Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except for Sandra who is a made-up McMahon child
Walk
down this hallway. No, turn back. Turn left. He's there. Turn right.
Walk fast. Hear his footsteps catching up to mine. Run. Run. Run.
Run! Turn around. Face
him. Tell him. Can't find the words, stuck in my throat. I feel them
climbing. I feel them turning into rage and fear and sadness and
despair and...and...I don't know what else. I don't want to say the
word. He smiles. I stop dead in my tracks. He shoves me up against
the wall. He puts his mouth to my ear.
"More."I
wake up in a cold clock reads 3:43 AM. Four more hours of
sleep that I won't be able to catch up on. Once again I'm trapped in
a different hotel room in a different city with the same dream. Only
this time I'm glad it was a dream. I'd much rather have my dreams
than my reality. I lay back down on my old pillow that goes with me
everywhere and try to fall back asleep. Five minutes go by. Then ten.
Then twenty. No use. I turn the lamp on and flip through the TV
channels. Nothing's on so I turn the TV off. I go to the bathroom and
look at my reflection. Mydark brown hair sticks to my sweaty face. I
pull the long strands into a ponytail and examine my neck. The
purpl-ish pink mark is nearly gone, but the large fingerprints around
my right upper arm are as clear as daylight. The brown and purple
reminder of why I messed up. I refused him again. Last time it
happened I ended up with a fat lip and a handprint on my cheek. This
time he wasn't so gentle. He got angry fast. His trademark fury is
definantly real, and I am the one who really faces it. But I'm just a
plaything to him, and when Plaything doesn't want to play she is
forced to play. It's become a ritual, I guess. For a couple of months
it's been going on and no one seems to notice that I don't socialize
that much anymore. My dad is always in meetings the minute we land,
my mom doesn't travel with us and my sister and her husband are
always in the meetings with my dad. My brother shows up sometimes,
but even he runs apart of the company and no one wants to take care
of the fifteen year old McMahon child. The one that hasn't been shown
in storylines yet. But oh no, apparently I have "Big Plans"
aheadof me. Eventually I'm going to be in a storyline. I just hope
it's not in one with the Legend Killer.
I am pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on the hotel door. Who is up and knocking on my door at 4 in the morning? I look through the peephole. "Sandra, open up." He commands. I do as he says. I don't need my father to pay for another broken hotel room door. He walks in with ease and closes the door behind him. "Sorry for showing up so early." He says and backs me up to the wall. "It's ok. I couldn't sleep anyway." I stare at the floor. He pulls down my shorts and undewear, then he pulls down his jeans. I close my eyes as he slams me into the wall over and over again. Once he's tired of standing, he moves us over to the bed. Suddenly he stops. "Why are your eyes closed?" He asks. "I...you know why." I say boldly. His hand tightens it's grip on my neck. "Open them. Watch me." He says. I do as I'm told. His head rests in the crook of my neck as he goes deeper inside me.
"You'll thank me sooner or later for giving you such pleasure." He says when he's done. "Pleasure?" I scoff, "What pleasure? You hurt me!" I scream. He rolls back on top of me and sits on my stomache while his hands work around my neck. "Sandra baby, you know that I was your first, and no one is ever going to touch you besides me. So you better get used to us. Remember the first few time you loved it. I showed you how to enjoy it, and enjoy it you did. Then you started getting an attitude, but I guess thats what happens with teenage girls. My point is, you're never going to sleep with anyone else." With that he rolls off me while I gasp for air. "But why me?" I choke out a sob. He sits up on his elbow and plays with my hair. I pull up the sheets to cover myself and bury my face in the pillow and continue to cry. "Why you? Sandra, being with you will soon get me in control of this company. When you turn eighteen your father is gonna see how great of a boyfriend I am to you. And when the time is right, I'll ask him permission for your hand in marriage. Of course, I'll have to divorce my wife in the meantime."
Marrying me? "What if I don't want to marry you?" I ask. He chuckles, "Trust me Sandra, I'll make you love me." "I will never love you! What makes you think that my father will fall for your bullshit? You're fucking crazy and I hate you! Besides, I never want to be in a loveless marriage." I spit in his eye. "You know, you're really wanting to get the shit kicked outta ya aren't ya?" He asks. He smoothes down my hair and attemtps to kiss my forehead. I headbutt him and try to get out of the bed. He grabs my waist and throws me back down onto the mattress. "Feisty tonight, aren't we?" He says and holds my arms down. "I guess we're both up for round two then. But first I need you to really calm down." I decide not to push my luck and settle for turning my head to the side and wishing I were somewhere else. "That's better." He forces himself inside me slowly. I know what he's trying to do. "It's not going to work.." I mumble. He ignores me and moves his hips and tries to get me to match him. "It worked last time." He finally says.
"Please," I beg, "Please just stop. I'm tired and I really don't want to do this anymore!" I start sobbing. I don't care that he's broken me down. Nothing's really left of me anymore, so I'll just let him see me at my weakest moment. "Jesus Sandra, way to kill a boner!" Frustrated, he pulls out and just lays there next to me. "Aren't (sob) you (sob) going to (sob) leave now?" I ask. "I'm going to let them find us."" What? No! Please no, Randy! Please!" I beg and sit up in the bed and pull my knees to my chest. "Then do what I ask." He growls. I wait a few seconds. He takes my silence as a refusal and takes out his cell phone and speed dials my fathers number. I can hear it ring from where I sit. H emakes a kissy face at me and smiles. "Hello Mister McMahon, sorry to--" I take his phone and close it shut and tackle him and press my lips to his. "That's what I thought." He says and flips me over to where I'm underneath him.