WARNING: Graphic. I think, at least. Rated T for subject matter. Shipped by House, M.D…technically. Well, I guess there's no real 'ship' in this…oh well. Whatever. No, I don't own House! By Hadley.
They sat on the bed
Under the fading moonlight
Together.
--
He slept,
His arm wrapped around her body
like a blanket.
--
She sits in silence.
Sleep won't come.
Not when he's with her.
Not anymore.
--
She hated him.
Hate
Was such a strong word.
Yes.
She hated him.
--
He had taken her,
Used her,
Stolen her,
Invaded her,
Secluded her.
She hadn't had a minute of
Alone
Since he'd brought her home.
--
He didn't let her leave.
--
She squirmed in her seat,
Avoiding the tightness
That always came from his nights.
This night had been one of the worst.
--
She lies completely naked on his bed,
Her clothes who-knows-where.
She wanted to leave.
She needed to leave.
--
Quietly, carefully she slipped off.
His arms flailed wildly,
Hitting her in the shoulder.
She suppressed a cry.
He was still asleep, and
Only reacting to the movement.
--
She continued walking.
Her bare body shivered.
It was
Frozen
Outside. Everything was frozen.
She grabbed at the dark silhouette on the floor—
A blanket.
It was wrapped around her instantly.
She continued walking.
--
The door to his badly furnished apartment
Creaks open.
She cringes, eyes blazing with fear.
No sound comes from his room,
As far as she can tell,
She's safe.
--
She steps out the door,
Her feet connecting with the poorly cleaned carpet.
She steps on a creak,
And gasps.
But it is too late.
A hand flies across her mouth,
Suppressing her screams.
--
One look into his eyes says everything—
He's going to rape her.
Again.
And she won't be able to hide the bruises he lays upon her body tonight.
--
The blanket is ripped off.
She stumbles across the floors,
Kept upright by the punches to her head.
He thrusts her onto the bed, pinning her arms down.
She wants to cry.
But she can't—
Her tears had dried up long ago.
--
She starts to fight him,
But he hits her.
Hits her hard.
She can taste the blood pooling in her throat,
Feels it on her lips,
Feels him getting too close.
Much too close.
--
Another knock on the door.
Forget the knock, another hit to the door,
And it breaks down.
A man steps in,
Haggard and tired.
No!
She cries.
Surely not another?
--
But this man bolts to the bed, snarling at him.
The newcomer lifts a tall stick-like object
And hits the rapist on his sorry head.
He collapses.
--
She turns, horrified.
Will he?
Will he touch her?
The door is open; she can run for it.
She edges up, and starts to run
When suddenly she realizes what the weapon had been.
--
A cane.
House had saved her.