Mom, I'm Moving Out.
Walls to Break
Jen's POV
It's been days since we've gotten any food. Weeks without showers, and days with no light. Weeks passed and we have been locked in this horrifying basement. Pure darkness surrounded me, like a sea of nothingness. Everything around us seemed cold, and painful. Glass had been shattered on the floor from Jake's cups. He'd throw them at us when we asked for food, or anything at all. We were purely his sex slaves, and dolls; he didn't care about us, or death itself. If we died, well then it's one more person to not have to worry about. But one less person to torture and rape. He wanted us to be so miserable and filled with darkness, that even when he came in to give us water he'd shut off the lights upstairs so we didn't know what light meant anymore.
The floor that we were forced to sleep on, go to the bathroom on, eat on, and be raped on soon became all we knew. Hope? Hope was a distant, undefinable, unrealistic word. Hope was nothing, along with help, and home. None of us ever had a home to go to; we were all children of terrible places forced to sleep there and eat there. When you think of home, you imagine a mom, dad, possibly siblings and a place to always go to. Something that was a steady place to always have behind you, to back you up on. When did I have that? When was I able to say I had a home? I never was. And Jake, he considered this to be our new home. I can't imagine this to be a home, let alone a place to sleep and live.
We sat there for hours, in silence and darkness. We were so weak, and unable to speak. The smell of us rotting away, and our waste is the most repulsive thing to know. I thought rotted meat, or puke was disgusting. But being surrounded in waste, living in waste and laying in it constantly is so sickening, nauseating and foul. It was all over our bodies, and it lingered in the air with no way of escape. Sometimes, we'd puke because the smell was so overwhelming. Although, it added to the rot.
I sit there, entirely surrounded in darkness and lost hope. I loath this place, over any other place in this terrible, unfair, and cruel world. I desire a way out. I wish this was a nightmare. Within the hours I sit there, I analyze everything. I'm slowly having my sanity slip away. I confuse reality with fantasy, and dreams. I wonder, was my old home really that bad? How could I have made such a mistake, which positioned myself here?
The door slowly opened. Is that really light? Its burning my eyes entirely, causing such outrageous, dreadful pain. The light presses against my skin. My eyes scan everyone around me. Steph is sleeping. She looks so dead and pale, I pray she's not dead. She opens her eyes and turns away. The light is killing us all. Examining the girls, then the staircase, I glance at the top. I lost the hope for Rickie to save us, to take us away from this loathsome home.
It wasn't Rickie, of course. I knew not to get hopes up because the disappointment hurts worse than the floor beneath us. The floor, so disgusting. Flies, maggots and other disgusting bugs all around us. An ocean of bugs everywhere on the floor, and in the air. We breath in these bugs, eat these bugs, and live with these bugs. We are nothing but bugs to Jake.
Today was my turn. He grabbed my from the group, and unlocked my chains. Jake clutched onto my already bruised and crippled hands. I am too weak to move, to fight or defend myself. His warm hands are cover-less, lifting my lifeless body from my bare waist. He throws me onto his shoulder, and carries me up the stairs. He remembers to shut off the lights for the other girls, then I hear the door click. That noise drains my hope for life outside of these walls. It is more than a closed door sound. It is a life being hidden and shut in. I struggle to move, as my ribs boned into shoulder blade. He just positions me back, and my rib cracks. I squeak a little, as the pain is unbearable but well known and usual.
He has never taken me to another room in his house. He rapes us, usually in front of one another so we feel each others pain along with our own. To break us down, more and more and unwind the barriers we once had built with our strength. Now, he has taken me to his bedroom. I almost feel happy. The cold concrete floor is nothing like a bed. I look around as he plops my motionless body down. He orders me to walk to the bathroom and take a shower. I do so. The warm water and wonder full smell of soap is all I've dreamed of for so long. I took it for granted my whole life, thinking it would always be there. Now I appreciate it more than anything I've ever known. I feel pity and guilt inside. Knowing, I have the chance to enjoy a shower while my friends are locked in a basement.
I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body. I feel almost alive, for once in so long. I smile slightly as I look around me, almost forgetting where I am. Jake walks into the room and tells me I look beautiful. He smells me, and presses his chapped lips along my neck. The smile disappears and the fear enrages my body.
"Why do I get a shower, and not my friends? They are better than me, more worthy than I am." I had announced. After saying those words, I shut my mouth and start to cry silently realizing he might beat me again. Speaking is a high ranked mistake in this house. But, to my shock and amazement he doesn't hit me. He doesn't come close to my body. He backs away and looks at me with empty, guiltless eyes.
"They talk back. They are relentless and weren't as easy to break down as you. You were weak, and easy to break apart. I tore you apart the second I saw you. Now I can rebuild you and remodel you into who you should have been all along. You will be a mold of what is perfection. But, your friends will never be as flawless as you. They were ungrateful. They didn't respect what I was doing for them. They wouldn't appreciate what I have done and never will appreciate it. You have appreciation for me and my help and light in your life." Jake said. Was he just as insane as I am? Does he really think he's done something good for us?
My mouth was shut. I wanted to cry for my friends but there were no more tears to cry. My body is too weak to produce it. Jake begins to rape me on his bed once again. Over and over and over I feel his hands pushing against my body. They begin at my waist and up to my breast. After one round, he goes again. He rapes me eight times until I begin to bleed from my nose and waist. He stops and plops me back onto his shoulders.
Click. He carries me down the stairs and chains me back up. The other girls smell me and ask me what happened. Click. I explained, allowing them to know everything. I shared his words, trying to make them realize they are still strong and still have a chance. We all have a chance. Hope starts to enter my body, once again. The girls don't understand how strong they were and still can be. The silence overwhelms the room. Our friendships are another barrier he is breaking apart.
