ch 9: Broken

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*Chapter 9: Broken*

After he crawled out of the tent, I lay alone. The sun was up, but it was still early and the thick trees provided heavy shade, keeping it cool inside. I lay on the dirty blankets.

I felt disgusting. I felt sick. I felt like someone had crushed my very soul.

I thought about my family and what they were doing. 

Did they realize that I was gone yet? Were they looking for me? Was there a chance I might be found? I thought about my sister, Emma, and what she must be feeling. 

I thought about my brothers. I thought about my mom and dad. Then a terrible idea seeped into my soul: If they knew what the man had done to me, would they still want me?

The question cut me to the core.

Would they still love me? Would they want me? Or would they think, “We don’t want her anymore”?

I know that sounds crazy, but that’s exactly how I felt.

I didn’t feel like a whole person anymore. I just felt filthy and disgusting. I felt like, Who could ever want me back? Who could ever want to talk to me? Who would ever be my friend?

But I now understand that what I felt is not uncommon among victims of rape or abuse. Rape is such a violation; the feeling of worthlessness is almost universal. In addition, some women feel like they might have asked for it or deserved it in some way. 

They think it might have been their fault because of a low-cut shirt, or maybe they were flirting, or somehow they had communicated that they wanted it and then they didn’t want it anymore. There are lots of reasons why they might feel responsible.

But I was not confused. I knew what had just happened to me wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t run away with this stranger. 

None of this was my choosing.

But I still felt completely broken.

Imagine you have a beautiful crystal vase. Then imagine that you accidently knock it off the table and it shatters into lots of pieces on the floor. We all understand it isn’t the vase’s fault that it was pushed off the table and shattered. But still, it is damaged and worthless. You don’t want it anymore. So you sweep it up and throw away the pieces.

That is how I felt.

It wasn’t my fault. But I was still broken. I  couldn't imagine who would want me anymore.

So even though I knew that this young man could kill me at any time, I had already reached a point where I no longer cared.

I thought about other people I’d seen on the news, people who’d been kidnapped and then their bodies had been found. 

I realised that they were the lucky ones. 

They no longer had to suffer.

I decided to just close my eyes and curl up into a tight ball of despair. I pushed toward the corner of the tent and cried myself to sleep.

The last thing I remember thinking before I drifted off was, tonight I’m going to run.

I slept lightly for an hour or so, never really slipping away, always aware in the back of my mind where I was and the situation I was in. There was no rest in my brief sleep, no comfort, no solace. 

The ground was extremely hard, I could feel the rocks under me through the thin layering of the tent. 

I felt discussing among the dirty blankets, sheets, and pillows. 

I woke up feeling something being wrapped around my ankle. I jolted awake. The sun was high and it was getting hot inside the tent. Harry was kneeling over me, wrapping a steel cable around my ankle. The cable was stretched to near its limit. I followed it with my eyes. It extended out the tent door and disappeared.

I turned back to the man as he jerked the cable tight around my ankle. “What are you doing!” I cried in utter shock.

“Louis, I just want to take away any temptations,” he replied sarcastically.

I felt the cable being cinched against my skin. I felt its tautness. I felt its strength.

He crawled out of the tent, leaving me alone again. I picked up and studied the cable. Steel wrapped inside a plastic cover. It seemed strong enough to hold a car. I adjusted my leg, relieving some of the pressure.

Earlier that morning, even as Harry had forced me out of my bed, then throughout the long hike up the mountain and the horrible nightmare in the tent, I always thought that he would kill me. 

I thought he would hurt or kill my family. That scared me even more. And I absolutely knew what he was capable of doing so.

“If you haven’t been in such a situation, if you haven’t felt the kind of stone-cold fear that cuts you to the core―and few people really have―it’s impossible to imagine what it does to your thinking, to your emotions, to the way your heart and brain begin to work.

I had always been afraid that he would kill me. But now I realized that wasn’t his plan. He wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to bring me up here and then to trap me with the steel cable if he were going to kill me. 

My nightmare was not ending. It was just getting started.

Then I had the most horrible thought of all.

What if this goes on forever?!

Is this to be the only life that I will ever know?

A.N//:

i havnt updated in a while but im going to update alot now bc its holidays and i have a hella lot of time te waste:)

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