Im a Nobody

Im A Nobody - Chapter 6

Mitchell's p.o.v

I remember it all.

I don't want to, but my head is making me.

You think I could make myself stop? But its like Im tied to a chair being forced to watch my deepest, darkest, hideous memories I swore I would never think about again.

We always used to share food. We were not aloud but we took care of each other, like a family.

I was only seven at the time, and one day I was getting looked at, because I could have got bought.

I remember I was so excited but, apparently I was not good enough for the owners and their needs. That night the owner did something to me I never imagined doing: the owner touched me when I was alone and no guard was there.

He had made me strip down the my trousers when his wife left the room. He was going to 'make sure I was not sick with any diseases'. But when he started to touch me I knew it was not how he should be. He started with smoothing back my hair, which I had washed the day before. Then down my neck giving me random kisses that made me what to vomit, he ran his hands up and down my chest touching my nipples squeezing them to make them hurt. I started to cry but he would not stop and no one would help.

I was taken by surprise when grabbed me by my penis. He started to move his hands, on top of the fabric of my trousers. He frightened me because the only thing seperating him and me was my trousers. But even as I cried and begged for him to stop, but he only hit me in return. 

The man turned around and he would start touch up my back from my bottom. Licking and nibbling on my neck as if in search for something, while poking me in the butt. Making me cry harder as he forced his finger inside me.

The only thing that ran through my mind was: "Why is another man touching me?" and "Why is not anybody helping me?"

I started to cry out when he had me pinned to the floor, still touching me. He continued to nibble on my neck and rubbing me down there, making me make ungodly sounds while he made some himself. When he was finished he left and I was laying numbly in sticky gooey stuff, that wasnt from me, yet from him.

I was hit, curse at. He gave me a black eye and a few broken ribs.

Nobody came for me, until a couple days later. A guard came and picked me up, carrying me to the infirmary.

I never talked to anybody when I was let out, I never told anybody. It was not like they would care. I'm a nobody correct?

I was eight now, and I was now able to tell if anybody asked, why I was at an auction house: my mother sold me.

For punishment, I was getting dragged around outside with a rope around my neck, getting pulled harshly outside on the cement. They were amused seeing me get hurt, see me cry, and for me to beg for them to stop. They were slowly killing me, suffocating me.

I was bloody, bruised, and cut all over my body. Rocks sliced my skin and kicks were placed upon me by onlookers.

Some of the cuts were so deep, that I had to get them sewed together after my punishment, and multiple bandages wrapped on them; I was not to be shown for a while after that.

I was starved for seven days after that. Nobody was able to feed me or give me water and if they did, they would be punished, or hung. They all obeyed and I felt betrayed. I was not talked to, or even looked at.