Invulnerable

'I'm going to die. I'm never going to get out of here.' I tugged at the duct tape that bound my arms together to the hard, raggedy, wooden chair. I looked at the gray, dull, worn out walls around me. The one light bulb over my head flickered with pity and shut off so I wouldn't have to see the horror around me. A bullet of sweat rode my profile and dripped on my torn jeans. He was coming. I could hear his oversized work boots clomp-clomp-clomping down the wooden stairs. He kicked in the door, making it small against the concrete behind it and starts closing again. The light in the hallway showed him looking at me. I couldn't see his facial expression but I knew it wasn't a smile; all I could see was a shadow.

"Listen you non-indigenous piece of crap," he walked towards me and held my jaw firm in his coarse, dry hands "I have guests so shut it. Make a peep and you wont be seeing tomorrow." He dropped his hand only to raise it again and slap my cheek. He turn with a limp and walked out the frame of the door. He turned and slammed the door, sending a picture frame in the outside hallway to the ground. He uttered a swear word and continued with whatever he was to do.

The one that is the "non-indigenous piece of crap" is me, Nathalie Polanski. I'm sixteen and I don't go to school. And the one that calls me this is my dad. Last year, my mom died in a car accident. I was supposed to be in the car with her but I made it home late that night and she had already left.

After she was buried he finally realized how hard it would be for him without her and started blaming me for not being in the car and began torturing me. I still have a room, but I only get to go up there when people who know I exist are over. All other times he sends me down in the basement to either work or do nothing except sit in the dark. I eat 2 times a day and if he decides to duct tape me I have to eat with my face and go with out showers.

Over the past year he has raped me multiple times, broken most of my ribs, my leg, slapped me more times than imagined and probably every wall here and upstairs has had me thrown into it.

I've been thinking how about how I'm going to leave. Because if I don't, I might not ever make it out. I don't really have a place to go. Before everything happened I had little friends and even those friends I had I hadn't talked to because they moved to different schools.

I wriggle around in the chair a little to scratch my leg and to try to free my hands.

2 hours have passed by now at least and I haven't done anything but play out fantasies in my head of how I'm going to get out.

I can hear him walking down the stairs again. God, what does this man want from me? I haven't moved from this spot in a few days!

He slams open the door again and this time is holding a pair of scissors. He walks over and thrusts the chair so hard that I fall over onto the uncarpeted floor. He cuts off the duct tape and I move my wrists to loosen them. He grabs my shirt and slings me towards the door.

"Upstairs! Now!" his voice bellows and bounces off the hallway and up the stairs into the main room.

I scramble to my feet and slug up the stairs. He comes up behind me and slams me screaming faster into my ear. I look at where my face hit the step and see blood.

"Get into the shower, and then into my room. No hot water and you have five minutes starting now."

I run into the living room, noticing how he didn't do anything to clean up. It looks how it did the last time I came up here. Trash everywhere and the same, fake, happy pictures of us three. I turn into the bath room and turn on the water. I undress and step into the shower and begin washing my face, trying to get the blood off. I then attempt something with my hair, only pulling it back with a hair bow from forever ago and sloshing soap everywhere. I rinse the soap off and his hand reaches and shuts off the shower.

"Times up" he bellows. He throws back the curtain, grabs my wet arm and takes me into the hallway. Im still naked and waters dripping everywhere. I'll probably get yelled at for that later. He opens his door and throws me onto the unmade bed. He begins ripping off his clothes. I try getting out the door but as he gets his shirt off he slams the door on my fingers. I slip my fingers out of the door jam and he lays me down onto the bed. He takes off his shoes and pants and begins to climb onto the bed. I scoot up towards the headboard and he follows. His big beer belly begins to ride up my legs and he crashes his lips onto mine. I try to push him off but he just puts all his weight onto me. He pushes his lips harder and I can feel his scraggly beard rubbing against my chin. He takes my arms from off his chest and pins them down on the bed. He then grabs duct tape from who-knows-where and tapes my hands against the headboard. The then thrusts open my legs. I scream no but all he does is keep going. I tell him that this is not what he would want mom to do. He then stops and looks at me. Never said anything like that before. He then picks me up and opens the door. He then drops me onto the floor and still keeps grip on my hand. My body seems limp under his force and he drags me into the living room. The TVs blaring something from the country music channel. He grabs a belt from the couch where he keeps all his other little things and begins to wrap it around my neck. He tightens it until I fall onto the floor unconscious.

I wake up in his room duct taped again to the head board in his room and my legs spread open. My stomach hurts and I see blood on the sheets beneath me. Great. Just great. I try to get free and a piece of the duct tape comes undone. I pull harder and my left hand becomes free. I use that hand to free my right hand. I look at the door and see that he left it open. This is my chance I can finally get out! I tip toe through it and look down the hallway to see ol' big jerk-off passed out on the couch with a bottle of something in his hand. I sneak into my room and grab some clothes that could fit me. it wasn't much, just some sweats, a shirt that my mom gave me that I could never fit, and some flip flops from like 7th grade. I rush to get out the door. I get threw the front door and am about to get out the screen door when I hear him get up and walk into his room. I shoot down the weed filled driveway and into the neighborhood that we live in. I start to run down the street and I look back to see him at the door screaming for me to get back into the house. He runs back inside and comes back with keys in his hand. I turn for the nearest yard and keep running towards nothing. I look and see his car going to the street and stop in front of the house whose yard I was in. he started to run after me but immediately ran out of breath and stopped. I kept running, and running and running.