((Well, here's the third chapter. I'd like to thank my two reviewers. Only two. Come on people, would it hurt to click that button and type out a few words? Just a simple, "nice story, can't wait for more", would be greatly appreciated! I'd love to hear what my readers think! Well… Great thanks to Basium1 and glassfox222.))
Why couldn't I say anything? I had to get him to stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop! Why wasn't my voice working?
I bit my lip, if I couldn't talk then it wouldn't matter. He grabbed at my chest, pinching my breasts. I heard him chuckle a bit.
"For a thirteen year old, you have some nice tits."
I shivered, his voice scared me. Gotta get out. Gotta get out. Make it stop! I tried to talk, say something, anything. I couldn't. I just bite my lip again. My mind was screaming, get off! Stop! No!
Finally, something came out. "No…" It was weak, my voice cracked. I tugged on the restraints holding my wrists together. Then, he reached up, let my arms lose. Hope filled me, he was letting me go! I was safe.
But no. He held me down at my hips with one hand, and the other pulled my hand to his… his boy-part. He wrapped my shaking fingers around it, pulled my wrist up and down. He let go and I stopped.
"Keep going."
"I-I don't… d-don't want t-to…" The sound of my voice was pathetic, even I could tell. It was barely a whisper, cracking and shaking all over. He grabbed my hair, lifted my head from the mattress, and slammed it on the floor.
"Keep going," he repeated, a terrifying edge to his voice. I kept going. He bit my neck near the bottom, hard, it hurt. My voice wouldn't come back again, I couldn't voice my pain, the only proof of it were my tears. He stopped me to put a condom on. At least he was using one.
I shut my eyes, shut them so tight they might have never opened again. My whole body was stiff, shaking. He pushed it into me. A silent scream fell from my lips. He tried to go deeper, it didn't work too well. It must have been hard to get such a big thing into a little opening. He kept on pulling out and pushing back in. All I did was cry harder, still voiceless, no sound came from me but the quiet rustle of the pillow under my thrashing head. Back and fourth my head went, as if it were shaking 'no'.
He kept trying to go deeper, and I just tried to block it out. It wasn't working. I tried to push him off again, tiny kitten against big lion once more. He held my arms over my head with one hand, his other hand toying with my breasts, pinching, digging his nails in. It hurt. He kept hurting me and hurting me and hurting me.
I wasn't exactly aware of what was going on. I could only make out the great relief I felt when I could no longer feel his weight atop me. I was vaguely aware of him muttering, useless, worthless. I just pulled my clothes back on. I grabbed my things. I cringed, his hand was on my shoulder. He was walking me out? Is that the standard expectation for someone who just hurt someone? Nevertheless, he walked me out, down the block, then left me on my own. I was limping, I tried my best to control it when he was next to me. When he turned around I stopped caring.
I limped across the west side, over the bridge, to my house. I quietly unlocked the door, checking the time on my phone. Two thirty-six in the morning. I locked the door again and went to my room. I flopped onto my bed, sleep came instantly.
He haunted my dreams.
((Well, that's where I want to stop this chapter. Like it, hate it? Why not tell me in a review? Please?))