The cold air coming in through the window has chilled my skin up to the point where my naked body was screaming from the cold. Still I did not stand up to close the window, and neither did I dare lift the covers over my body. It was like I was aching everywhere. Even putting the duvet over my body seemed to hurt me everywhere it touched my bare skin. The cold was better. At least it made me feel numb in certain places where the pain was just too overwhelming. How I was even going to make it back to my own bed and away from James’ snoring body I did not even know. I didn’t think I could stand on my own anymore. Not with this pain.
The last few hours were worse than anything I had ever experienced in my life. It wasn’t just James wanting to satisfy himself anymore. He had wanted to hurt me. Badly. To the point where I would never run away again with fear of something this bad happening to me again. And it had worked. There was no way that I would ever run away again. Looking back on everything James had done to me up to this point I can now understand that he had truly been loving. What I had seen tonight… What I had experienced… Well it made the past seem not that bad anymore. He could have done the stuff he had done to me tonight a hundred times over, but he didn’t. He made sure it never went this far. But tonight had been different. He hadn’t once told me he loved me. He didn’t go on about satisfying me either, which was something he had been obsessed about ever since the first time, the delusion that I was enjoying what he was doing to me. This time he called me dirty names the entire time. He had slapped me and once even kicked me. He had used me until I could not take it anymore, and for the first time I could not pass out from the pain. The burning and the throbbing kept me awake. My screams did not make him go faster or make him want to end it quicker like it usually did. It only made him go slower, wanting to make my pain last as long as was possible.
Now I wasn’t crying anymore. The tears had dried hours ago on my face. It did not help crying any longer. There was no way I would be able to get out of here. In a few hours my mom would be here, and if I told her what had happened he would do something terrible to Keith. His own son. My little brother. I always knew he was a monster, but I had been understating it even in my mind. I had no idea how sick he really was. He was beyond any evil that could possibly walk on earth. The worst part of it all was that he didn’t even look like a monster. He was handsome and polite. To the outside world he was the perfect father. Nobody would ever know, and the one person that did know would never tell because he didn’t believe it either. And that was hurting even more than what my ass and legs was hurting. The fact that Chris would never believe me. That he would forever think that I just lied about everything and that I wanted everything that had been done to me. He was probably thinking that I was just another slut that came on to him when I found out that he was in love with me, that I wanted my bread buttered on both sides.

Even as James snored next to me, knowing that there was no way that I would wake him up, I still tried to get of the bed as quietly as I could. I knew I could not take any more of his abuse in one night and there was no way of knowing what he would be thinking if he woke up. If he wanted more he might as well just hurt me so much that I might actually die from the pain.
Getting up was the worst pain I had ever had in my life. I could feel the throbbing while I was laying down but it was nothing compared to how it felt when I had finally lifted myself from the bed and grabbed onto the wall to keep myself upright. It felt like my insides were falling out. I had no idea where my clothing was and I didn’t care. What I knew I needed was a shower. I needed to get James off my body, although I knew that wasn’t even a possibility anymore. Even as I scrubbed myself clean he would already be planning on what he could do to me next, getting himself all over me again. He was layered so deep into my skin at this point that I was sure there was no way to rid my mind and body from him anymore.
“Urgh…” I moaned as I took the first step toward the door. I grabbed onto my stomach where I felt the pain the most and decided that there was no way I could take a normal step as long as I was in this much pain.
Slowly, inching step by step I made it to the door in what seemed like at least fifteen minutes. There I didn’t care about walking as softly as I could anymore. I slowly lowered my body to the ground until I could feel the dirty carpet underneath my naked body, hugging me and making the pain seem a little more bearable. It didn’t feel like my insides were falling out anymore at least.
“Bastard,” I whispered as I swallowed back some tears that were burning behind my eyes as the pain threatened to take total control over me.
Biting on my teeth and promising myself that I would not scream again, never again because of him I dug my toes into the carpet. Then, lifting the top of my body only an inch from the ground I pushed myself forward just until the pain got too much. I collapsed again, shutting my eyes as tight as I could, until I could actually see stars while I held up my breath. When the pain subsided a little bit I did the same again. Very slowly I inched forward and then rested. The same thing over and over until my room was right in front of me. It didn’t feel like my room anymore. It felt like a prison. One that when I entered I would never be able to leave again. I would forever be trapped in there, ready to be the slave that James wanted me to be for the rest of my life. Maybe I could talk him into me not going to school anymore. There was no need for it in any case. If he wanted me as his whore he could at least pay me to stay home and be here for his convenience.

