It's What Makes Me, Me

The figure gliding slowly down the stairs towards me barely looked as if it was touching the steps, I could sense its presence, and something in the room had changed as if all heat and happiness in the world had been removed. My kidnapper had to be male; their shoulders were broad sheltered by a large band t-shirt, a black colour with crimson red blood dripping down the front of a beige coloured skull, I recognized it, I had one exactly like it, it was an Avenged Sevenfold trellis top. Who did I know who liked this music? Before this moment I would have bet money on Elliot being the kidnapper, but this made me wonder, Elliot never let on he liked that music, never the less I would have won. Elliot’s face came into view a smug grin on his face the wicked glint returning to his eyes, eyes that were fixed on me as his tongue slowly flicked out and licked his lips, and then it hit me the sudden realization I was in trouble trapped like an injured creature unable to escape from the hunter.
I closed my eyes, knowing it was pointless I just hoped it would be over soon. Elliot’s large hand gripped me, nails piercing through the flesh on my left shoulder, I would show no pain, pain was but a weakness and I would not be weak. Wrenched to my feet, I felt my shoulder scrape up the harsh brick wall gasping in pain, and eyes wide with agony as Elliot’s smile changed, he was calm. Had he done this before? Pinned against the wall, struggling to keep my lips away from Elliot’s as they tried to attack mine. One hand held both my wrists; high above my head the other was trying to grab me, and forcefully holding my face still his free hand had found my chin. Elliot’s lips hungrily claimed mine, his tongue pushing against my lips; I tried to refuse it entry but it wasn’t up to me, it danced around my mouth touching every last part, I knew this was his way of claiming me. I was unable to fight my way for freedom, chloroform still dampening my system. My teeth clamped shut, the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth but it wasn’t mine, Elliot’s tongue was trapped between them.
Trying my best not to respond the way he wanted to his actions angered him; Elliot’s fist came crashing into my ribs leaving me choking for breath. As I gasped for breath his lips reattached to mine, I still would not respond to his physical approach, I would not back down on my instincts. Blow after blow hit my ribs, till breath couldn’t enter my lungs, I struggled, falling like a dead weight to the floor. Relief filling my mind as cool breath hit my internal system, ‘Shit!’ I had broken my silence, Elliot ceased the moment as a small victory, one step up the ladder to me being his. Pressure increased suddenly on my body, Elliot was above me forcing him self upon my body, hands roaming my shivering body. Unintentionally our heads connected, reeling back in pain an angry expression formed across Elliot’s face, I however had jolted backwards directly into the stone floor, my vision blurred and the previous headache increased to a point where my head felt like it was going to explode.
A loud cracking noise rang out, blood dripping down from my nose, I knew it was broken but I wouldn’t respond. I was on my feet again being pulled towards the steps, Elliot’s hand wrapped around my hair yanking it firmly. I counted the steps distracting myself from what I imagined was going to happen to me. It wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to me, I could tell this was not over; in fact this would go on for longer than I’d like. My mind was in a whir, images of my past flashing before my eyes, realistic, frightening and vivid, the sounds, the smells and the feel of everything was convincing.
The large wooden door swung noisily open on its rusty iron hinges, revealing a light wooden floored hallway, blinded by the sudden flood of light I winced. Large open windows allowed light to flood the house, through it all that could be seen was the orchard and fields slowly fading in the dwindling light. ‘You hungry?’ taken aback by the sudden care giving, I shook my head in reply; I was escorted to the kitchen. The drawer rattled as it was yanked open, duct tape! Why was duct tape needed? I was soon to find out. My elbows, waist and legs were taped to the back, arms pulled straight so my wrists could be taped to the legs of the tall chair. I was offered a selection of things bread, cereal or fruit, defiantly I refused, Elliot seemed hurt, he’d shown compassion and I had blatantly refused, he turned fishing through a cupboard for his next weapon of choice. I forced my mouth shut and tried not to breathe as unknown spray showered my face, I knew I was in trouble now.
Reopening the large door, droplets of fluid dripping down my cheeks, I tried to run but my plan was to fail. A leg shot out, tripping me and sending me tumbling down the large stairs. More crunches and cracks met my ears as I continued falling, the click of the door locking seemed much louder than it should have been. Cradling my ribs, whilst dabbing my nose with a slither ripped off my corset, I could finally show my pain. Salty tears flooded my cheeks, combining with blood and dripping onto the pale skin of my naked thighs. It still didn’t equal my worst memory, the painful experience where I had been betrayed by my father, ignored by my mother, tortured and sold to many others, traded into a whore house for a week.