The Last Night Revised
1.
Due to a negative review, I feel its necessary to warn those of you who have not read this yet, that there IS mentions of RAPE. No, it is NOT a fetish. It is something personal that helps if I write about it, let's leave it at that. I own nothing
Patty Lowell sat upon her bed, curled up with her arms wrapped around her long legs. The moonlight entered the dark room, touching her porcelain skin. The pillow she held close to her chest to rest her chin upon was damp from the tears she'd shed of sadness. The sixteen year old was lonely and heartbroken, had been for years. Ever since she left him… four years ago.
How she missed him. His musky scent. His muscular build and broad shoulders. His suave smooth voice. Those dazzling captivating blue eyes.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Choosing to ignore it, the young girl sniffed and buried her face in the pillow. She heard the doorknob rattle and a sigh as the door remained unopened. "Patty…" the soft voice of her mother sounded, "Please open the door…" Patty lifted her head up, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke, "Go away."
"I just want to talk."
The young blonde rested onto her back, closing her sapphire eyes. "Leave me alone." She made her voice loud enough to be heard through the thick door. Her response was a small weary sigh and was followed by muffled retreating footsteps.
With a sigh of her own, Patty sat up. She rested her naked arms upon her legs and allowed the somber thoughts to enter her mind. Where was he at the moment? What was he doing? Did he miss her? Did he ever think of her? Did he even remember her?
She gasped at a loud gunshot sounding somewhere outside in the distance. Dante?! Growing excited, Patty jumped out of bed and sprang to the window. She stuck her head out and examined the dark vicinity, searching the night for him. Searching for any sign of him.
Her smile turned into a frown. Instead of spotting the tall handsome devil hunter that haunted her dreams, she spotted vermin consisting of a stout balding man. He walked drunkenly toward her small home, spouting obscurities to the night. She sighed with disappointment. The gunshot must have come from a gang member somewhere. Her gaze returned to the man.
Watching the bloke enter through the front door. She groaned in disgust and shuddered. The bastard. She knew what he wanted, quivering as she recalled the first night; the night he stole her innocence. She remembered him forcing her up against the wall while he slowly unbuttoned her shirt. He pulled down her panties as she tried to push him away. He kissed her breasts as she cried, pleading for him to stop. When he heaved her to the ground she screamed as he forced himself inside her, thrusting harder and harder making her bleed as her sweet virgin years were now over.
Tears skimmed down her cheek. Innocence was no longer a fact. Hadn't been for such a long time. She wiped the tears away. The thought of when he took her most treasured item killed her every night and day. His kisses, his touch, his scent, it all took a portion of her soul. Each day that goes by, each time he does it again, her soul dies, and she is driven mad with anger and rage.
For three years Patty had kept it secret. Her mother had no idea, always working late or sprawled unconscious on the floor or couch, whichever she made it to first. When she had gained the courage to tell her mother, she had received a hard slap to the face. "That's not true! You're lying!" Her mother had yelled, refusing to believe her only daughter. Patty had been so shocked and heartbroken. In that moment, the relationship mother and daughter had shared was lost.
Returning to the present, Patty sighed heavily and sat on the window sill. Any minute now. Any minute he would be banging on the door, hollering to be let in or risk a severe punishment. She looked the mirror covered up with a dark cloth. She couldn't look at herself. She couldn't stand the sight of what reflected back to her. When did she become this person? When did she allow herself to be abused? When did she think it okay? What would Dante think of her if he knew what she allowed to go on every night?
After ten minutes of nothing, she began to wonder. Why hadn't Marcus burst into her room yet? With mild curiosity, she walked to the door and placed an ear on it, listening to the muffled shouts.
"Where have you been Marcus?!"
""Mind your own business woman!"
"You've been out with your skanks, haven't you?!"
"What's it to you if I have?!"
"Get out of my house Marcus!"
"Bitch! You don't tell me what to do! I tell you!"
"Get out!"
"Get out? Get out? Woman this is my house! Now shut the fuck up and make my dinner!
A loud whack and a sudden cry of surprise could be heard.
Patty flinched at the mere sound of the blow. The slap must have been hard if her mother had yelped.
"How dare you?!"
More blows could be heard. Patty cringed at the violence, gasping as she heard glass breaking and a gunshot. Quickly, she unlocked her door and ran into the living area. Eyes widening at the state of the destroyed room. Broken furniture and glass littered the floor. How could this have happened in a manner of seconds? Or had it been minutes?
The young girl's eyes wandered the destruction as she searched for any signs of life. "Mom?" she called. The home had grown eerily quiet. "Mom?" She slipped as her foot came across a warm and gooey substance.
Patty lifted her barefoot and a saw a dark red liquid smeared under it. Oh no. She swallowed. She knew the substance all too well thanks to a certain slayer. It was blood. But where was it coming from? Looking down to the floor, she followed the trail feeling a cold chill run down her spine. When she entered the kitchen a blood curling scream escaped her throat.
Gosh, it's been years since this was uploaded. 7 years I believe. I think I was... 16 when I first wrote this. Looking for inspiration, I re-read this and thought it could use a little revision. So here it is. Lemme know your thoughts!