I Don't Love You

...Forever

*WARNING* if you are sensitive to the subject of abuse and rape stop reading now.
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**the next morning**
I slowly started to wake up at the feeling of someone tapping me on the shoulder. "Good morning sweetie~" James softly said. I opened my eyes fully and looked at James. "Morning..." I said groggily. I tried to get up from the bed, but was held back by something holding down my arms and legs. I frantically looked around at any possible thing that could be holding me down and noticed ropes holding me down by my ankles and wrists. "J-James, what the hell?!" I wiggled around, trying to loosen the ropes grip on me, but to no avail.

James sighed to himself then crawled on top of me, kneeling so his legs were on either side of me and spreading his legs a bit. "What're you doing...?" I asked as he lightly rocked his hips against me, making me whimper. "Well I wanted to do some stuff last night, but you seemed pretty out of it, so I want it now~" I blushed at his words, but also cringed.

"James, you can't just do this to me!" I shouted. "Yes I can, Marshi~ I want you and I want you now~" he hissed as he leaned down and kissed my neck, leaving behind marks and making me whimper. "J-James... this is rape you know..." he just chuckled and looked at me with a certain glare in his eyes. "It's not rape if no one finds out about it~" I started to feel terrified. How long was he gonna keep me tied up like this? How long would I have to suffer his torture?!

• • • • • •

"I'm going to make dinner, spaghetti okay with you?"
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, slouched over and wearing only my boxers. My ass still hurts from what James was doing just a few minutes ago and it made me feel dirty...
"Yes," I replied.

So, so dirty.

"Alright, get dressed honey," he said sweetly as if he did nothing wrong. He left the room and I broke down. How could he have done that to me? Didn't he hear me cry? Hear me say no? What's wrong with him?! I wiped my tears away and slowly got up, my legs shaking and trembling as I walked to the washroom.

I opened the medicine cabinet/mirror and grabbed an empty pill bottle. Opening it, I was greeted with the familiar silver coloured blade decorated with old droplets of dried blood. After all the years I've had this particular blade, it's gotten more dull from being used and a bit rusty from using it in the shower a couple of times. I picked it up from inside the small bottle and put it to my wrist, giving myself a few cuts along my forearm. They were deeper than usual and spilled more blood. Maybe because I felt more pain at a time like this.

After I cleaned up the wounds, I got dressed in a sweater and ripped jeans then went downstairs for dinner. James was just setting down the plates when I made it there and he smiled brightly at me. "Oh, there you are Marshall. I was starting to get worried. I asked you to come down earlier," he said that last sentence with gritted teeth, as if he was trying to hold back from lashing out at me. "Sorry James," I said half heartedly and sat down at the nicely decorated table. I didn't know I owned such a fancy table cloth and candles.

I picked at my food, not really wanting to eat anything. My mind couldn't stray from the scene of James pounding into me over and over again... and the worst part is that he did it all day long. Over and over and over and over, all the way until now; dinner time. The sun has already set and I'm here picking at my food in the eerie silence of the dinning room while I feel James' piercing blue eyes staring me down. I look up at him to find that he is gripping his fork tightly, making his hand turn shades of white and pinkish red.

"Marshall, sweetie, why aren't you eating?" He asked through gritted teeth. "I'm not that hungry..." I replied, sounding bored and very tired I'm sure. "Marshi, darling, please eat your food. I made it just for you~" he said trying to sound nice. "I said I'm not hungry, I don't wanna eat." I pushed the plate of spaghetti away from me and got up from the table then started walking away when I was stopped by James who was blocking me from the stairway.

"Marshall, go back to the table now and eat your dinner. I'm trying to be a nice boyfriend and make you dinner, so eat it." He said angrily, making me start to feel a little freaked out. "James, it's just food. I can eat it later," I said, slowly backing away from him. He looked at me with an insane look in his eyes and reached behind his back, slowly walking up to me. I kept walking backwards, keeping an eye on him. "J-James... p-please stop, you're scaring me..." I muttered out just loud enough for him to hear. He didn't say anything and just kept walking closer to me until I was backed up against the wall and I could feel a few tears start to form in my eyes. He pulled something out from behind his back and stabbed it into the wall right next to my face and I flinched away.
  "You're. Not. Going. Anywhere." He took the knife out of the wall and lightly traced my face with the dull side of the blade then let out a sigh. "You would look so pretty with a slit throat, don't you think~? But since I love you too much, I don't wanna fuck a dead body. Now, my dear, go back to the table and finish your dinner then we'll go upstairs and have some fun, alright~?" He now had the knife to my throat and I tried my best to stay as far away from the blade as possible. He kissed my cheek then moved the blade away from my throat. I stood there and looked down in fear. I didn't want him to hurt me anymore... but it was either a slit throat or him violating me again.

  With shaky legs, I made my way back to the table and I sat down then started to eat. James loomed over me, casting a shadow that made it hard for me to see my food. I eventually finished and kept my head down in shame without saying a word. "Now stand up," he ordered. I slowly pushed my chair out and stood up still not looking at him. "Go upstairs." I didn't say anything and just followed his orders. My feet felt heavy on the steps as I made my way up to my room and James followed me. I made my way over to the bed and sat down, still without looking or speaking to James. "Do you want to take a shower first? Your hair is looking kind of greasy," James said. Without thinking about the details of his question, I nodded and got up and went to the washroom; James followed.

  He closed and locked the door behind us then looked to me. I started to get undressed, taking off my sweater and shirt, but James stopped me before I could continue. "Marshall, what is that?" He asked, looking at my arms. I forgot about the cuts I had given myself before dinner. "They're cuts," I said in a monotone voice. "Stop doing that, I don't like seeing you hurt." HE'S one to talk, he fucking raped me! I sighed, knowing that the only way out of this was to listen to him. "Fine, I'll stop..." I feel like that was a strangely hard thing to promise. Cutting was my only relief, the only way to take away my mental pain. I didn't mind the scars too much, they served as a reminder to what happened. My 'battle' scars as Bubs once called them. I miss him so much... I needed him so badly at a time like this... who knows how much damage James can cause in the one month that Bubs will be gone? I guess I'll have to find out.