The Unspoken Truth

Seven

Author Note: Major Warning this chapter has some major abuse trigger. I just want to warn anyone that gets triggered by sexual abuse please be aware of that in this chapter.

Stella,

When I finally regain consciousness, I find myself chained to a bed in his bedroom. He is nowhere to be seen, indicating that he must be in another room or out of the house. I wonder how he managed to leave his house when he was supposed to be under house arrest during the trial.
I need to free myself from these chains before he returns. Perhaps there is something in the room that I can use to defend myself and call the police. Unfortunately, I realize that I left my phone on my bed in the motel room.
I struggle to break free from the tight chains around my wrists, but my efforts are in vain. The bed frame is made of metal, making it even more difficult to escape. Frustrated, I let out a yell of frustration.
After about a minute, the door opens and Professor Hamilton enters the room. He seems oddly excited, clapping his hands together as if my awakening is the highlight of his day.
"You won't get away with this," I assert, trying to sound confident. "My parents and the police know where you live. As soon as they realize you're not in the courtroom, they'll put two and two together and come looking for me."
"Well, it's a good thing I'll be in court then," he smirks. "You, on the other hand, won't be there. You got cold feet and ran away from it all. And when I'm acquitted because the prime witness is absent, we'll be free to start a new life far away from here."
I swallow hard, realizing the gravity of the situation. "When am I supposed to testify?" I ask, hoping to buy some time.
"Today. If you don't show up today, I'll be set free. Then we can finally be together," he replies with a sinister grin.
"My parents will notice I'm missing. They're not stupid. They'll have the police search your house first. Your plan won't work," I try to reason with him, hoping he hasn't thought everything through.
He lets out a dark laugh. "They can search my house all they want, but they won't find anything. I'm not foolish enough to bring you to my home. I have a secluded cabin in the woods where I go when I need to be alone. That's where I've taken you. Nobody knows it exists."
I feel a sense of dread wash over me. This situation has taken a turn for the worse.
He checks his watch and says, "It's time to go," before leaning down to kiss me. The sight makes me sick to my stomach. He grabs my hair forcefully and tells me not to act that way, claiming that he worked hard for us to be together. Finally, he leaves the room, and as soon as I know he's gone from the house, I start trying to free myself from the restraints. I struggle to twist my body and loosen the chains from the bed, but the bolts connecting the headboard are tightly fastened. I desperately search for an object to help me loosen them, but there's nothing nearby, not even a nightstand. Frustrated, I try to think of a solution. I pull my arm repeatedly, attempting to loosen the headboard, but it remains fixed. Exhausted and tearful, I take a break, unable to comprehend why he was released from jail during the hearing. He had tried to kill me, and now he has me captive. Once I catch my breath, I pull on the chain again, and to my surprise, I hear a crack. I managed to crack the edge just enough to slip my hands through. Now I need to free my feet. I sit up in the bed and work on getting my feet out of the shackles. Thankfully, they're not as difficult to remove as my hands were. Once I'm free from the bed, I have to walk with the shackles on my legs. It's not easy, but I shuffle my feet and start looking for something to break the chain apart. I make my way to the bedroom door, but when I try to open it, I realize it's locked. Panic sets in as I search the room for a window or any means of escape. Unfortunately, there's nothing. I sit down on the floor by the door and start kicking it with all my strength. Luckily, the door is made of wood and cracks easily under my kicks. Finally, I'm in the main area of the house and I spot a door. I rush towards it and yank it open, only to find Professor Hamilton standing right in front of me. He picks me up and carries me back into the house, admitting that he didn't do a good enough job of chaining me up. He reveals that the court hearing has been postponed for another week because neither I nor my parents showed up. He expresses disappointment that we couldn't leave for Mexico and mentions that we'll have to work on restraining me better. He suggests making dinner and going to bed, claiming to have big plans for us. It's clear that he's completely unhinged.
"I'm not that hungry," I told him.
"Well, young lady, it doesn't matter if you're hungry or not. You children seem to think you can do whatever you want. But you'll need your strength for what I have planned. Professor Hamilton says, winking at me."
Once he turns his back, I search for something to hit him with or even a knife to defend myself. But there's nothing I can find without him noticing, so I reluctantly sit down in the chair and wait for him to fix dinner.
If my parents weren't at the hearing today, it must mean they went into my room and found my phone on the bed. Hopefully, they went through my text messages and saw that I was just going to get some ice and then go to bed. Maybe the motel we were staying at has cameras and they can see what happened to me. But did the professor wear any disguise or did he kidnap me with his face exposed?
Professor Hamilton brings over a couple of plates and sets them down on the table. It looks like he made mac and cheese with chicken.
