Prologue
This time, he's managed to get me alone and locked into the back supply closet. His hands are all over me, his mouth silencing any attempt at protest- wake up, wake up!
Shooting up, finally awake, I manage to count out a few deeps breaths, in through the nose and out through your mouth… until the whirring in my head quiets down, marginally. It's not until I'm reaching for the glass of water that I notice the sheen of sweat covering my body.
This time, when I grab for the notebook, the only thing I can clearly recall is his raspy, angry whisper threatening me, "Don't make a sound Anabells! You cry out and I'll make sure they all believe that you begged for it."
Crap. I really through with these dreams.