For Charlotte Davidson dancing is the only thing she loves. Apart from food.
Moving wasn't on the list of things she wanted to do just before her senior year, but with her past catching up to her she doesn't have much choice. Crossing paths with an...
Shock was evident on my face. He was standing in the living room with the TV on, he was watching some irrelevant show. I walked into the kitchen, placing my bag on the counter.
"What are you doing here, Collin?" I said whilst my hand was creeping into the knife drawer.
"Do you not want to address me as what I really am?" He replied still watching the TV.
"Which one would you prefer? Asshole or prick?" I muttered, my fingers curling around the handle.
"What did you just say, bitch?" He shouted. He wasn't watching the TV anymore, his eyes were staring me down, daring me to say my previous response.
"N..nothing." I said back stammering back slightly.
"Where is your whore mother? Is she out?" I nodded. The man etched closer. A smirk appearing across his face.
In this moment I knew what was going to happen. The same thing that occured before, time and time again. His hands roughly pulled my hair back, yanking me to the cold wooden floor. I cried out as his hand came around my neck cutting off my oxygen. The knife in my hand clattered to floor. My last hope gone.
"You thought you could kill me? After all I have done for you, I got you a place in that dance school. But you just couldn't show some gratitude and treat you father nicely by repaying him. You lied to the police by saying I raped you." His free hand was now holding the knife I was trying to use. The point of it digging into my hip scratching the top layer of skin. His hand was tightening even more around my neck. I knew a bruise was forming just like the times before. His eyes looked down to my hip. "Look at what you made me do. I just had to cut your skin because you didn't listen. You never listen."
The pressure on my neck was becoming to much as I felt the edges of my blurry vision turn black. My hands fell helpless as I was losing power over my own body. If I became unconscious i wouldn't know what he did to me when I woke up again. That fear of not knowing pushed the darks spots in my vision to disappear momentarily. My new found energy allowed my knee to push up and hit him where it hurts the most. I was hoping it would throw him off and give me a minute to run and escape his grasp. The punch to my stomach told me it didn't work. The pain seared through me, the black spots appearing again and consuming me all together.
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