a note attached. I picked it up and it said, ‘Went out for a bit. I’ll be back soon’. I jumped out of the bed. Since he was gone, I could investigate. I brushed my teeth and pinned up my hair. I opened my door and said, “Derrick?” I wanted to make sure Derrick wasn’t here to catch me. Gladly there wasn’t an answer. I ran downstairs and looked everywhere. There was no sign of her anywhere. Not in the backyard, under the counter, in the closet, in my parents’ room, and then it hit me. We have a basement. That’s where creepy shit happens. I grabbed a flashlight out the drawer and opened the basement door. I walked down the steps and looked around. I finally found the light switch, to brighten it up. “Holy shit,” I yelled. The first thing I saw was a large black thing on the ground. It definitely looked body shaped. I tried to control my breathing as I approached it. I sat down the flashlight and slowly opened the bag. I saw her, the same woman. The bleach blonde girl. I put my finger by her throat to see if she had a pulse. Sadly, she didn’t have one. “Oh my god, she’s dead. She’s really dead.” I covered her up and turned off the light. Terrified I walked up the steps and opened the door to see Derrick. “Lola… what were you doing down there.” I was scared for my life, but tried to look calm. “Well I was looking to see if we had extra chicken nuggets.” He looked me in my eyes and said, “Okay, did you find any.” “No, nothing.” He kissed me and walked to the fridge. I sighed and followed him.

    As he opened the fridge door, I asked, “So who was the supposed actress you were making out with.” He slammed the door and looked at me. “Why do you want to know,” he asked. I looked at him condescendingly. “Okay, her name is Angela.” “Not anymore,” I mumbled. “What.” “Nothing,” I said quickly. He grabbed me and slammed me against the fridge. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna hurt me. I guess that was a lie.” I pushed away from him and walked upstairs. I was glad I didn’t have sex with him. I slammed my door and threw my pencil holder at the wall. “Lola,” Derrick said while knocking, “Come on, I’m sorry okay. Can we just talk?” I opened my door and said, “Talk? You slam me against a fridge after you promise not to hurt me. And you want to talk. Don’t even touch me again.” He burst through the door and threw me on the bed. “I’ve been so patient with you. I’ve stopped hurting you, and started loving you. And now you just cut me off. Oh no, I deserve a little something for being a gentlemen.” He started unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt. I tried to run, but he only slammed me back down. He pinned my hands down and started raping me. He bit several times, being I guess gentle but rough. I cried out in pain for every single second of it. He finally finished and got off me. He got dressed and didn’t say a word as he left.

    I could barely move. My whole body ached, especially the parts where he bit me. How could I be so blind? I should’ve thought it was weird when he beats me up, then starts being nice and kissing me. He’s a monster. I used all the strength I had to get up and take a shower. I felt so dirty. My first time was a rape. How a horrible way to remember that. I stripped down and made sure the water was hot. I scrubbed myself raw. I sank to the shower floor and started to cry. My step-dad was I guess my lover or boyfriend, a husband, a cheater, and a murderer. What have I gotten myself into? I turned off the shower and walked back into my room wearing a towel. I grabbed the duffel bag from under my bed and began packing it. I packed everything I needed. I put on black jeans, a red sweater, and a pair of red vans. I walked downstairs to see if he was even sorry. He laid on the couch drinking a beer, laughing at some show. He didn’t even seem sorry about what he did. “Dick,” I mumbled as I walked to the fridge to get a soda. “Aye,” he yelled, “Where you going.” I turned to him and said, “What I’m supposed to wear, stay in nothing?” He laughed and said, “You loved it.”  “Oh yeah, I loved being raped by my moms’ husband. Who by the way is a man whore.” He threw the beer bottle at me. “Shut up, I actually like you.” I laughed and walked back upstairs.