Flashbacks

My back scraped against a hard-wood floor. A voice shouted at me. Threatening me. Telling me to silence my screams. Silence my cries. I couldn't. All I could feel was old scars on my back being re-opened, and fresh cuts being ripped open by loose screws on walls, and on the floor. I could feel bruises being created as my sides hit door ways, and sharp turns in the halls of my house. More like a torture chamber.

Finally, we would come to a stop, a room. My abuser, the voice yelling commands at me, would throw me on an empty bed. Bloodstained sheets. Thin mattress. He closed the door behind him. Coming toward me, with the same smug look he always had on his face. I could feel the pain. He wasn't even doing anything yet, and I could feel it. The same pain I felt every night.

Before I could scream, he was on top of me. I tried to let out a scream. He shut me up, by covering my mouth with his hand. I tried to scream through the block, but couldn't. He slapped me across the face, warning me that if I dared to make another sound, I was going to be hurt even worse.

Then, without warning, he was inside of me. He wasn't gentle, at all. He was ruthless. He tried to rip me apart. Tears flowed down my face, as he continually hurt me. I couldn't move my legs. I couldn't move at all. It hurt so bad.

All I wanted to do was scream for help.

Help. Help. Help. Please, anybody. Just help me. Please.

I couldn't, though. I was trapped. I would never be heard. He wouldn't leave me.

It went on for what seemed like hours, forever. He would never stop. Until, I felt a bit of freedom. He wasn't gone, but he wasn't inside of me anymore. As he got up, he got off the bed, and spit on me. The spit landed on my face. I could smell his beer-breath, his tobacco breath.

He faded from the room, from my view. After he was gone, I looked down on my disgusting body. Blood flowed down my legs, a small trickle, like water running, until it hit the sheets. I bent over the side of the bed, and vomited. In that moment, I decided to scream.

“Help!” I shouted, as I broke down in sobs. I buried my fingernails into my arm. I dug as deep as I could. Until I could feel the second layer of skin.

“Help! Help! Help! Help! Help me!”
My screams grew more silent, as I lost my voice. After that, I fell back into my bed. I sobbed harder, and harder. I couldn't even properly breathe. I kept crying, until I heard a soft voice say my name.

“Leah, honey. Snap out of it. It was a dream. It was just a bad dream.” the voice said.

I looked up, to see the slightly familiar man looking down on me, pushing a piece of my hair out of my eyes, and wiping tears from my eyes.

“Don't do it again, please. Please. It hurts.” I begged him.

“I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. It's okay. You had a flashback. Or a nightmare of some sort. You were screaming for help.”

I didn't wanna trust him, but when he wrapped his strong arms around me, I just held back onto him. I buried my face in his shoulder, and cried. I couldn't do anything else. I was so scared. My tears stained his red shirt. A huge stain from me crying.

“Everything's going to be okay. You're never going to see him again. I'm keeping you safe. It'll be okay. Stay strong. It's going to be okay.”

I stopped crying, after hearing his words. They were so comforting. I took my face out of his shoulder, and leaned close to him. He wrapped his arm back around me. I felt safe. I felt half way secure with him.