Traffic

Chapter Seventeen

The healing process was excruciating, but Kelly could tell it was nearing its end. Her father would occasionally scrape his wire brush over it to put Kelly in pain, but as the scabs hardened and took to the skin, it hurt less and less.

The day finally came when her father wanted to bed her as her skin was finally healed enough. He went into his basement and turned on the light, seeing Kelly laying there, pretending to be asleep. She learned that pretending to be asleep meant he left quickly since it was no fun to torture a sleeping person. Why he let her sleep, she didn't know, maybe he had some human compassion left in him after all.

"Wake up, bitch," he grumbled, walking over to the table, "I've been staring at your body for months now and it's been torture not to be able to touch it. Get up, we're going to my bedroom. If you're good, I'll let you watch the film when it's done."

Kelly opened her eyes in horror, but made no sound. He was beginning to untie her bindings and she wasn't about to make him angry enough to stop untying. She made a plan for when this day came. She was going to grab his wire brush, which was kept on a table very close by. When she had it in hand, she'd muster as much energy as she could to scrape it across his face, then kick him in the groin while he was holding his face.

After kicking him, she'd do her best to knock him over so it took him longer to catch her, then she'd run like hell. She'd run until she couldn't run any longer.

Her plan, however, didn't go as she expected. He kept a tight grip on her ropes and dragged her up the stairs, away from her weapon. Once out of the basement, she started counting, reaching 112. This was a force of habit. When she'd finished counting, she began searching for something – anything – to use to disable the man who had captured and defiled her.

When she reached his bedroom, she started searching for things. She saw, on his nightstand, a book. This was as good a weapon as any, so, when he pushed her onto the bed and began undressing, she waited until he was in the middle of taking off his shirt, so his face was covered, and grabbed the book, slamming upwards with it until she heard a loud cracking sound. Kelly's father yelled out in pain and tore off his shirt, holding his nose. The pain had, apparently, been enough to temporarily subdue him, so she went for it again, kicking his groin as hard as she could, a cheap shot, but an effective one.

Next, she slammed the book upward again as soon as he bent over, clutching his groin. The force of a second hit with a book to the face in just the right spot caused his nasal bone to come dislodged from the cartilage around it and be forced upwards into his brain.

Within a few more hits, the man was no longer a man. Kelly stood over the body, panting and wondering how on earth she could have done it all by herself.

"Take that," Kelly panted, "You...demon!"

She had managed to catch him off guard by buttering him up for a few weeks and when his lust finally own over, she managed to beat him. He was gone and she never had to worry about him again. She was free.

She wasn't able to get over the shock just yet, so, after shoving the bloody body into a closet and barricading it, just in case, she went to find some loose clothing to cover her naked bottom half.

After putting on an oversized t-shirt from one of the drawers in her late father's room, she went to the kitchen, jumping at every noise and whipping her head around at every movement she saw in the corner of her eye.

When she found the kitchen, she ate like she'd never eaten before, stuffing herself.

After taking a cold shower, she was dressed again into the oversized t-shirt. For the first time in almost two years, Kelly felt free. She felt she could finally relax and get a good night's sleep. So, she did just that. After making sure every window was locked, every curtain and shade shut, and barricading the doors with heavy objects, she went into a bedroom that wasn't her father's and lay down on the bed.