Chapter Thirty Eight

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Taraji's POV

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Taraji's POV

After the whole "ordeal", Stephanie unchained me from the bed and allowed me to take a supervised shower. I was still handcuffed, but at least I wasn't stuck laying on the bed where the most vile and humiliating thing had happened to me. She washed me up, taking her time when she got between my legs. I flinched with every movement she made. She put me in a thin white t-shirt and some denim shorts that were extremely uncomfortable. She brushed through my wet hair and put some makeup on my face like I was her doll. The whole time, I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. I'm so disgusted with myself for allowing this to happen. I should have fought harder. No wonder she thinks that I wanted it. I just laid there and let it happen. I think the worst part is how gentle she was being with me. She was taking things slow, like she was trying to make love to me. I wish that she would have been rough and violent just so that my body wouldn't have been so confused about what was happening. Am I a magnet for abusers? I'm starting to think so. It's like I can't escape them. I know that God didn't put me on this Earth just to suffer, so why am I suffering so much? They say they He gives His toughest battles to His strongest soldiers, but I don't want to fight anymore. Everyone has a breaking point. I thought that I reached mine a long time ago, but this really took me there. I've never felt so dirty and low in my life. Fantasia's never going to want to touch me again.

Stephanie: You look so beautiful, Raj.

When I didn't say anything, she slammed her hand down on the bathroom counter, making me jump in fear. She roughly grabbed my face, turning my head to look her in the eye. Her spit went flying onto my face as she yelled at me.

Stephanie: When I give you a fucking compliment, say thank you ungrateful bitch!

Taraji: Fuck you!

Maybe I do have a little bit of fight left in me, but there's no doubt in my mind that she's going to drain all of it out of me before the day is over. She grabbed a fist full of my hair and smashed my face into the mirror. I screamed out in excruciating pain as what felt like millions of tiny glass shards cut my face and neck. My face was a bloody mess.

Stephanie: Scream as loud as you want. I have no neighbors. There's no sign of life for miles out around here. It's just me and you, baby. Look at what you made me do to your pretty little face. I didn't want to, but you pushed me to violence. I can take care of you if you let me, but I can also hurt you if you make me. What's it gonna be baby girl?

Taraji: I'm sorry. I won't disrespect you again.

She cleaned my face up with a cloth soaked in hot water and a little peroxide, and the cleaning prices hurt almost just as bad as the initial injury. My face was on fire. I could feel every cut flex with every movement of my face. I'll never feel pretty again. She covered some of my cuts with tiny bandaids, but eventually she ran out of bandaids to conceal them. Once she was done fixing me up to her standards, she took me back into the bedroom. My body started to tremble and I shook my head as I stared at the stained sheets, the events from only an hour or so ago replaying in my head.

Taraji: No, no please! I don't want to get back on that bed! Please don't make me get back on that bed!

Stephanie: It's ok. It's just a bed. I'm right here, baby. Would you feel better if I changed the sheets?

I nodded my head weakly, tears escaping my eyes. I doubt that changing the sheets will do anything to reverse the damage she's already done, but at least my body won't be melted to a constant reminder of my pain.

Stephanie: How about we go downstairs and get you some breakfast, and then I can change the sheets, ok?

I nodded my head again, feeling too emotionally exhausted to open my mouth and speak. She grabbed me by my cuffed wrists, dragging me downstairs to the kitchen. She sat me down at the white marble island and began to look through her fridge for something to cook. Gazing out of the window, all I saw around us were trees. I still have my phone, but I can't access it with my hands bound.

Stephanie: I know that you're a vegan, so I'm going to make you some avocado toast and plant-based bacon. Does that sound good?

Taraji: I'm not hungry. I just want to sleep.

Stephanie: You need to eat, baby. We gotta keep your strength up. I can't have you dying on me. Not yet, anyway.

Taraji: Whatever you give me, I'll just throw it up.

Stephanie: What happened to not disrespecting me again?

Taraji: You've already raped me and cut my face up with glass. The only thing left to do is kill me. I want to die.

Stephanie: I didn't rape you. I made love to you.

Taraji: Is that what you call it? You're delusional and in denial. You can't accept what you did to me. Nothing about what you did to me felt like love. Did you think I felt loved while I was crying and begging you to stop?

Stephanie: You're just confused. That evil woman brainwashed you. But don't worry baby, because I'm going to fix you.

She sat down beside me to feed me. When she put a piece of avocado toast in my mouth, I spit it right back out in her face. I'm going to push her until she snaps and kills me. If my hands were free, I would take her and myself out. I'm tired of living just to be hurt and betrayed. This isn't a life at all. I don't care if I go to hell either, because I'm already there. She took the knife that she used to cut the toast and put it to my throat.

Taraji: Do it.

Stephanie: I see those suicidal thoughts are back. Do you wanna talk about it baby? We have a lot of missed sessions to make up for, and we have nothing but time.

She took me back upstairs and threw me on the bed without changing the sheets like she promised.

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