The final destination.

Chapter 3

Back to Day 1: April 20th

Hayden's POV

Waking up in my wasteland of a room was never a fun experience.

Aching bones, forming bruises, and that smell of beer that lingered all around my room, it was all still there.

Sometimes I hoped for a way out. An escape to all of the hardships in my life. I believe that everyone deserves just a bit of happiness, and from there on you need to make the rest.

But some people are not lucky enough to have that starting point. And no matter how hard they try. That foundation of happiness will never be there.

I believe that I am that unlucky person. And that kills me inside. Too this day I still ask why me. Why was I stuck with horrible parents, and a horrible life.

But I can't help that. So until the day I graduate I will sit here. I will let them beat me until I pass out. I will allow my pig of a father to violate me over and over. And I will continue to cry myself to sleep.

Morning. Something I've always hated. But I will get up and go through my day.

Getting ready for school is tough in this house, if I'm too loud I will wake them up. That itself gains me a full on wrestling match.

Slowly and carefully I turn on the shower and step in. Washing all of the dirt, and dryed blood off myself.

Once I'm done I jump out and throw on leggings, a sweater, and some high boots.

And then I head off.

Slowly opening the door and hoping it doesn't creek to loudly, until I feel a presence behind me.

"Hello sweety, I think you should come with me." A strange manly voice whispers in my ear.

Without time to react he grabs me and presses a cloth tightly to my face.

Darkness.

"Hel..oo..o" my voice cracks out.

I said this before even opening my eyes.

Building up the courage to open my eyes I finally do it.

Grey concrete walls are all I see.

Fallowed my a chair in the very corner of the room.

It kinda looks like a basement.

Which makes it all of the more creepy.

Not to mention the noises.

Scurrying, squeezing, and pounding.

I suspect the pounding is coming from upstairs. Every pound is a step closer to the door that connect the basement to the house.

Click.

Pound pound pound pound

I hear these noises as a man unlocks and walks down the steps.

Each step he takes my heart rate increases, and my desire to die gets stronger.

Someone in my situation would understand.

I can feel the power and confidence radiating off if his body.

He was built like Thor.

Muscular arms and a strong upper torso.

Once he was off the stairs he simply stood there staring at me. Analyzing me. It was like he could see into my soul. He understood that I was afraid. And that made him feel eveh more powerful.

"Sexy." He said mocking me

My eyes bulges out of my head trying to understand what he ment by that single word, and what he was going to to because of that word.

"Here's the rules girl.

Number one: Do not even for one second think you have control, because you don't.

Number two: take your beatings do not fight.

Number three: do not disrespect me. I am in charge and I will use you in what ever way I want. You are mine.

Got it?"

I nodded my head in utter fear.

"Good. Now strip."

I looked upon this man imaging how much damage he would inflict upon me. So I did as I was told. I removed every piece of cloth on my body.

And as he got closer to me tears streamed down my face.

"Nice" he whispered as he felt me up.

He yanked my legs closer to him and layed me flat on my back.

And he forced himself in me.

I screamed. As though my life depended on it.

It was an agonizing pain. Having sex, with a man so grotesque. I was disgusted. And with that I let myself drift into unconsciousness. I knew that this was going to be more commen now.

Beautiful. Blackness overtook my vision. And no other sense worked properly. I was in my own world.

For now I'm ok with that. As long as I'm not in reality.