Warning! The following material is offensive to some. Read at your own risk. Don't say I didn't warn you!!!_________________________________________________________________
Horrid dreams filled my slumber yet again. I couldn't breathe, as if someone's fingers were closing around my neck and squeezing tightly.
My feet were off the floor and my slim fingers hurried to shake the man holding my throat. I tried desperately, but my attempts were fruitless and my eyes started to become dull. Tears fell down my face, but I wasn't crying.
My mouth was opening and closing quickly, like a fish struggling to breathe without water. I guess after some point, I just stopped trying.
My once thrashing legs now hung numbly under me. I could hear pants of the man strangling me, as if my suffering was making him tired. Right as I was about to black out, he dropped me onto the hard concrete floor.
My body hit the ground with a loud crack.
Maybe I had broken a rib cage? At this moment I couldn't tell because my body just slumped to the ground in defeat.
My cheek was pressed against the cold cement and I frantically tried escaping. Before I could even consider the idea, my hair was yanked back and my shirt was torn off of me.
Callused hands ran up and down my trembling body. They grabbed anything they could touch with my squirming. I knew this was going to happen. All because I didn't "service" him as he had so desperately desired.
His hot breath tickled my neck as he continued to touch me. I tried everything-kicking, biting, flailing. I couldn't scream, for my mouth was gagged with a dirty towel. Even if my mouth had been uncovered, no one would hear me or even care.
My shorts I had once had were ripped off and thrown across the floor. His hands traveled deeper and became more violent.
My escape was, at this time, useless.
Pain filled my lower abdomen and I knew he had done it.
He laughed at my demise and genuinely enjoyed breaking me apart.
All of my pride had diminished.
After some 25 minutes, he stopped gathering his belongings and left the room, leaving me face-down on the floor. Violated. Whimpers and sobs erupted from my mouth, as I crumpled into a tiny ball in the corner.
When I gathered the willpower I needed to stand, I stumbled over to my tattered clothes (or what remained of them) and slowly put them back on.
My fucking legs wouldn't stop shaking.
Each step I took towards the rusted bucket by the cellar door, felt like I was climbing the worlds tallest mountain. Once I had achieved my goal, I bent over on my knees and threw up everything I had. Minutes passed and I started dry heaving.
YOU ARE READING
Blood Hound
RomanceA girl who has no name and is always alone. She is only driven by the sake of survival. She tries to be tough and never speak her feelings, however there is one person who can seemingly see through her. A bartender, with a tragic past who feels lost...