Pushing that thought out of my mind I gritted on my teeth and made the last few feet toward my bed. There I needed to make a decision. Get onto the bed or crawl underneath. Weighing up the options of getting up and feeling like my intestines would fall out or being on an uncomfortable floor made my decision for me. I only had to endure a little bit of pain to grab my pillow and then crawling in underneath the bed, only to draw the bedding down a little bit so that James would not see where I was hiding. With just a little bit of luck, if he woke up throughout the night and felt like seconds he would think that I ran away from home, never to come back again. Although that seemed unlikely. He knew what he was doing with me earlier tonight. If he had any bit of logical thinking left in his brain he would know that there was no way I would be able to get very far in my current condition.
“I hate him,” I whispered into the darkness, behind my makeshift curtains that kept me hidden from view. Somehow it did not make me feel any better knowing that I hated him. It did however make me nauseous, something that I had to swallow down as quickly as it started to come up. There was no way I would be able to make it to the bathroom, and there was no way that I was sleeping in puke either. I had been through enough for one night. Sleeping next to a mess that I made would just be too much for now.
I wanted to badly to turn around and lay on my back, but I couldn’t. I tried to turn around but the pain searing through my body pushed me back on my stomach once more.
“How much more?” I asked nobody in particular.

Was this why people prayed? Because they just needed someone to hear their pain? Someone who might come and rescue you out of what seemed worse than hell? Because they just didn’t want to be alone when they knew that in this world they only had themselves to count on?
“I want to die,” I said into the darkness, louder this time. Maybe someone would hear me and grant my wish. Maybe when I fall asleep it would be different this time. Maybe I would not wake up and just keep on sleeping forever.
If I had the strength to walk down to the kitchen I would. I would take a knife and slit my throat. There was no way that it could hurt more than what I was hurting already. The pain I was in could not be compared to a throat being slit and blood gushing out. It would be over in minutes. It might feel like a lifetime, but it would be minutes in reality. I have always held on to that. It was only a few minutes. That’s what I told myself earlier as James had to push me down on the bed once more after I screamed and tried to get away. As he tied my arm the got loose to the bedpost again I had seen his watch. He had only been doing what he was doing to me for twelve minutes. It had felt like twelve hours, but it was only minutes. He had to be done soon. He had too. He had untied me after 54 minutes. 54 minutes in which I was screaming and crying. Minutes in which I had begged and apologized and tried my best to get away. Nobody heard me. Not a neighbor, or Chris, or my mother, or a random stranger walking past the house. Nobody heard me, and if they did they just looked the other way, decided not to listen to what was going on behind drawn curtains and went on with their wonderful lives while I was suffering a fate worse than death.
They always say that things get better. It doesn’t. It gets worse. And when it gets worse they tell you it needs to get worse before it gets better. That’s also not true. It gets worse and then you see a ray of hope. That ray of hope doesn’t stay for very long before it gets even worse than the last time. Then again just a little bit of hope. And somewhere, after years and years of having faith that things will get better, you just can’t summon that faith anymore. Things only get better in one way. When you slit your throat, or swallow a wad of pills, or jump of a bridge. Then things get better, because there is nothing that can happen worse anymore. You have ended it so that it could never escalate to anything ever again. Not better, and never again worse. Then you are left with what had happened and what will come after. And there is nothing that could come that could possibly be worse than what I had endured already.