Let Me Down | John Murphy

Not The First Time

I would like to apologise to my readers for my absence. I have been trying to update as often as possible but sometimes I don't always have the opportunity to continue the story I love writing. I thank you for your patience and I hope you can forgive me :)

Chapter 15

"Get up!" Billie kicks me.

"I can't walk," I simply respond.

"Get up!" She kicks again.

"I. Can't. Walk. What part of that don't you get? If you hadn't stabbed me, maybe I'd be able to make this easier for you."

Guess I'm the smarter twin.

Billie rolls her eyes and sighs. "Pathetic."

"Let me stab in the leg, and then you can tell me who's the pathetic one here."

My sister's a real bitch.

"I've been almost crippled before and still managed to win a war," she explains, trying to win the competition of who is the better twin.

Why is everything a competition to her?

"So trust me, Quinnie, I'm nowhere near pathetic."

"If you call me that one more time, you will be more than a little crippled!"

Nobody calls me that, why can't she get that?

"It's just a nickname... Quinnie."

"Unless you want me to throw another blade at you, I suggest you shut the hell up."

She pauses before her eyes look down at her stomach.

What the hell is wrong with her?

I watch her take a minute to think over my threat before her eyes reach mine once again.

"I'm not afraid of your threats, Quinnie."

Just as I'm about to go off at her, the sound of rustling lingers in the air, and our eyes search for the cause of the disruption until three large men make their appearance. One with dark hair, one with light, and one with no hair at all. Each of them stood covered in tattoos, and wearing smirks as they looked a little too friendly at Billie and I.

"Well, well... look what we have here, boys," the bald one grins, taking a step closer to a clearly uncomfortable Billie. "Didn't think we'd see you again."

Whoever these men are... they're no friends of ours.

"And who's this?" the grey-haired one points to me. "A new plaything for me?"

Plaything?

I'm petrified right now. I'd rather be dead right now.

Why didn't I let Billie kill me?

"This is uh... my new hostage."

Hostage?

"Planning on taking her to see the commander."

She may have thought she was trying to help the situation, but sadly she was wrong.

"If she's in need of being punished, we can always help with that," the bald one smirks, crouching down to brush his hand across my cheek.

I immediately flinch in response.

"Now, now, pretty thing... no need to be afraid."

"Actually, I think the commander should decide on her punishment," Billie says whilst the dark haired one places his hand on her side.

"Boring," the dark haired one says.

"Looks like you've already started to punish her," the bald one runs his hand over my wound and I immediately smack it away.

"Don't touch me!" I practically scream, leading aggression and force to take over.

"I will do whatever I want with you, bitch!"

The bald one forces me to the ground before climbing on top of me. My hands are pinned by the grey haired one whilst the bald man begins to tear my clothing. I try kicking and screaming, but nothing helps. The bald one stops my screams by pressing his hand against my mouth, and in return, I bite him. Hard.

"Bitch!" he yells, holding his hand in pain before slapping me across the face.

"Screw you!" I scream, throwing kicks in his direction.

The next thing I know, I get a bite on my neck, which I know will leave a mark, from the grey haired one.

How did I get myself in this situation?

"Hurry up and fuck her, Clay!" the grey haired one yells. "I want my turn!"

Sick. Bastards.

"No one is fucking me!" I scream, trying to move away from their grip, yet each time failing.

"Don't worry, doll face," Clay grins. "I'll go easy on you... to start with."

Despite my continuous attempts to get away, I find myself losing more and more clothing until I find myself naked and vulnerable.

"This is gonna be fun," they both snigger.

When he places his body over mine, I feel nothing but pain. His force reminds me too much of an event that I hoped I'd forget, yet hadn't. An event I brushed off because I didn't want to be treated any different. An event... not even Rory knew about...

11 years ago... (age 7)

It was dark that night. Very dark.

Mother had decided I no longer needed my nightlight, and because I still wasn't used to it, I held the blanket over my face to avoid 'monsters' attacking me in my sleep.

I was a kid. No judgement required.

Anyways, everything was fine... up until when the door opened and I was no longer alone...

"Dad?" I questioned, peeking out from under the blanket to see my father standing in the middle of my room, barely able to remain still.

"Shh. It's alright," he told me, coming over to slowly rub my leg. "Just relax."

I was I could say that was the only time it happened. But unfortunately for me, he had visited my room many times after that.

Just as Clay's about to finish, Billie jabs her blade in his throat and shoves him off of me. Relief takes over, but I find myself unable to physically move.

"Are you okay?" my twin asks, offering me her hand.

I notice the tears in her clothing, and our matching expressions, telling me she, too, had endured the abuse.

"It's okay," she continues. "Just take my hand."

Accepting, she helps me move away from the bloody corpses before covering me with my slightly torn jacket and pants.

I feel too broken to care about my appearance right now.

"Nobody deserves to experience that," Billie says. "I'm sorry you had to."

If the abuse didn't happen, I would be freaked out by Billie's kindness. If I felt like normal, I would think she's tricking me. If I felt anything, I would at least feel the need to say something more than a few words.

Numbly, I shrug. "It wasn't the first time."

"Mine either."

What a lucky pair.