Tie. Tie. Tie

Chapter 8

April 10, 2016

Pain is used to describe how you feel when you're hurt. When a part of you has prickling feelings or when that part makes you want to ice it. Cool it down with an ice pack or talking to someone. It's hard to describe pain unless it's a pinch or sprain. But this, what's happening to me right now, isn't that hard to describe (in my mind at least).

Someone ripped open my body and laughed when I screamed. Ignored my cries like they were not there. They used their claw to suffocate me and whispered to me that I deserved this. They had muscles that overpowered me. They had the skill to manipulate me.

"I wanted to get to know all of you, Timmy. Your body was one of them. Besides, actions always speak louder than words," the monster whispered in my ear. I was caged and chained, not being able to break free. He grabbed my necklace and muttered, "Bad girls don't get luxury." Before ripping and throwing it over his shoulder. Saltwater ran down my cheeks as I let out a horrid scream. My skin burnt from where the necklace had laid.

I lifted my head, ignoring the pain, and looked in the direction where he threw it. It had landed right where I had got it. In front of my mirror. When dad hugged me and gave me this gift exactly a week from today. When he had made me feel warm and protected in his arms. I was in a male's arm now, but not safe. He wrapped my braid around his hand and pulled my face down. I gripped his wrist, trying to stop him but fell weak.

The monster doubled the pain as he brought out my unwanted birthday gift. The metal toy that started all of this. He brought it into my view to paralyze me even more and then used it to make me cry harder. Double the pain, double the stain.

"Want to know why I got a lion tattoo?" the monster asked. "Because as I take my kill today, it's a sign not to roar. Lions don't roar after a kill, Timberly. And since I can't kill you, you better keep your mouth shut." I shook my head hard. Wanting to wake up from this nightmare. Shake off the pain and guilt.

The worst type of guilt is knowing you can't do anything to stop it and having to carry it around. The monster grips me harder making me scream and yell out a series of protests but he doesn't stop. My mind fuzzes up and my eyes begin to sting again. The fire builds up in between my legs as I scream. Hoping that my voice will reach someone, but as expected, it fell on deaf ears. I didn't want this. Maybe when I got too close to him, he took it the wrong way.

"You entertain me," he whispered in my ear. The same words that once held the innocence of a sibling bond, now couldn't disgust me. All the words he said today will traumatize me forever.

"I knew you would be an easy kill, Timberly," he said. I could feel him smirking even without looking at him. My eyes refused to open and look at the scene unfolding in front of me. "All I had to do was show you some attention on your special day when you were in the most vulnerable state. I knew you'd start calling me Zeke and caring. You were always pathetic, Timberly. Always."

And the worst part, knowing I had trusted this monster. Because he was my egg and sperm donor's offspring. Because he was my Zeke.