Remember all that graphic violence I warned you about at the beginning of the last chapter? Yeah, it's happening now. Move forward with caution.
"Do you feel like a man when you push her around?
Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?
Well I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's going to end
As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found."
- Face Down, by: Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Hourglass
Chapter: 1
-Rose POV-
It's somewhere around 2:00AM, and he's just getting home, drunk, high, and upset about pissing his drug money away on a lousy game of cards.
I'm peacefully asleep in my nice warm bed, when I suddenly jolt awake from feeling two strong hands grip me forcefully and yank me out of bed. I'm quickly thrown to the floor. When I glance up at my assailant, I see that it is Royce, my long term boyfriend. He's glowering down at me with a menacing look in his eyes, and before I know it, he's kicking me in the stomach with his heavy work boots.
Now I'm completely awake, and the fuzzy mindedness is almost completely worn off. I am trying to figure out why this is happening.
What did I do to deserve this?
I keep wondering why he's been getting increasingly violent.
"Get up, you dumb slut!" he roars and delivers another swift kick to my ribs. The air whooshes out of me, and I try to fight against the black specks that start to creep up into the outer rim of my vision. My lungs are burning from the pain.
"Please, Royce…please, I can't breathe," I plead softly, wheezing, and trying to calm him the best I know how.
Usually, I only have to say his name, and he snaps out of it, apologizing profusely but still explaining why it's my fault that all of this happens. Usually, he'll speak softly, stroke my hair, and assure me that he'll be better. He'll talk of rehab, and counseling, and…a bunch of empty promises that he never keeps.
Except tonight, nothing is working, everything that usually wakes him up—isn't working. I'm quickly realizing that I am in grave danger, and he's much too strong for me. It's useless to fight against him.
I yelp as he yanks me up to a standing position by my hair and slams me face first into the bedroom wall. I can feel and hear every single root give way as he rips it from my scalp.
If the blood that oozes down my face and onto my nightgown is any indication, Royce has just broken my nose. By this point, I'm in survival mode. I try to contemplate a plan to escape. I need to play dead or just let him do what he needs to do, and maybe he'll leave me alone. If he finally leaves, I'll get out of here and get help, and be done with him once and for all—I have to get away from him. If I don't, he is going to kill me.
The realization that he could very well kill me tonight settles in, and my body trembles in fear.
"You whore. You think you can't breathe now? I'll show you what it's like to not be able to breathe!" he snarls as he whips me around, slamming my back against the wall and wrapping his hands around my neck.
The drywall cracks and splinters as my frail frame slams into it powerfully. He grips my throat, roughly pulling me forward, only to slam me back against the wall again. Tears roll freely down my face as he repeatedly slams me against the wall, until I'm sure there is a perfect outline of my body in the cracked plaster.
I can feel my ribs and shoulder blades give way as he repeats his movements. My skin is tender and is welting instantly from the force. Each blow makes the pain significantly worse. My head is cracking off the plaster, and I can feel the instant headache creep up over me. Each impact feels as though I've fallen off of a fifty story building onto hard, unforgiving pavement.
He's much too strong for me.
When Royce is satisfied that I am not going to put up a fight, he focuses his attention back on my throat, gripping it tightly and squeezing it with all of his might.
I'm choking, gasping, gagging, and crying. My arms try to move up and push him away, but the pain is practically unbearable in my shoulder blades. I finally get my hands up to his face, and I try shoving him away, but his grip tightens even further on my throat.
I beg him to stop, tell him I love him, that I'll do anything for him. I promise not to tell anyone…nothing helps. Nothing wakes him up. It's like he's possessed and will stop at nothing until the last breath of life escapes me.
My life is literally in his hands, and the only thing he seems to want is to incapacitate me. Permanently.
Finally, he releases my throat so he can cover my mouth with one hand, and he moves the other under my nightgown, touching my thighs and moving up to the apex between my thighs with extreme violence.
This terrifyingly horrific night quickly morphs into every woman's worst nightmare.
Before I realize what he is about to do, he is already doing it. He tears off my panties, tossing them across the room as he spreads my legs and forces himself between them.
"Royce, no," I plead, sobbing against his fingers as he presses them hard against my lips. I can feel my lips cracking open by the sheer force of his palm pressing against them.
Royce is raping me…and he will probably kill me tonight.
Dear God, please watch over Bella and Charlie, and my family.
I close myself off as I start to pray.
As he gets rougher, I fall deeper inside of myself, fully immersed in an out-of-body experience. It feels like my soul is floating above my body. I can see everything that is happening to me, but I am powerless to stop it.
My mind screams at him to stop, but my body sags in an unresponsive heap in his arms.
Stop touching me, you mother fucker!
How dare you take the one last shred of dignity I have left!
When he finally finishes pleasuring himself inside of me, he drops me to the floor like a discarded piece of trash.
It is then that I feel myself return to my body. He delivers a not-so-powerful kick to my leg and doesn't spare me a backwards glance as he storms out of the bedroom and out of our apartment.
As soon as I hear our front door open, I crawl as best I can to my phone. It's charging on the nightstand beside the bed.
When I reach it, I know exactly which number to call.
It isn't 911.
It's not my parents.
Ring…ring…ring…ring… "Leave a message."
I choke out a sob when the voicemail picks up. Panic spreads through me as my consciousness starts to slip, and I quickly start slipping into shock. My body is trembling with unused adrenaline, and I know I'm going to pass out soon.
Oh my God, what if he comes back to kill me?
"Bella! Bella, please, help me…" I whimper into the receiver.
Then everything goes black.
AN: Link to the Hourglass banner is on my profile, made by Heather Dawn.
Thank you for reading.
xxoo,
Missy
P.S. Thank you to Project Team Beta, MzBionic, CaraNo, and One Brave Lamb for betaing, proof-reading, and tolerating my ass. lol They all had a part in helping with this. Thank you ladies! Much love. xxoo.