In love with my kidnapper
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Contenido adultoContinúa37m
Última publicación vie, ene 25, 2013
My name is Zavanah. I was 15 when he kidnapped me. No one has found me, its been 3 years and I've lost hope. But its not like anyones looking for me, I'm just an orphan, my parents gave me up. When he kidnapped me, I got this strange feeling.... he made me feel, wanted and not afraid (sometimes- well most of the time). I was basically a slave, to the boy, that was rather attractive. The moment I woke up to his green eyes staring down at me, I didn't feel as scared. When he gets mad he takes his anger out on me, then immediately apoligizes. He is hard core, but has a soft side. When he's not with me or near me my heart cracks, cos he's probably with some other girl better than me, his slave. Do I have feelings for him? No I cant he's my kidnapper. Am I really falling in love with my kidnapper?
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Why did he kidnap me? This happened 3 months ago. Many times I have tried to escape the clutches of his rough hands. Many times I have cried for help. But I need to get stronger in order to escape from him. Now, three months later, I think about this, but now my feelings are different. I wanted to kill him, to make him suffer the way he made me suffer. "Do it, kill him!" Is what I'm thinking. "Kill him and it will be over. I will be able to escape." The mask that was hiding his identity looks at me as I hold the knife to his throat. The whole time I been wondering why I didn't just slit his throat. He told me to do it, to finish him but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I couldn't hate him for the times he whipped me or raped me. I just couldn't. I looked at him holding the knife to his throat with a shaky hand. No matter how hard I try I can't hate him. No matter how hard I try I can't get the knife to slice Reidson's throat. Dropping the knife on the floor I look at his face. I couldn't see his eyes because of the white mask. Now the same hands that used to be so rough became soft and warm. He still beats and rapes me but I figured out why I didn't hate him for making me suffer like this with these same hands that hurt me so cruelly are now touching my face gently. I held his hand to my chest as I look at his masked face. His hand is stained with blood. My blood. I look at his face, I have fallen into a cruel love.
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