Already Dead

Prologue

SNAP

There goes another one of my unbroken ribs.

Down to three left untouched.

I didn't flinch or bend over in pain, I felt the bone break but I couldn't feel the pain.

It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last time he does this to me.

He brought his fist up again and took another swing to my gut.

I fell to the hard, cold wooden floor finding it hard to breathe, I wished he would have just ended it at that point.

I no longer felt his hits; I was numb with pain.

I looked up into his eyes and all I could see was evil... death... and... hate.

He hated me.

He couldn't stand to look at me.

"What have I told you about looking at me Sam?!"

And again. I heard this every night.

The shouts of the night before, and the night before that, he repeated himself over and over again.

"Don't look at me Sam."

"If you look at me, you'll pay the price."

I have yet to find out what the price is, even now as I am telling you.

Though thinking about it, I'm probably best not knowing.

I couldn't look at him.

He wouldn't allow it, so I - as I normally do - looked away from him so I didn't have to watch him as he hurt me more and as soon as I done that I felt it, it was happening again.

He threw me down laying on my front and he shoved himself inside me.

His hard cock was pounding into me, not that I felt that either.

This was the worst part of the beatings.

Me in pain would turn him on, so much it would cause him to rape me...

It took me a while to admit this, he raped me over and over again.

Every night.

Without fail.

His nails and teeth were sharp, I was so sure he sharpened them to hurt me more for when he scratched my back, bit my neck or dug his nails into my sides, I was always left with bruises, nail marks, bleeding everywhere he could get to.

He moaned, he moaned louder than usual that night, moaning my name, I keep asking myself why.

Even, now.

Why my name?

Why not his wife's like usual?

He pounded harder into me, thankfully after only ten minutes - that was very short for him, he usually kept going for between thirty minutes and an hour - he came hard into my body and pulled out straight away, almost as if he was ashamed of himself, not that he was.

He was proud, proud to put me through this, proud that he is getting revenge on the one who killed his wife, or at least that's what he said.

He said that every night.

"It's you're fault Sam."

"You killed her."

"I will get my revenge on you for killing my wife."

"It's you're fault she's dead."

One of them would be said every night, maybe even them all depending on how he felt.

I believed I deserved it

So I did what anyone else in that situation would.

Lay down and took it, of course not telling a soul about it.

"Clean yourself up.

That's always the last thing he said to me before he pulled up his boxers and jeans as he left the room.

I felt the blood rushing from my ass, along with his sperm and that was it.

Nothing else.

I couldn't feel any emotion or any pain, just the blood and sperm leave my person.

After the ordeal, just like every night, I just lay in bed with a thin, dirty, blood stained sheet over me staring up at the mould black ceiling , or that's what I thought I was looking at, everything in that room seemed the same.

Dirty, bloody, mouldy and worst of all cold.

I felt trapped like I couldn't get out.

The only thing that got me through the nights was the thought of getting to school, fresh air, the cool breeze and watching all the loving families drop their children off at school; I wish I had a family but they all left me alone, alone with him how could someone do that to a kid?

I was only four when they all abandoned me.

I smiled to myself at the thought of the old days when me, my mom Mary, my dad John and brother, Dean would take vacations to the families beach house, and spend all summer there, those were the better days, the hot sun burning down, the breeze of the cold wind blowing through my hair, no worries and no stress; just a happy normal family.

What happened your asking?

What happened to me?

How did I get there?

I'm just about to tell you.

My name is Sam Winchester and this is my story.