I wake up in the same place, exactly the same position.
Everything comes back.
I hear birds singing as the morning light comes through the bedroom window and warms by back.
The birds sing so sweetly, if not for the pain I am in I would have listened to it and relaxed.
I can finally move my legs. I shift them and feel a crusty, sticky substance. I look down.
Dried blood all down my legs. Blood soaked into the bed.
I lowly shriek in horror as the tears come back. I try to kick my weak legs to get away from the blood-stained patch of bedding.
Damian moves. He kisses my head before looking down.
“Shit!” He says quickly and gets up.
He runs into the bathroom and I hear water running. I just look down between my legs in shock.
There’s more than last night.
More blood, so much more.
I didn’t even realise he came back until he scoops me up off the bed and into the bathroom.
The movement of him carrying me in his arms strains my stomach. Pain spreads through me and I whine from it.
He sets me down on the counter, I dare not look in the mirror behind me.
I wince at the soreness of my lower half as he sat me down. I still cradle my wrist in my ‘okay’ hand and I hunch over to try to ease the pain in my abdomen.
He searches in the cupboard bellow me and pulls out baby wipes and antiseptic wipes.
He stands up and looks at me. I can feel his eyes on me. He looks over my body, assessing his work.
“I did go a bit hard on you, didn’t I?”
“Lean back against the wall. I need to clean you up, then you can have a bath. It’ll help with the soreness.”
He places a hand softly on my shoulder and slowly pushes me against the wall. I grunt softly as my body moves.
Once against the wall I try to sort out my breathing that had gone uneven as I moved. I let out a sharp yelp as he takes my left wrist in his hand, moving both of my arms away from my chest.
He looks at my left wrist, he knows it’s broken too.
He looks back to my chest and smiles when he sees his mark.
“This is going to scar beautifully.” He comments looking at the vile carving “Hold still, this will sting” he then proceeds to clean it with antiseptic wipes.
In truth. I didn’t feel it, the pain in my abdomen overrules it. Pulsating, bruising, scraping, stabbing, tearing, pain that sends shockwaves through me constantly. If I move the pain increases beyond bearable.
“Perfect” he remarks still looking at it. He then proceeds to clean my whole torso with baby wipes and even my face from the dried tears and snot.
He looks down at my legs “you shouldn’t have said that babydoll" he says placing a hand on one of my knees, looking down “you shouldn’t have ever though it would have been a good idea to of lied to me about such a thing. Especially after trying to run, it was stupid of you.”
I don’t respond.
The words go straight though me.
He parts my legs and begins cleaning my thighs. Making his way upwards I see something in his eyes. Regret maybe?
Well too fucking late.
Damage is done.
“I really did go too rough with you, didn’t I? And for your first time too” he sighs “I never wanted it to be like that. But you angered me and lied to me. You should have known better than to say something like that.”
He finishes cleaning me and begins clearing away. “It looks like you bled through the night. You’re fine now.”
I hug my left wrist again as he picks me up and carry’s me to a filled bath. He gently lowers me in the tub. I cry out when I strain my stomach by suddenly moving.
“I know, I know. Shhhhh. You’ll feel better soon” he says as he removes his arms from me.
The water is hot. It burns but I like it. Burn away his touch. It’s comforting.
He brushes the hair from my face and places a lingering kiss on my head.
“I’ll give you a minute alone and get you some breakfast.”
I feel nothing.
I allow myself to sink into the bath water. Only my face lies above the water line.
My ears submerged. I hear my heartbeat as itecho’s in the water.
Slow and steady.
I focus on my heart and numb myself of the wretched pain that was consuming me.
I think about everything again.
Why am I so weak?
What happened to me?
I use to fight mum on everything, and win.
I use to backchat everyone.
I smiled all the time.
I had good grades, great grades.
I had the future all sorted out.
I had a close little, crazy friend group.
I was stubborn.
I was strong.
I’m just so tired of being weak.
I need to except that... No one’s coming to save me.
I’m on my own with a monster.
I’m a slut.
I’m dead inside.
No one’s coming.
I have no hope.
I have nothing.
I’m on my own.
I’m tired of fighting for nothing.
I give up.
I’ve had enough.
I just want it to end
I want it all to end.
I want this pain to go away.
Not just the physical but my head. The mental strain.
I want it gone.
I want to be with Oliver.
I’m ripped out of the water and forced to sit up by someone holding my shoulders.
"Fucks sake Casey! You gave me a heart attack. I thought you drowned! Why the hell were you lying so lifeless like that?”
I don’t even look at him. Too focused on the pain he’s caused yet again.
With my only moveable hand I clutch my stomach in the hopes it makes the pain go away.
He sighs “silly, silly girl” he places a tray on the sides of the bath. On it is toast and eggs with a large plastic cup of water.
I notice a small paper saucer with a handful of pills on it.
“Eat. Drink. You need it doll” he says softly. I don’t take my eyes off the tables. He notices and points to each pill “painkiller. Ibuprofen. Morning after pill. Birth control. Iron capsule because you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
I still don’t react. I’m not surprised. I’m relieved to say the least. At least I don’t have to carry his vile offspring.
“I know it’s too early to have children, you’re still too young. I understand that. I want to enjoy my time with you before we have little children running around.” He says as he runs his fingers through my wet hair.
