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I lied in the bed with my knees pulled tightly to my chest. The clothes that had once covered my body, were thrown carelessly on the ground. The mans breathing loud in my ear as tears fall from my eyes. The rustle of the covers is loud in my ears as I swing my legs to the side of the bed. The cold air biting into my skin.
I push my body up and walk over to the mirror. Where I stare at my reflection. The bags under my eyes show my fatigue and my ribs budging against my pale skin show how close I am to malnutrition. My hair that had once been healthy and brunette color, now stringy and reminding me of the spaghetti that mom would make when I was little.
Grabbing the scissors, tears still streaming down my face I cut at my hair. Not caring if it's even or not. The memories rushing through my head. The man that now sleeps in my bed, faces as he climaxed. His tight grip on my hair as he uttered the most disrespectful names in my ear.
Before I can think I'm driving the scissors into the mirror, a pool of brown hair at my feet. I start screaming as the shattered glass falls around me. Sliding down the wall I continue to cry, the scissors still firmly gripped between my fingers. The sound of a belt buckle wakes me and in front of me is the man that just raped me. A shocked look on his face, he walks towards me. His hands up as a sign of mercy.
"Continue walking and I'll drive these scissors into your eyes," I bark.
"Someone get me out of here with this crazy bitch!" He bellows. His face reflects that of someone that's scared of death. His eyes bigger than I'd ever seen. His face no longer holding lust as he stares at me. He starts howling.
"That's going to get you nowhere. Actually," I say standing up. My sanity like a thin piece of string. "Tell me-um what exactly is your name? I'm pretty sure that I have the right to know. Since your dick was just inside of me".
I stand patiently waiting for him to answer my question.
"Answer me dammit!" I scream, pressing at my temples. Vibrations racking my head.
"Marcus" he whispers.
"So tell me, Marcus, do you make it a habit of raping the former rulers of mafia estates. Or was my name randomly pulled out of a fucking hat? Tell me and I will only ask you once, I will not wait, okay?" I say, grabbing at my short hair.
His breathing loud and he utters, "N-no, I don't make it a habit. Listen Mich-".
"NO! " I scream. "Not Micheal!You Marcus. Micheal didn't rape me you did! Answer my question with no excuses. How about let's play a game," I say, laughing. Only making him inch closer to the wall.
"Every answer you give that I will actually take, you get to keep one of your fingers. Every time you don't there goes one of your fingers. Why fingers? You know how I dug in your back with my fingers? To tell you to stop? Well, yeah," I say, walking around the room. His eyes following me.
"Youre sick, you need some help, " he says, shaking his head at me.
"I'm far from sick. I'm the Mafia Ruler," I whisper, more to myself than him.
"Anyways, Do you know how old I am?" I ask.
"N-no," he says.
"Wrong answer" I say, pushing him to the ground. His struggle nothing to me as he pushes roughly against my legs.
"I see," I say laughing. "You using your fingers while you have them. Well, just for the struggle, I'll cut more off," winking at him.
Spit flies from his mouth onto my face. I bring my hand up to my face, swiping the spit from my eye.
YOU ARE READING
His Amour
Romance"Only you, Rosaline, have the power to destroy me" I advise you not to read if you are not of age. There will be mature parts, as well as language. Read at your own risk.
