All His Fault.

It was all his fault I was like this.

Actually it was both his fault and my fathers. He had to own the most powerful oil company in the country that brought more money in every day. Naturally my father had enemies. Enemies that would do anything for my father to fall.

He had come up with the brilliant plan on kidnapping me: my father’s only daughter. But it wasn’t for ransom. It was for revenge. Revenge for what my father did to him.

I was tortured for hours on end with whips, sticks and anything he could get his hands on. But that wasn’t the real pain. The real torture came at night when he wanted “entertainment”. When he wanted fun.

But I wasn’t going to lose my innocence to my kidnapper. So I put up a fight. Which was rewarded with four days without food.

The next night he brought in a special something. A two inch long needle filled with strange green liquid. He thrust the needle into my arm and the effects were almost immediate. I was drowsy and I couldn’t control my arms and legs. It was like they were boneless. That was the night I lost something more valuable than gold. My virginity.

It continued for two long months, the torture and then the raping. Every time I was drugged. And every time I came to fear him and the needle more.

When my father finally found me, I was a mess. It took me months of serious therapy for me to act like my old self.

But still a picture of needle could scare me. I could no longer get the necessary shots without screaming and running out of the room, wanting to be as far away as possible from it. Every time I saw a needle, I saw him hurting me, touching me, being inside me. He ruined me. Ruined my life.