"This used to be my daughter's favorite meal when she was younger. Back when she thought her daddy was cool. But now she's in college and thinks her father knows nothing, and her mother, and that bastard she's married to, have all the answers. But you're not like that, Stella. I've always seen this spark in your eyes for me. You've always hung on every word I've told you, and it always showed in your schoolwork. You were the only one who greeted me every morning and said hello as we walked down the hall and came to my room and told me goodbye. I'm truly sorry that I hurt you last year. That wasn't my intention. I overheard your sister and her friends talking about a frat party you were going to, so I thought it was a good opportunity to talk before school started again."
How did he overhear my sister talking about the party when school was out for summer break?
"It was the week right before classes started again. I was at the mall when I noticed your sister and her friends. He kept talking. You know that your sister is a bad influence on you. You went to a party you shouldn't have and talked to Chad, which made me angry. So, I started drinking excessively. Chad then took you to the room where I was waiting. When the idiot tried to enter the room again, I had to throw you out of the window. And when I found out that you survived the fall, I knew we would be together."
"You do realize that the things you're fantasizing about are incredibly wrong, right? What if someone did this to your daughter?"
That was the wrong thing to say. He abruptly stands up and walks around the table, grabbing me by the throat and lifting me out of the chair. "Don't you ever talk about my daughter. Do you understand me?" he shouts, spitting everywhere. "If I hear the word 'daughter' come out of your mouth again, I will kill you."
I nod in agreement, trying to show that I understand his warning. His grip on my throat is so tight that I struggle to breathe or do anything else. When he finally releases me, I clutch my throat and gasp for air. "Please, just let me go. I just want to go home to my parents. I promise I won't tell anyone. I'll say I got scared and ran away."
"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Stella? I know that the moment I let you go, you'll run straight to the nearest police station and tell them what happened to you. Nice try, but it won't work. Just eat your food," he yells at me.
I try my best to eat the food he cooked, fearing his anger. But it tastes like acid and every bite makes me want to gag. After a few attempts, I give up and push my plate aside.
"Are you finished with your plate?" he asks, and I nod silently, too afraid to use my voice. I'm afraid it will betray my fear and give him even more power over me.
"Alright, let's just go to the bedroom," he says to me, causing my heart to race. I really didn't want to go to the room with him. So, in a last-minute decision, I tell him, "I'm still hungry."
"It's too late, Stella. I'm tired after your outburst, so we're going to bed now."
My outburst? I'm pretty sure he was the one who had the outburst. He's the one who choked me because I said something about his daughter.
He grabs my arms and forcefully drags me back to the bedroom. "Oh, Stella, look what you've done. Now I have to go tomorrow and get a new door to fix this one... well, that will take away from our time together. I hope you know that."
"Go," I think to myself.
Professor Hamilton sits me down on the bed. Then he undresses, and I struggle to keep myself from vomiting. I don't think it would help... it would just make him angrier.
Once he's completely naked, he starts removing my pants and panties.
I can't control myself. I don't want him inside me, so I fight him the whole time, trying to stop him. But it's a futile attempt. All he has to do is grab my hands and hold them above my head with one hand, and he has complete control. Once he restrains me, he wastes no time. He enters me forcefully. It feels nothing like when Kai made love to me the other day. This hurts, and it's uncomfortable.
He thrusts a few times, and then I hear him groan as he pulls out. Thank god. Once he's off me, he lifts me up from the bed and takes me into a bathroom adjacent to the bedroom, where he runs some water for me to shower. I wanted to escape through the window before he noticed, but it seems he has the same idea because he watches me the whole time. I take my shower.
Once I'm out of the shower, he leads me down the hall to another room where there are some clothes hanging in a closet. "These should fit you... you look like you're about the same size as my daughter," he tells me.
I wonder if his daughter ever comes out here anymore, but I don't voice that thought because I don't want him to go psycho on me again. Once I find a pair of pants and a shirt, I put them on, and then he takes me to another room in the house.
"Stella, I didn't want it to end like this, but you've left me with no choice," he says as he forcefully pushes me into a room through a large iron door. As I take a moment to assess my surroundings, I realize that I am in some sort of cellar, with a padlock lying in the corner. I turn to face him, pleading, "Please, Mr. Hamilton... there's no need for this. I promise I won't try to escape again."
"Stella, I'm sorry, but I have to do this until I can trust you again. We will be together for a long time, and you need to learn to trust me," he responds sternly.
I can no longer hold back the nausea, and I vomit all over the floor. This situation is worse than before. At least when I was outside, I had the chance to escape, but now there's nowhere to go.
"Look at what you've done now," Professor Hamilton yells at me, his anger evident as he backhands me across the face. "Come on, let's get the supplies to clean up this mess so you can have a clean living area. I worked hard to make this room sterile. I even made sure there's a functioning toilet, shower, and sink. And you vomit on the floor. How are parents raising kids these days?"
I contemplate throwing bleach at him, but his grip on me is too tight. I can't let him lock me in this cellar because once he does, there will be no escape.
