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Payton
A raindrop rollsdown the back of my hand, beading on my fingertip before falling to the carpet.
“Such a stupid girl.”
“I’m not stupid!” The shout is out of me before I realize what I’ve done.
A large, weathered hand shoots out, gripping my throat. Cutting off my air.
Stop.
I think the word, but I can’t say it.
I can’t speak.
My fingers claw at the hand, nails scratching at flesh, catching on that damn gold pinky ring he wears. But it’s useless, I’m not strong enough to break his hold on me.
“Not stupid, huh?” the man sneers.
Darkness starts to spot my vision, my eyes rolling wildly, looking for help. But the only other person here is my mother. And even the small unbroken parts of me aren’t naive enough to think she’ll step in.
The hand tightens. His sneered words blurring in my mind as my brain begs for oxygen.
Tears streak from my eyes.
Maybe I am stupid.
Worthless like he always says.
Finally, weakness softens my limbs, and my knees give out.
His fingers release my neck as I collapse to the floor.
“Fat and stupid.” He wipes his hand on his jeans like he’s trying to wipe away the disgust of touching me.
My impact with the thin carpet knocked the last breath out of me, so I can’t reply. Not that I would. I learned my lesson.
Fighting for breath, I watch as he turns his back and walks away, like nothing happened.
My body jolts as I gasp for air.
“Sweet Girl.”
The murmur doesn’t sound like the voice that haunts my nightmares. But I can still hear it. I can still feel his hand on me, fingers around my neck.
Blinking back the dream, my hands blindly reach up to push him away even though I know he’s not here. It’s just a memory. No one is touching—
My fingers collide with warm flesh.
Panic flares back to life and I try to scramble away, but I can’t. I’m in the corner of the couch.
My couch.
I’m an adult. It’s not him.
My brain adjusts to the sight in front of me. To the man from the balcony.
Oh my god, did I seriously fall asleep with this stranger in my home?!
