Author Note: This is where the book and story gets serious. Sexual assault will appear at the end of the chapter, I will give a warning if you don't want to read.
I open my eyes as I had before for the past few days, but unfortunately sees the same walls of Pavlova's bedroom. I know the story isn't over, but I want to go home. I haven't seen my family or friends in three days and almost always alone in a room of strangers from my childhood book. I do remember I did make a wish of being in a storybook. Maybe this will be fun?
Everything I do and say is what I read yesterday. Or was it three days ago? But I don't remember everything in the book from start to end from six years ago. I wonder what kind of free will I have in this story or if everything will be pulled my strings. I did remember yesterday that I told John I have plans, and Pavlova did. She goes to the studio. Pavlova never wanted to see John, talk in a conversation or even be in the same room again, and I agree whole heartedly.
I go through my regular routine for the morning, go to the studio and put John at the back of my mind. But he won't stay away. I get a letter in the mail from the studio and it says inside: Dear Clara Martin, Your hair is fire and I am the moth and your eyes pierce my heart. Please reconsider my offer and I will show you a good time. John Schulz. I roll my eyes, charming, but not cute or romantic. I crumble up the paper and throw it in the trash. As I walk back home, I feel like I'm being followed. I turn around and scan my surroundings, but no one is around.
The next day, Sir Thomas gives me a day off for my hard work and I think it wound be a good idea to go ridding. I remember riding since I was eight years old, but it was more of a skill than a profession. I know that Pavlova loves ridding from reading the book. What could possibly go wrong? I walk out in the same outfit as the first day to a small stable house with a satchel. In front of me is a beautiful chestnut horse, according to Mary, her name is Nymeria. I groom and tack her up, get her out of the stable, get up on her back and we start walking along the dirt to a trot in the field.
The wind passes through my hair as Nymeria picks up speed. I forgot how fun ridding a horse is, the feeling of freedom, the drive to run, the risk of the unknown. Nymeria glides across the ground gracefully with a little trip. Pavlova's life feels fun, but stressful and hard, most likely because she is 19 and I'm 16 and not a ballerina yet, so this feels liberating.
We stop after being 10 miles away from the village and walk in a meadow before I stop and get off her. I grab her reins and we continue to walk in the meadow. I let Nymeria walk around and eat the grass and I sit down and read a book from my satchel. I think reading is one of Pavlova's hobbies and the material she reads is enlightening. I know Pavlova is a feminist, she was probably one of my first role models.
After about 30 minutes pass, something didn't feel right. I feel the air around me becomes colder. Fall is ending, winter is coming in the book, but this isn't about the weather. Nymeria starts to buck and nicker,drawing my attention. I get up, place my book in the satchel, throw it on my body and grab her reins.
"Nymeria, shhh, steady." I try to comfort her, but she starts to back up. I keep a firm grip on the bridle, looking around us to try to see or hear what she so nervous about. "Hello, is anyone out there!" I shout, but no response. I do feel suspicious, especially when animals around me act up. "Lets get out of here."
I step up and get on the saddle. We waste no time and walk out of the meadow, but Nymeria keeps bucking. After we get out of the meadow, I stop her and lean down to her neck. "Nymeria, what's wrong?" Her ears start twitching the opposite way and I look to that direction. I hear a stick snap and from the behavior of Nymeria, I'm not going to stay any longer. I click her to canter and she takes off immediately. I hold on for dear life to the reins as the ground, trees and bushes flies by my sight.
"Get her!" I hear a loud voice scream and hooves stomping. It's not one, it's more like more than a dozen hooves.
I call Nymeria to get into a gallop and she picks up the pace. The hooves don't cease and sound like there coming closer. I glance back and see five men in black military uniforms on horses, holding guns. My whole body shakes and want Nymeria to be faster, but she's not trained in sport. I look left and right for a way to shake the men off me and not hurt Nymeria or fall off. My mind becomes rattled and all I can think is wake up. Wake up Clara, get out of here! Run! I make hard right, almost making fall off.
"You, go right, you, go left! Don't let her get away!" A loud roar rings in my ear.
Why are they after me? What did I do? My mind spirals out of control with questions. I turn my head to the right and see a man, five feet away from me. I glance to the left and see the same thing. No, no, no! They are going faster than me, but I try to run out to the gasp in front of me. They seem to no what I was thinking and blocked the gasp. I made a hard left and run into the trees. I duck and squint, but the thicket scratches my head and arms, Nymeria whines, but doesn't stop. I get out, but I hear and gun shot and Nymeria raises me up my her front hooves. I see a glance of one of the men and fall, hitting my head. It hen all I can see is black and hear, "Take her to the castle!" Oh God, wake me up from this nightmare.
