❃ The Rich Man and His Fire Dancer ❃
"Dance for me like the bad girl you are, Nyra." Angelo circled me, stopping in front of me and looking up and down the belly dancing outfit I had on. No man has ever been this up close to me. They were forbidden...
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N Y R A ' S P O V:
(TRIGGER WARNING - sensitive topics)
"Please, Papa, let go of me, it hurts!" I scream as loud as possible, hoping that someone will save me, but no. There's no one here. It's dead silent. My screams are nothing to anyone that works here. I am invisible. I am nothing.
"Shut up, orospu!" He slaps me. Hard. I feel a ringing in my ear. My screams are still here but he is getting pissed off. He finds a dirty rag near him and shoves it down my throat, muffling my screams of help and choking me. His own daughter.
(T: bitch)
The knife slowly carves into my hip, the sharp feeling of the pointed end slices my skin. I feel my lungs fill with nothing but numbness. How can I avenge my mother, when I am weak myself? He will kill me just like he did with my mother. A sadistic death.
My blood pours and leaks on the marble tiles. They are stained with my last identity. I do nothing but stare at the ceiling, the walls of this room, of this house, has witnessed the death of the old me. It has seen my pain.
The same house where I spent my childhood years holding my mother's hand, embracing her warmth and falling asleep to the fairytales she created despite living a nightmare. She was my protector and I...
I couldn't save her.
-
Shutting my eyes, I allow myself to let go of the pain I have been holding back. The steam of the shower makes me feel lightheaded but I am alright. I have suffered worse. I skim the pad of my fingers over the sentence engraved deeply along my lower abdominals.
"Treat her like a whore, r*pe her"
Because of this, I will never try to find love. I wouldn't dare. I won't let anyone see this side of me. Vulnerable and unworthy, that's what my father described me as. He sees me as a piece of shit. I will prove him wrong when I will have his neck slit, his body sliced open, his bowels removed and his face disfigured.
I am scarred with cuts and no one would want me. The body that keeps men coming for more will also make them repulse me. My body is ruined and nobody would want something ruined. After my revenge is done, I want to be with my mama, holding her and crying in her arms. I want to lay my head on her lap and feel her lightly pat my head so I can sleep during the terrible weather.
Turning off the shower, I hear knocking coming from the front of the door. It seemed too quick for the pizza man but it's Manhattan we're talking about and like the weather, the people are bipolar too. I have no time to get dressed, I quickly wrap a towel around my body and sprint to the door, my wet hair is leaving a trail on the floor. Screw whoever is at this door!