It's been days since we've gotten any food. Weeks without showers, and days with no light. Weeks passed and we have been locked in this horrifying basement. Pure darkness surrounded me, like a sea of nothingness. Everything around us seemed cold, and painful. Glass had been shattered on the floor from Jake's cups. He'd throw them at us when we asked for food, or anything at all. We were purely his sex slaves, and dolls; he didn't care about us, or death itself. If we died, well then it's one more person to not have to worry about. But one less person to torture and rape. He wanted us to be so miserable and filled with darkness, that even when he came in to give us water he'd shut off the lights upstairs so we didn't know what light meant anymore.
The floor that we were forced to sleep on, go to the bathroom on, eat on, and be raped on soon became all we knew. Hope? Hope was a distant, undefinable, unrealistic word. Hope was nothing, along with help, and home. None of us ever had a home to go to; we were all children of terrible places forced to sleep there and eat there. When you think of home, you imagine a mom, dad, possibly siblings and a place to always go to. Something that was a steady place to always have behind you, to back you up on. When did I have that? When was I able to say I had a home? I never was. And Jake, he considered this to be our new home. I can't imagine this to be a home, let alone a place to sleep and live.
We sat there for hours, in silence and darkness. We were so weak, and unable to speak. The smell of us rotting away, and our waste is the most repulsive thing to know. I thought rotted meat, or puke was disgusting. But being surrounded in waste, living in waste and laying in it constantly is so sickening, nauseating and foul. It was all over our bodies, and it lingered in the air with no way of escape. Sometimes, we'd puke because the smell was so overwhelming. Although, it added to the rot.
I sit there, entirely surrounded in darkness and lost hope. I loath this place, over any other place in this terrible, unfair, and cruel world. I desire a way out. I wish this was a nightmare. Within the hours I sit there, I analyze everything. I'm slowly having my sanity slip away. I confuse reality with fantasy, and dreams. I wonder, was my old home really that bad? How could I have made such a mistake, which positioned myself here?
The door slowly opened. Is that really light? Its burning my eyes entirely, causing such outrageous, dreadful pain. The light presses against my skin. My eyes scan everyone around me. Steph is sleeping. She looks so dead and pale, I pray she's not dead. She opens her eyes and turns away. The light is killing us all. Examining the girls, then the staircase, I glance at the top. I lost the hope for Rickie to save us, to take us away from this loathsome home.
It wasn't Rickie, of course. I knew not to get hopes up because the disappointment hurts worse than the floor beneath us. The floor, so disgusting. Flies, maggots and other disgusting bugs all around us. An ocean of bugs everywhere on the floor, and in the air. We breath in these bugs, eat these bugs, and live with these bugs. We are nothing but bugs to Jake.
Today was my turn. He grabbed my from the group, and unlocked my chains. Jake clutched onto my already bruised and crippled hands. I am too weak to move, to fight or defend myself. His warm hands are cover-less, lifting my lifeless body from my bare waist. He throws me onto his shoulder, and carries me up the stairs. He remembers to shut off the lights for the other girls, then I hear the door click. That noise drains my hope for life outside of these walls. It is more than a closed door sound. It is a life being hidden and shut in. I struggle to move, as my ribs boned into shoulder blade. He just positions me back, and my rib cracks. I squeak a little, as the pain is unbearable but well known and usual.
He has never taken me to another room in his house. He rapes us, usually in front of one another so we feel each others pain along with our own. To break us down, more and more and unwind the barriers we once had built with our strength. Now, he has taken me to his bedroom. I almost feel happy. The cold concrete floor is nothing like a bed. I look around as he plops my motionless body down. He orders me to walk to the bathroom and take a shower. I do so. The warm water and wonder full smell of soap is all I've dreamed of for so long. I took it for granted my whole life, thinking it would always be there. Now I appreciate it more than anything I've ever known. I feel pity and guilt inside. Knowing, I have the chance to enjoy a shower while my friends are locked in a basement.
I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body. I feel almost alive, for once in so long. I smile slightly as I look around me, almost forgetting where I am. Jake walks into the room and tells me I look beautiful. He smells me, and presses his chapped lips along my neck. The smile disappears and the fear enrages my body.
"Why do I get a shower, and not my friends? They are better than me, more worthy than I am." I had announced. After saying those words, I shut my mouth and start to cry silently realizing he might beat me again. Speaking is a high ranked mistake in this house. But, to my shock and amazement he doesn't hit me. He doesn't come close to my body. He backs away and looks at me with empty, guiltless eyes.
"They talk back. They are relentless and weren't as easy to break down as you. You were weak, and easy to break apart. I tore you apart the second I saw you. Now I can rebuild you and remodel you into who you should have been all along. You will be a mold of what is perfection. But, your friends will never be as flawless as you. They were ungrateful. They didn't respect what I was doing for them. They wouldn't appreciate what I have done and never will appreciate it. You have appreciation for me and my help and light in your life." Jake said. Was he just as insane as I am? Does he really think he's done something good for us?
My mouth was shut. I wanted to cry for my friends but there were no more tears to cry. My body is too weak to produce it. Jake begins to rape me on his bed once again. Over and over and over I feel his hands pushing against my body. They begin at my waist and up to my breast. After one round, he goes again. He rapes me eight times until I begin to bleed from my nose and waist. He stops and plops me back onto his shoulders.
Click. He carries me down the stairs and chains me back up. The other girls smell me and ask me what happened. Click. I explained, allowing them to know everything. I shared his words, trying to make them realize they are still strong and still have a chance. We all have a chance. Hope starts to enter my body, once again. The girls don't understand how strong they were and still can be. The silence overwhelms the room. Our friendships are another barrier he is breaking apart.