Bravery saved me (complete)

Bravery saved me

Prologue/chapter one
~~

I numbly felt this rough fingers slowly trailing down my leg, his bitten nails scraping at my pale skin. "You're so beautiful." He whispers, his voice is deep, scratchy and loud in the silence.

I numbly feel him jerk apart my legs, but I feel almost nothing. I'm sure he's drugged the food I eat, so when he comes for me, I'm almost coma like. But the drugs wear off hours later, and I'm left crying in pain.

But that was weeks, maybe even months ago. Being kept in a room, blocked out from the sun, or even reality, you lose track of time.

I see him position himself and I let myself fall into my happy place.

The day I was taken. Happiest moment in my life, yet also the cruelest. I remember it so well, every detail, every word spoken.

It was my fifteenth birthday, I'd woken up in my warm full size bed to breakfast in bed. Blueberry pancakes with bacon I remember. With a glass of pulp free orange juice to the side, often half drank and ignored. My mother and father proudly stand next to my bed with my six year old brother in front of them, they sing me happy birthday, their voices now contorted and haunting.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Scotty, happy birthday to you, happy fifteenth!

"I love you Scotty, your my baby boy, I've never been so proud." My mother adds softly.

The last words I heard from her.

My father leans forward and kisses my forehead, whispering how much he loved his fag of a son before stealing a piece of bacon. I never got offended or hurt, my dad was only playing, we were actually very close. I loved my dad. My brother, Greg, giggled and grabs my left hand before leaving a sloppily made picture in it. The picture is us, our family. I'd thanked him and set it on my old oak desk. I'd hang it later.

Hours later, I was ready to hang out with friends, I'd kissed and told my father I was leaving before setting out. I was so stupid. It was darkening, even if it was only seven, damn time change.

Lane only lived down the road, so I hurried. Nearing his house, it all went blank. That's how I ended up here.

My happy place fades too quickly and I'm left breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling. My body is roughly being pushed back and forth as he takes advantage of me. I've tried to fight, but I can't even move. Often I'm left to soil myself receiving laughs from this man. I'm filled with shame but I can't cry, my mother didn't raise a cry baby.

This was my schedule.
I ate early in the morning, a strange soup that tasted of soap with strange meat particles. But you get desperate when you're starving.

After I eat, I'm quickly to lay on my long past ruined mattress, hoping I wouldn't go numb on the floor. I'd get beaten then.

Then I would wait. I'd lay there, listening to the sobs of the others who are kept here. Like me, I'm sure they were taken. But no one talks. The only voice I've heard in so long, is the mans. He taunts us as he uses us. He teases us about how dirty and sick looking we are. I haven't showered or bathed, since my fifteenth birthday.

I'm sure it's been months. So long. I used to keep count, I tried so hard. But the drugs soon jumbled up my numbers and I lost.

Over this time, I've come to silence. The only thing in my head is my family singing, over and over and over again.

Suddenly I'm being flipped over, I'm slightly shocked. I've never been flipped before. I feel something poke at my back in deep long lines, something liquid And hot drips down my shoulders and sides and I'm left to the thought that he's cut me. I know I'll feel it in a few hours when it wears off.

Closing my eyes, I visualize my mother. Her soft creamy skin that seemed to never blemish, her frizzy long brown hair that she kept in a wild bun, her beautiful bright blue eyes that seemed to light up the room. I used to wonder if they missed me, I'm sure they did. I know I missed them.

Suddenly, the pressure in my lower half is gone, the room fills with lights before its simply gone.

"W-w-w-we-e c-c-can L-l-lea-v-ve." A horse voice says. "D-don't ea-at t-t-the so-o-oup. D-drugs."

I can't answer, I haven't spoken in so long it seems as if I'll never work again. But for the first time in a long time, I think about it. I know the soup is drugged. Could I get enough strength to escape? It was worth a try.

Mama didn't raise a quiter. I wasn't done with life yet.

~~~~~
AN/ This may be darker than my other two books, maybe more realistic. This is a romance, but it's not as fast paced as my others. Bare with me.
Comment and vote.
-LK