Lies My Mother Told Me

Chapter 23: Positive or Negative...

RECAP FROM LAST CHAPTER

His hands gently massaged my back. "Matt, please not again," I begged as a tear escaped my eye. "Shhh...if you let me do what I want...you won't get hurt," he whispered placing kisses on my hair. He took my hair and took a big whiff and groaned. He was so sick. "Matt, please. I'm begging you," I cried. "Shutup!" he yelled and slapped me across the face. I winced in pain and held my cheek. It stung and send little sharp tingles in the area he slapped. "Undress and this time I get to watch you," he ordered. I did as what I was told and stripped for him in disgust. His eyes raked up and down my naked body in pleasure. I had become his own personal sex slave.

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Chapter 23: I Can't Be

His breath brushed against my hair steadily. Every touch was so careful. My self-worth was slowly deteriorating. Tears cascaded down my cheeks. He kissed them away. I flinched back as he kissed away the tears. He slowly pushed off my green mesh shorts. I whimpered as his big hands ran up and down my thighs. I tried to think of something else nothing would work. His hands were so cautious. Almost practiced. And for the first time ever, I prayed. Prayed that I could be anywhere but here. Prayed that this would never happen to me again. Prayed that anybody I loved would never have to go through this. Who am I kidding? I love no one. Only Luke. And this has already happened to him. I knew god didn't listen. Why should he? After all, it was I who was praying to him.

My eyes thankfully blinked to life. I hated thinking about that. I hated dreaming about it. A dream. I could only wish it was a dream. Too bad it wasn't. And it was all real. Every touch. Every thrust. Every word he said. Was real.

My stomach began to churn and I gagged. I punched the futon in frustration. I thought this damn thing would go away! Every second passing by I felt more and more nauseous. This feeling haunts me in the morning. This feeling is the reason I've actually considered taking my life. Have you ever thought about that? Killing yourself? It's actually not that bad. If you think about it, my worries would go away. I wouldn't have to worry about anyone or anything. Just rot in hell by myself. It's where I'm going after all. Why not go now?

The Internet told me 4-6 into someone's pregnancy you start to go through "morning sickness." Matt raped me...about a month ago. It scares the living shit out of me. A few months ago I didn't even know what the hell sex was. And now I'm pregnant? With Matt's child? Steven's fucking father? Kelly's fucking husband? How would I tell them? Would they even believe me? They would hate me. Along with everyone else in my life. So if everybody hates me why don't i just kill myself? It would be so much easier.

The damn feeling interrupted my thoughts, god I was gonna puke.

I sprang off my bed like a jack-in-the-box and ran for the bathroom. But I didn't make it. I could never hold in my vomit.

My knees buckled and I collapsed to the ground. Tears and throw-up. Oh joy.

"Dammit Summer!" Steven yelled. Great! I thought I could get away with this. Throw-up, clean it up, and no one would know!

He was instantly by my side. Holding back my hair. Rubbing my back. Whispering in my ear that everything was going to be okay. For a minute I actually believed him. Then reality crept on in.

"Steven?" I choked out.

"Yeah?" His grip on my waist grew tighter. I buried my face deeper into his chest taking in his smell. It somehow, I don't know, calmed me down. Made it alright. How did he always do that?

We layed there for about an hour. His arms were wrapped around me and my arms were tangled around his neck. I drifted off to sleep and I bet he watched.