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I smirk at her. “All in the good time, Cupcake.”
“Why are you doing this?” she whispers.
“Because I loved you, Mommy,” I mock her. If there is only one thing I’m glad in this life it is to know this bitch isn’t my mother.
“Mike, please… stop. I’m sorry, okay? Stop,” she whispers again. Her voice is so hard to hear with all the screaming she did for whole five days.
Drawing some circles on her skin by the blade in my hand I smile at her. “I’ll stop… but not before I fuck you with this knife and then I’ll fuck you as your blood drips off your body, coating my cock… I’ll stop after that.”
I should torture her longer… I should torture her at least eighteen days –a day for every year I lived in this hell. But five days work, too. Five days for five whole years that they made me watch and participate in their sick games. Five whole years that they broke me beyond repair.
*****
Red.
All I can see is red.
Everywhere is covered by her blood –the room, the bed, her, and me.
I watch her in fascination as life leaves her body with the every drop of her blood.
I watch her almost hypnotized as she writhes under me to give her last breath.
I place a kiss on her open mouth as everything stills in the room.
“Rot in hell, Natalie. I promise we’ll see each other there again.”
*****
I heard the police sirens before they barge into the house, but I didn’t move a muscle.
I didn’t even bother putting my clothes back on.
The best part is watching the disgust and shock expressions on their faces. They are afraid of me. I don’t even hold the knife as they’re putting the guns in front of my face, but they are still afraid of me. Because they know what I can do, they see the monster in me as I sit in front of my last art piece.
I don’t fight as they put me inside of the police cruiser.
I don’t fight as they drag me to the police station.
And I don’t talk as they try to interrogate me.
After hours of their effort I finally say one thing:
“I want to call my father, Henry Harrison, the senator.”
March 2, 2014–Day 45: New life
“Mike!” I yelled out for him.
I woke up in
his room, alone, and the itchy feeling was slowly showing itself, making my body hot and cold at the same time just like the last five days. The need was getting weaker as my back got worse from the whipping.
“Mike!” I called out one more time, fisting my hands on my side, causing my nails to bit my skin.
“Angel?” he entered the room with a towel around his waist. He didn’t need me to explain what the problem was, he came to me, wrapping his arms around me, protecting me from my demons.
“Shh, you’re strong, babe. You don’t need this. All you need is me and I’m here, with you. You don’t need anything or anyone else,” he whispered in my ear, repeating the same words till they became the only thing on my mind.