I’d kill it if it ever happens. I will never willingly have his spawn.
He kisses my head “I’ll leave you a little longer.” He walks away.
I eye the food. It makes me feel sick.
I grab all the pills and swallow them dry. I down the cup of water after, nearly dropping it in the process because of my frail wrist.
I know what the birth control pill means. I’m not stupid. It means he’s planning on raping me again.
Over my dead body.
He comes back after a while and does my hair. He insists that I eat but I don’t. Surprisingly he doesn’t threaten me about it.
He helps me out the bath and dries me. Each movement sending ripples of pain through me.
He lies me on the newly stripped-down mattress. Blood stains on it, one massive one where he carved my chest and raped me, other little ones around it then, another big one where I slept.
He dresses me in a tank top and shorts with plain underwear. He gently throws the fluffy blanket on top of me.
Then he walks away.
I just lie here staring at the ceiling. The pain is still coursing through my body, I forcefully make myself turn numb.
Closing my eyes, I focus on my heart beat and listen to it and only it.
Forgetting the pain that surrounds me I open my eyes and focus on the textured ceiling above. I make words, shapes and objects out of it as I forget the world around me.
Slowly but thankfully, the pain fades away. I don’t know if it’s the painkillers finally kicking in or the focus I have on my heartbeat and the ceiling above, but it all fades away.
My tears that are halfway down my face stop dead in their tracks then, cease to exist.
The once bright morning sun from the window, blinding my eyes, no longer affects me.
I simply listen to my breathing, slow and weak breaths and my heart, dangerously slow.
I feel nothing know.
Nothing at all.
This is my life now. But not for long.
I look to the end of the room opposite me and sit up slowly. Never releasing my gaze on the pretty glass vase that holds the daffodils and white bluebells I picked days ago.
They’re still going strong. Unlike me.
The tall glass jar is my way out. It is my only saviour and I welcome it and all its glory.
Ripping away another show of his misguided and unwanted affection away, the blanket falls to the floor. The false sense of security it carries falls with it.
I stand up slowly, dragging my bruised, weak, beaten up legs across the floor. Halfway to it my legs give out so I crawl the rest of the way.
I get to the chester-draws and force myself to stand, I lean my hands on it. I didn’t think it was possible to be this weak, I didn’t think it was possible to be even weaker than before.
But yet, I am.
Picking up the vessel with difficulty as the glass weighs more than my weak wrist can handle, I remove the strong-willed flowers and set them aside gently.
Tipping the water on the floor I stare at the glass as it reflects the sunlight creating rainbows of light that skater on the walls.
The single most beautiful thing I’ve seen during my time here.
I hold the vase with my only semi-usable hand then remove it abruptly, watching the jar in slow motion fall to the hardwood floor, shattering into billions of pieces.
I kneel down, ignoring the twinge of pain the spikes through me, I look at the fragments. I dip my hand into the dust like glass, then push down as hard as I can and drag my hand along the glass coated floor, leaving a trail of red behind it.
I lift my hand and watch the blood ooze out of unseeable cuts that plaster now my bloody hand.
Looking back at the floor I see what I’ve been looking for. My way out.
A large piece of glass sits silently a few feet away from me.
I crawl on my hands and knees on the glass covered floor, hearing every crunch under me and feeling every slice of my flesh, I don’t pay it any heed and block it out like all my other pain.
I no longer care.
I have to do this.
It is the only way.
Making my way over to the large shard I pick it up with a shaky throbbing hand, dripping with blood. Soon the piece is covered with red and tears of joy escape from my eyes as I kiss the deadly sharp blade.
A sigh of relief comes through me as I look upon the end. The end of everything. No more will I be in pain. No more will I be here. No more will I look in the mirror wandering who’s looking back. No more will I be with him.
This is it, my one and only way out.
I’m ready for it.
Damian Kyle’s Pov
Hearing a clutter in the distance coming from mine and Casey’s room I call out to her.
She hasn’t spoken since last night.
She will, she will get used to it. She’ll have to. It’s good we got it over with now.
Hearing nothing but silence, worry consumes me.
I head to our room.
I open the door to see a vase broken into pieces in the ground and blood. A trail of blood and droplets leading to the bathroom.
“CASEY?” I follow the trail.
I know last night was hard on her and I may have gone over the top but I swear if she’s done something stupid, I’ll make it ten times worse.
She better not have cut herself on purpose.
I storm into the bathroom. I see her sat on the side of the sink with her arm bleeding and blood running down the drain.
“No!” I run to her and hold her wound to stop the bleeding. Her eyes are shut and she looks lifeless.
Suddenly her other hand comes out of nowhere and she slash’s a glass fragment at me.
The blade cuts along my arm as I hold it up to defend myself.
She would have got my neck if I hadn’t.
She goes to try again but I catch her arm with my free hand. I hit the back of her hand on the side making her drop the glass.
“YOU STUPID GIRL!” I slap her.
She just tried to kill me.
It was a good try.
I’m almost impressed...
Suddenly we both stop what we’re doing and listen.
Casey’s breathing increases and she smiles widely.
My blood boils in anger.
“FUCK!” I scream and grab her by her arms, pulling her back against me and walking out the house with her as we look up and around.