I hear groans and slowly open my eyes to see another ceiling, not mine or Pavlova's room. I turn my head and say I am in a different room. The walls are colored dirty, dark green with golden trim, A golden desk and a huge painting in the center of the room of a single person, a portrait. My eyes widened as I noticed the person looks like John Schulz in a Black military uniform, staring up at the left corner, looking intimidating.
I look down and see brown shades of soft silk. I'm sitting on a dark blue, king size regal looking bed. My heart starts racing and I jump off the bed as the door knob turns. I look at the door open to see John, standing right in front of my with his prefect posture.
"Good morning M'lady!" His voice and eyes are calm.
"John, where am I?" I think I know where I am, but I'm afraid to say.
"Don't worry M'lady, you're safe. My men found your horse and found you passed out."
Men, found my horse and me passed out, safe? Wait! "You instigated kidding me!" I shout, pointing a finger at him.
John glance down at my finger and back at me. "Calm down Clara, I rescued you, there's no reason to yell." He replies and takes a step closer.
I recoil my finger, step back and study him, he was there. "No, I was chased by men on horses with guns, I fell off my horse, hit my head and say you in the field before seeing black!" I snap at him, backing up until my back hits the wall.
"You hit your head Clara. I believe you should lie down and get some sleep." John says calmly, guiding me to the bed.
I push him away. "No! Don't touch me!"
"Clara, don't make this hard on yourself." John comes closer, grabs my wrists and push my arms above my head. John's brow furrows and his eyes look icy, but I'm not scared yet.
"No! Let on of ME!" I scream louder as John leads me to the bed. He pushes me to the mattress forcibly and get the wind out for a few seconds. John gets on me, his legs hugging mine and hands hold my arms down by the wrists. "Get off ME!"
John's eyes grow dangerously and makes the scariest expression I've ever seen. "Don't you dare say no to me Clara." And his voice is more scary, making me shiver.
Warning: Sexual assault, lime, If you don't want to read it, stop reading beyond this point and skip to chapter 4.
He leans in and his eyes disappear in my neck, feeling him sucking on my skin. I scream and close my eyes as his hand lifts my skirt and rubs up my stockings. "Stop, stop it!" I scream, opening my eyes.
"How can I? You're turning me on. You're mine!" John chuckles on my skin, making me tremble.
He leans in and slams his lips forcibly on mine. I hear him moan against my lips, trying to make me enjoy it, but I push against it, physically. I use all my strength to try push John off. But he's too strong and pinned most of my body down.
John breaks the kiss and I gasp, inhaling any oxygen before his tongue sticks into my mouth. John's lips kisses harder and his tongue pushes further down inside. John pulls my arms up over my head, one of his hand slides down my arm and gropes my breasts, causing me to whimper against his lips.
I struggle and squirm, but it doesn't work. Feeling John's lips break from me and teeth bite my lower lip, I manage to get one leg free. I kick up and hit John in the groin, making him groan and break away from my lip. His eyes grow ferociously and wraps one hand on my neck, pushing my head in the mattress.
"Don't do that to your mater!" John growls near my ear.
"I belong to no one!" I yell, closer my mouth, gather saliva with the top of my tongue, keep my cheeks and teeth together and open my mouth, launching and hitting John with clear liquid in the face. "And you're not my master!"
End of lime
John flinches, but growls and tightens his grip on my wrists. "I swear you will regret that!" John pushes me down violently, releasing me and gets off of the bed. "You will stay here and wait for me before dinner comes. I promise we will have more fun later." He says as he walks towards the door. He opens it and turns to me, I get on my elbows, trembling. "Make yourself at home." He chuckles, exits the room and closes the door.
I immediately jump off the bed and run to door, grabbing the doorknob and try to turn it, but it won't budge. My mind and heart starts to race, panicking about the situation. "Let me out! Let me OUT!" I scream, banging on the door, but there's no response. "Help! Help! Please, let me OUT!" I continue to bang the dark wood and scream, hoping someone will open the door.
After about 10 minutes of pleading, I fall down to the ground, sobbing loudly. I still yell for help, but now know no one would help or recuse me. My mind starts to spin, realizing that I might've been raped or seriously hurt by a lord who kidnapped me. I look around and run to the windows near the bed, but they won't budge and seems like something is locking it.
I definitely don't remember this from the book. I though my book was aimed for kid between the age of 3 to 12, but everyone can read it. What John did was one of my worst nightmare, and think this might not be the end of it. I also suspect the book might be molding to my deepest concern, thoughts and nightmares. Seems like I was both right and wrong about being in stuck in a storybook of my childhood. I fall on the bed and curl up into a ball, continue to sob. I need to get out of here.
Author Note: As I said again, from this point, the story has gotten more serious. There will be some mature subject matter so I don't have to warn you every time. But I hope you liked this chapter and please review.