Taken

Chapter 14

Wednesday 12th January 2014

Another loud sob racks through my body and I pull the duvet even closer around me. Everything hurts, and I feel dirty and disgusting, like some cheap whore. All I want to do is stay here, in this bed and cry myself to sleep, but every time I get close to unconsciousness my mind replays it all over again. It's like a film stuck on repeat and someone presses play every time I shut my eyes.

I can't believe he actually did it. Louis actually did THAT to me. It was awful; terrifying and painful. But the worst part was that Louis seemed to be enjoying himself, the sick bastard. I always knew there was something creepy about him and now my suspicions have definitely been confirmed.

Images of him above me, moaning my name in pleasure as he single-handedly destroyed my life, have been flashing through my mind ever since. No matter how many showers I have had, I can't seem to scrub away the feeling of his hands all over my body, of his lips exploring my chest, and of him just being everywhere. Next to me, on top of me, inside me.

He didn't take it to account that this was my first time. It wasn't gentle, loving, soft or any of the things I have always hoped for, and talked about with my friends. What is was, was rough, embarrassing, and excruciating as my small body desperately tried to compensate for his size.

I had, of course, tried to push him off me, or simply to stop him by any means possible, but it was to no avail. He had pinned my wrists above my head easily with one hand, like I was weaker than a mouse, and he silenced my pleas again and again my slamming his mouth against mine, leaving my lips puffy and bruised. Heck, I even bit him but the disturbed freak seemed to enjoy that too.

I just can't believe this has happened to me. If anyone had told me, a week ago, that I was going to be kidnapped and abused by the most famous boy band in the world, I would have referred them to a doctor. Then probably ordered a pizza. Yet here I am; battered, dirty, and sobbing. I don't feel like me anymore. All my strength and fight has gone, I just don't have the energy to be angry anymore. The old me would have gone at Louis with a fucking carving knife, but the girl I am now can do nothing but lie in bed crying until there are no more tears to cry...and then some. I am not the girl I was when they brought me here, and I'm seriously beginning to doubt that I'll ever find her again. Even if I do get out of here, which I'm starting to doubt will ever happen, my life won't be able to go back to what it was. I'll always be the girl who was kidnapped by a boyband. It will haunt me forever, and there's nothing I can do about it.

It makes me sick to think that Liam was a part of this too. He was all for Louis, or even himself, doing this to me, even though a couple of days ago I had regarded him as my sort-of friend. I always thought Liam was the nice one here, the only one who could come close to understanding me, and helping me. But I guess I was wrong; he's just as sick and twisted as the rest of them. No, not all of them, I remind myself as memories of the boys' conversation debating whether or not to go ahead with this flash through my mind, they didn't all want this.

A gentle knock at the door pulls me back to reality. Wiping my tears quickly, I pull myself up into a better position and call out a soft "come in". My voice is quiet and scratchy, worn out from all the crying I suppose. A familiar mop of curls pops round the door, followed by the rest of Harry, and a worried looking Niall. To say the two boys look awkward right now would be the understatement of the century and I can see the guilt in their eyes, reminding me once again of what happened, and also how these two boys tried to prevent it. When I remember this, I can't help but allow a small smile to tug at my lips. They fought against Louis and Liam, they tried to help.

The two of them sit either side of me on the bed and don't even say a word before sandwiching me between them in a comforting hug. I'll admit my description doesn't sound too great, but I finally feel safe again, with their strong arms wrapped around me, protecting me. But all too soon become suffocated, trapped even, and their strong arms which were comforting, now remind me too much of Louis', trapping me beneath him. Before I can stop myself, I burst into tears yet again, silently shaking and twitching. I hate myself for being so weak, but mostly I hate Louis for reducing me to the mess that I now am.