Blind in Love

Chapter 1

Two years of darkness, complete and utter darkness. This is not how I wanted to spend my life; before I was here I was a happy-go-lucky 19 year old, living and partying in London. Now those memories are faded, my life has faded to complete darkness; at first there was light and I could see, it didn't mean that I liked what I saw everyday but atleast I could see. They would come down in packs or individually, drag me from my cot to do things, disgusting things that I really didn't want. It didn't matter how much I cried, pleaded, begged for them to stop, they never would. I was a toy, they were stronger than me and they knew it.

After a year and a half of constant abuse and torture, they'd finally pushed me to far; Kane their leader, in a fit of rage had thrown me against the wall, hitting my head so hard I'd lost my sight. Atleast now I couldn't see their dirty hands or leering faces, instead I could smell them; a pungent aroma of wet dog and filth. I couldn't see myself either, I guess thats a blessing; I can imagine what I Iook like though, my once gloosy blonde lockes now stragley, grease threads. My eyes once a vibrant blue now clouded and unseeing, my skin grime covered, the original skintone unrecognisable through the layers of accumulated filth; in all I probably looked as bad as I felt: lonely, used and broken.

Although the memories of my life have faded to distant dreams and desired fairy-tales, I still remember that night. It invaded my dreams, replaying each sight, sound and feeling; I knew every detail intimately, reliving every moment countless times, analysing what I had done to deserve this, my conclusion: I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, wearing provocative clothing with an attitude to match. I'd been partying with my university course mates, letting off steam at the end of our second year and celebrating the completion of some hideously difficult exams. I'd had a few, well more than a few; half a bottle of vodka and numerous shot to be exact, my friends were dancing and I'd left to find a toilet (the preconceived notion that women go to the toilet together was proven wrong that night as if my friends had come with me then I would not be here right now). After leaving the toilet I'd marched straight into a group of men, after apologising and attempting to walk away I was roughly grabbed by the tall, dark and (at the time) rather handsome ringleader, who I later discovered to be Kane. I had tried to get away, biting , scratching, screaming, you name it I tried it but his grasp was so tight I couldn't get enough leverage to break it. That was the first time he'd laughed at me, they all did; they laughed at my struggle and panic, they liked to laugh at me, my pleas for freedom, food or water. It had gotten to the point where I just didn't bother anymore hoping death would save me from my misery. The rest the night was a blur of movement, I was thrown into a car and raped multiple times as Kane had driven the car out of the city. Eventually we had arrived at an unknown destination and I was thrown into this shitpit: my abode for the last two years.

"Hey bitch I hope you're up for some pleasin' cos I've hankerin' for some teasin'!" boomed a slurred voice, breaking me from my thoughts and thrusting me into reality. The voice belonged to Mica, after Kane he's the one that visits and abuses me the most, he shuffling footsteps, stench of booze and slurred speech indicating his inhebriated stated; this is not going to end well.