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Fat tears well in my eyes. I can't deny the voices in my head.
They are right. They know exactly what I am.
The darkness creeps in.
I don't stop it.
* * *
I squeeze my eyes shut. Holding my breath, I pretend he's not here. Not inside my bedroom. A tear streams down my cheek, landing on my pink pillow.
I thought if I snuck into my bedroom, pretended to be asleep, he wouldn't come. He wouldn't check.
Stupid.
I can't hide from him. Not when it's his job.
He found me. Ripped my nightshirt in half. Spanked my behind until I couldn't see. Then grabbed my ankles, flipped me over, pulled my legs apart and checked anyway.
His finger drives deeper inside of me. It hurts, like he’s trying to touch all of my organs and tell if they are clean from the bottom up. I learned about organs in school this week, learned that I have a stomach and a heart.
Another tear falls. If I don't breathe, maybe I'll pass out. Then the pain will stop. Or I'll die, my heart will stop. Then he'll stop. I clench my hands into fists at my sides so tight my nails cut my palms. Still, I don't breathe.
He shoves another thick finger inside.
I cry out, air surging into my lungs. “Please, no.”
He slaps my face with his other hand. My head jerks to the side with the force. The sound echoes around the tiny room.
“Please, Daddy.” More tears fall.
He rips his fingers out of me, then grabs my girl parts so hard I cry out, my head and back jerking off the bed.
“Whose dis?”
I sob. Maybe if I'm a good girl, if I tell him what he wants, he'll leave. “Y-yours.”
He let's go. I breathe a sigh of relief, my body relaxing. Then he slaps me right between my legs. I scream, my eyes jerking open even as they cloud with tears.
Like being stabbed with a molten, metal rod, pain ricochets through my entire body. I try to draw air into my lungs, but they seize up, nothing working as the pain takes its toll.
“You one good girl?”
I glance up at his eyes. Anger burns in them as he glares at me with his brow furrowed. His shirt hangs open. His hairy chest heaves, like a bear posed to attack.
“Y-yes.” I glance down only to notice his shorts twitch. A thick bulge pokes out, like a sideways mountain. I swallow, my throat burning.
He smiles. “Das right.” He reaches for his pants, stroking the strange bulge over the cloth. “I tink I need to remind you dat you my good girl. You no can hide from me. You always be mine.”
The bed dips down beside me as I clench my eyes shut. If I don’t see anything, it’s not real. I can push it away.
Chapter Five
I stare in the mirror. It must be Friday. The days have all mixed together, a chaotic blend of white-and-black nightmares. Yet, Giovanni wouldn’t be here if it wasn't Friday.
Twisting from side to side, I admire his finished gown. The layered fabric sways with each small movement, like delicate flower petals fluttering in the breeze. It's beautiful, really it is.
But it doesn't belong on me.
