Good Girl

Chapter 3

I don't have the words to describe what it felt like. How having every barrier you've ever put up to protect yourself being shattered in an instant. To have some strip you of all your power and self-worth and absorb it themselves, with absolutely no regard for anything you might feel. What it feels like to not be able to feel, to have to feel his touch everywhere, places you've never wanted to be touched or even imagined his hands would go. To have to endure his sandpaper tongue scraping against your mouth and throat, and knowing but never accepting that there is literally nothing you can do to get him off. It's impossible to explain the way that I felt, having to be killed without pain, having to be stabbed without a blade, being drowned without water, having to be burned by the fire of passion that you never wanted to ignite. How to explain the sensation when your raw and bleeding and run down and feeling like you'll never leave this state of horrific hell. And how to explain that the worst is when he's finally done, but you can't even enjoy the relief of having survived, only have him grin down at you, because that sick bastard enjoyed your pain, your suffering, and to have to come to the realization that he's looking at your violated body with the utmost love and passion.

After he left, all I could even dream on focusing on was how to get over it. How to try and forget the most awful event of my life. And coming to terms with the fact that this probably wasn't the worst thing he could do to me. But how could anything get worse than this?!

It could have been 18 seconds after, or a 24 years after, there was no way of me knowing, but some time after he did it, the basement door opened again.

The creaking of the hinged froze my body in place, shut down all thoughts running through my head, and filled my stomach with a slimy pit of dread.

"Good morning!" His velvet voice full of eire undertones greeted. Although the shadow of the light prevented me from seeing his face, I knew he was grinning that horrible grin.

I only sniffled in response, wanting to get up, run away, but funding that my body was covered with a thick layer of lead.

"Your chatty today." He chuckled, making his way down the stairs. "A few days on your own did you some good."

A few days?! How the hell have I even survived down here, in this ice block basement, with absolutely no food or clothing or any kind or anything?!

"Although, your eyes still say this look of, what is it again, fear?" He noticed, switching on the light. Its my first good look at him, and his bruises seem to have healed up. He looks healthy, still muscular as ever, a giant muscle monster I'm forced to look up to. Against my isntics though, he's fully clothed, and not holding a bat or a belt or any type of weapon in his hands, but a spoon. And a can? What's going on?

"I really didn't mean to leave something so pretty for so long, But Bumi and I were having such a good time, you just slipped my mind." He shrugged. "Why don't you put on some panites or something? Surely you're not such a slut that your in a big hurry to fuck again?"

NonoNonoNonoNoNoNO NO! That absolutely not what I want! And if I had anything to wear or any means of getting it on I absolutely would, cant he realize that?! I don't want to talk, because talking didn't make him stop, but I obviously shake my head more viciously than I ever have. I need to stop him from doing it again, I just have to!

"Oh really?" He condesenly commented, making his eyes grow wide in such a fake way. "Despite that, you seem to have made yourself at home." He scoffed, glancing between my legs.

Instinctively, I flinch, but I hear the can and spoon clatter to ground, and his pounding footsteps go to the other wall of the basement. And somehow, my senses were so out of touch with reality that I'm just now realizing that I've wet myself. I mean it makes sense, but that doesn't make it any less humiliating.

"Don't worry, everyone down here does that." He consoled. or at least I think. It's hard to tell if he's trying to be consoling or condescending. My senses are still trying to wake up from the strongest drug ever, shock.

The thing though that really jolts me awake, or the first time since he did it, was when he tossed a bucket full of soapy, Ice-cold water all over my legs and everywhere in between.

"Isn't that better?" He reasoned, this time definitely condescending, drying me up with a paper towel. "After Bum I decided to just keep water down here for this occasion."

Not wanting to thank him for anything, since its his fault this all happened in the first place, yet strangely grateful for cleaning me, I just nod. Not - thankful nod, let's make that clear, but a you-kidnapped-me-and-did-it-to-me-yet-my-instinct-is-to-thank-you-for-cleaning-me-but-i-hate-everything-about-you-and-if-you-were-to-drop-dead-i-would-fortnight-dance-over-your-grave type of nod.

"Good girl, you can be reasonable." He smiled, and grabbed the can and spoon from where it lay on the ground. "Now, you must be hungry."

Hungry? Oh yea, Hunger! I had just assumed that the gnawing feeling inside of me was my body trying to distract me from the pain with other pain, but it was actually hunger! And of course, the second he mentioned it, my stomach EXPLODED, going against my brain's reasoning of not wanting anything from this demon and deciding to go rogue and loudly ask him for food.

Chucking at the orchestra my stomach was putting on, he patted it, bringing a grimace to my face. But half my brain decided to shut up the second it hears the POP of the can seal.

Normally, whatever the hell he brought down in the can would have made me want to puke, but unfortunately, food is food, and I desperately need it to live. And as much as I hate accepting help from him, I know that I want to, no make that NEED TO survive this. I NEED to see his face in a mug shot, I NEED to see him in handcuffs, I NEED to see his face when the judge sentences him to life in prison for doing all this to me, and for whatever else he's done.

That need growls louder than my stomach, so I docility accept the spoonful of what I think is porridge. Yea its gross, but I need it to live. And right now, Living is what I need to do to win. And I HAVE to win against him.

He may have taken away my freedom, my comfort, and my virginity, but I won't let him take my life. I just can't.