He forces me to clean up the vomit on my hands and knees when we return to the cellar. After wiping it up with a rag, he hands me a mop to scrub the floor. As I finish mopping, I grip the mop like a baseball bat and swing it at him, aiming for his head. However, the mop handle is too long, and he sees it coming, causing it to only hit his arm. After striking him, I attempt to run out of the room and down the hallway towards the kitchen, where the back door is located. But to my dismay, the door is locked. I panic and struggle to open it, taking too long, and he catches up to me, dragging me back into the house by my hair.
"That was a foolish move, Stella," he yells at me, dragging me back to the room where the shackles are on the floor. Without wasting any time, he chains me to the floor and leaves the room. "I'll check on you in the morning," he says before walking away.
I sit in the corner, crying myself to sleep.
🙈🙉🙊
"Stella, my dear, wake up. It's time to head to the beach," Mom calls out to me. Going to the beach has always been our tradition during summer breaks, a two-week detox from school and work.
"I call shotgun!" Dakoda yells from her bedroom.
"Not if I beat you to getting dressed," I playfully respond.
"This time, I have shotgun. Girl's dad is joining us this year," Mom informs us, exciting me because Dad rarely joins us at the beginning of the trip. He usually works for the first couple of days and meets us there.
We gather our packed belongings and head out the door.
"Did we remember everything?" Dad asks as he walks out the door.
"Yes," we all respond, assuring Dad that it's safe to lock the door.
We get into the car and make our way to the beach house we've rented for the next couple of weeks.
Once we arrive, Dakoda and I excitedly jump out of the back seat and run straight to the beach, diving into the water. "Oh, Stella, this is the life!" Dakoda exclaims with a wide smile.
"Let's move here when we're older," I suggest. "We can open a bookstore somewhere and sell books and coffee."
"You've got big dreams, sis, but as Dad always says, reach for the stars and take what you want."
After spending some time on the beach, Dakoda and I made our way back to the beach house. However, to our surprise, the house has transformed into a cellar. Standing in the corner is the professor, patiently waiting for us to enter.
"Run, Dakoda!" I urgently shouted to my sister. But before I can chase after her, the professor grabs hold of my waist. He leans in close and whispers in my ear, "Where do you think you're going?"
"Please, let me go. I need to go home to my parents," I plead.
He scoffs, mocking me, "Oh, you poor, naive little girl. Do you really think I would ever release you, Stella? I would rather kill you and then myself before allowing you to escape."
Suddenly, I woke up from the nightmare, gasping for air. Overwhelmed with fear, I find myself sitting and crying uncontrollably. It dawns on me that there is no way out of this situation.
Some time later, the door to the cellar opens, and Professor Hamilton enters with a plate of food, a glass of something, clothes, and toiletries. He approaches me, forcefully lifting me up and slamming me against the wall, my face pressed against it. Then, he proceeds to pull down my pants.
"Please, don't," I cry, desperately pleading with him.
"Stella, please be quiet," he says angrily. "You've turned out to be just like the others. I'll have to teach you a lesson." With force, he enters me and I cry out in pain.
"Stop crying," I plead, angering him further. He forcefully slams my head against the wall, causing me to collapse onto the floor.
After he leaves the room, I crawl towards the sink and examine the mirror hanging on the wall. There's a large cut on my forehead.
Fortunately, Professor Hamilton left some rags behind. I wet one of them and gently cleaned the blood from my head to assess the depth of the wound. It's clear that it requires stitches, but I doubt Professor Hamilton would take me to the hospital or know how to handle it.
I press the dry part of the rag against my forehead, holding it there for a while. Despite my exhaustion and desire for sleep, it's not a good idea at the moment. I may have a concussion.
After a while, Professor Hamilton returns with a first aid kit. He approaches me as I sit and turns my head to examine my forehead. "I hope you understand that I won't tolerate such behavior again," Professor Hamilton warns me, retrieving an item from the first aid kit and applying it to my forehead.
"Now, go to bed!" he shouts at me.
Why would I go to bed? I just woke up, didn't I? I have no idea about the time or how long I've been awake since I don't have a watch. Determined, I force myself to stand up and make my way to the shower. Despite the relatively cool temperature down here, I turn on the hot water. I stand beneath the stream for as long as I can bear, until it eventually turns too cold. After drying myself with a towel, I take a seat on the bed in the corner. My eyes fixate on the chain fastened around my leg. Escaping these restraints is imperative. However, for now, I must get dressed before Professor Hamilton returns. Once I'm clothed, I decide to approach the corner where the chain is anchored and inspect it for any potential weaknesses. It seems to be embedded in the concrete floor, but there appears to be a crack on one side. If I can somehow utilize the fork that Hamilton brings in here to manipulate the concrete, perhaps... just perhaps, there's a chance it could work.
🙈🙉🙊
The following day, Professor Hamilton enters the room and informs me that he will be leaving for the day. Another day of courtrooms awaits. With a smirk, he remarks, "Let's see if your parents show up this time."
Oh no. I desperately need to free my legs from these chains.
"Hamilton, could you please release my legs from these chains? I assure you, I won't attempt anything and I won't go anywhere," I plead.
He studies me for a moment before stepping closer. "Don't you dare try anything," he warns, leaning down to remove the chains from my ankles.
"Thank you," I express my gratitude, promptly settling down in the corner to demonstrate my compliance.
Once Hamilton exits the room, I survey my surroundings. There must be an escape route. I must find a way out of here and reunite with my parents. Panic begins to set in.

@crystalsteadman 2023