Tough Love

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

I can feel myself trembling in fear. I know what's going to happen, but just because the mind knows what to expect it doesn't mean the body isn't frightened. They only give us enough drugs to be subdued, not enough to dull the pain or the mental and emotional trauma. Maybe that's part of their sick joke. Who knows with these sick people. Maybe they get a kick out of breaking us even more. I say us, but I don't even know if there are more girls. For all I know, I could be the only one. Despite how badly I've been treated, I want to be the only one. I don't want any other girls to go through everything I have been through.

This is the fourth time this guy has been in to see me and he has to be one of the worst. His clothes and hair suggest that he is a well kept man. He's very conscious of the way he looks and the way he carries himself, but he has to be one of the most sadistic people in the world. He always finds new ways to hurt me. Newer and sicker ways to torture my body and my mind. Is it even violation, if I'm considered a prostitute? I mean, that's what I am, isn't it? I don't fight; I can't fight, so it's not like it's against my will. My mind screams no, but my body doesn't react. I do nothing; I say nothing. I know that if I do either of those things, the treatment will be much, much worse. That's not the point though, is it? I'm guilty of feeding their urges, of making them think this is all ok. Because I don't fight, I'm just as bad as they are, if not worse.

I whimper slightly as he brings the blade closer to my skin, but I don't move. He must have heard me whimper, because he growls, “Be quiet! You know the rules!” He slaps me, hard, and my face turns away from him with the force of the blow. I bite my tongue to keep quiet as I feel the knife biting through my flesh. It's not an overly sharp knife, which causes more pain and it makes healing take longer. He uses the knife on the soft flesh on the inside of my thigh and on my abdomen. I dread to think how I look. I must have scars upon scars dotted all over my body. Shouldn't that make me repulsive to these people? I guess their animal instinct overpowers the need for my good looks. The pain is the only thing that keeps me in this reality. I want to escape to a nice place in my mind; somewhere with people who love me and won't do awful things to me, but I know that's not a sensible thing to do. I know that if my mind waivers then I could miss an order, and that would lead to an even worse punishment.

Just when I think the pain has dulled to a bearable level, he buries the point of the knife deep into the flesh on my thigh and twists it underneath the muscle. I scream in pain because even in my drugged state, the pain rips through me.

I wake up screaming, and I throw the bed clothes off me in a panic, searching for the blood. I scan my legs, feeling for the pain and the blood. My body is shaking out of fear and remembrance. I feel nauseous. I can feel the pain; I can feel and see the blood everywhere. I can almost taste the blood because the smell is lingering in the air.

“Dani?”

I jump and let out a scream. I'm still frantically searching for the source of the smell; that stench of blood.

“Dani? What's going on? What are you looking for?”

“It's got to be here somewhere... Help me find it... The smell is just unbearable...”

I'm frantically running my hands over my legs and I reach for the hem of my t-shirt to check my stomach, when I feel Eli's hands grab mine. I jump back in shock and fear, but his voice slowly brings me back to reality. I realize it's a nightmare; that it didn't just happen.

“Dani? Baby? Talk to me. What happened...”

“I can smell it. Can't you smell the blood?....”