slides down my finger, dripping onto the back of my knuckles.
A laugh sounds in my ears as I’m flipped over onto my back. The ceiling light is too bright for my eyes. I slide them shut, trying to think, but it’s hard to wade out of the fog that’s clinging to my thoughts. I grit my teeth as fat, beefy fingers find the collar of my shirt and rip it straight down the middle. My arm burns from where the needle came out of my skin.
My skin … it feels like it’s melting. It’s too hot. It’s too much. Everything is too much. I open my mouth as fire races along my nerve endings, burning me from the inside out. What the fuck is happening to me?
My head snaps to the side and I only realize in a belated moment of clarity that I’ve been struck. My eyes open again and I look up into the old, pockmarked face of Roger. “Stop yelling, bitch,” he snarls. “You’ll like it if you just … open … yer … damn … legs.”
I was yelling? I think. Why hadn’t I heard it? He struggles, breathing hard as he pries my thighs apart. Bile rushes up my throat. Jesus fuck. He’s going to rape me.
Fight, I snap at myself. Fight, you dumb bitch. I can’t let this happen. I won’t!
“You’re just like your fucking mother,” Roger says, licking his lips as he reaches for the waist of my pants, peeling them down. I urge my arms to move. To stop being so fucking useless, but it’s as if every muscle I’ve ever possessed has been stripped away. I have no strength in my limbs and my body isn’t listening to my mind as it screams for everything to just fucking stop! “There we go, darlin’.” Roger’s voice makes my stomach curdle as if there’s spoiled milk inside me. He licks his dirty fingers and pushes them down, between my legs.
This is what hell is. It isn’t a little red man dancing amidst the flames. It isn’t an ice cold monster struggling to free himself from his own personal prison as he freezes everyone around him. Hell is human. It is this man. This place. Right here. Right now. And after all the fighting and rage and cold, hard struggles I’ve gone through, I’ve finally fallen victim.
I gasp out, hating the pain of knowing he’s pushing his fingers inside me. I can’t feel it, but I know they’re there. Stretching me on the inside to prepare for him. There’s vomit in my throat, stopping me from saying a damn word. Silence echoes in my mind and all around.
I don’t want this. This isn’t me. This isn’t happening. Why is this happening?
My head turns to the side as the nausea overwhelms me and yellow acid purges from my stomach, coming up my throat—burning my esophagus, leaking out of the corner of my mouth. My arm flops up, weakly. I push against Roger’s face, shoving him back in an attempt to fight. It takes everything I have, every decibel of will, every fucking ounce of rage in me, to accomplish even that much.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” My ears ring when he scowls at me, pulling his hand back and balling it into a fist before letting it fly. It hits my jaw and my head goes flying back. “I’ve been waiting years to do this, you little cunt, and nothing’s going to stop me from finally getting what I deserve.”
Spots dance in front of my vision, shades of black and white and reds and blues. I can’t … my head weighs a hundred pounds. It’s a struggle to lift it. My eyes connect with the dirty popcorn ceiling and the water stains around the light fixture. In the edge of my vision, I can see Roger’s head bobbing. My legs are shoved wider, wide enough that I can finally feel the pangs of it as feeling begins to slowly make its way back into my limbs.
Too late, though. It’s too late.
The blunt head of his dick rubs against my folds.
Kill him, I think. I’m going to fucking kill him. Rip his intestines out and string him up. I’m going to watch him fucking suffer. God doesn’t exist, not in this place, but if He did, then He should know—He did this. He created this monster on top of me and I’m going to burn everything He made down.
I clench my teeth as Roger pushes into me and