What happened to you?

What happened to you? A story of an abusee - Ch5 part one

It was completely silent to my ears as I looked at Jonah, excepting my own ragged breathing as I stared at the scariest thing that had happened to me today; the mafia pervert from earlier was a pussycat compared the anger I knew to be roaring in Jonah.My irrational, shocked mind was wishing that the legth of hall between us was much longer. He stepped down from the stairway, casually picking a stray thread from his suit jacket. I winced as the thread snapped.

Neither of us spoke for a moment; I looked at his face, my own frozen in shock; he looked at the floor by my feet, and I didn't know what he was thinking. Suddenly, as if prompted by some unknown signal, his gaze lifted up, travelling slowly along the line of my legs, over my hips, tracing the line of my chest, and resting on my face. An ugly sneer grew on Jonah's features, and my feet unconsciously shifted back slightly, my shoulders pressing against the front door.

My heel scraped across the tiling, squeaking loudly. I glanced down at my feet for a microsecond, but a microsecond was all Jonah needed to start bounding down the short hallway. In a short moment he had his meaty fingers around my neck, and he lifted me up; I gasped for breath as my feet dangled 6 inches above the ground. Trembling, my fingers tugged fruitlessly at his iron grip, but there was no deterring the monster that called himself my stepfather. Jonah's face was ugly, twisted with a hatred that I didn't know I deserved; his fingers tightened on my neck as he pulled me forward and back quickly, smashing the back of my head against the doorframe. I blinked hard, blinded for a second. I gasped, coughing.

"Let me go.." My words were mere wind in the face of his anger. His eyes were scarier than I'd ever seen, crazed like an enraged bull and bulging with anger. My mind, albeit getting oxygen-starved as it was, was frozen on the simple questions that pulled at my heart - Why did he hate me so much? What did I do to get him so angry? Wasn't there any way I could placate him?

Jonah seemed to know a way. Tears ran down my reddening face as his other hand ripped at my borrowed dress, tearing the seams. My trembling grew to shuddering as he pulled off my clothes. He shredded the shawl off along with the gown, and hs hand released me suddenly. I fell to the floor, gasping dizzily, my arm trying to cover me whilst I massaged my aching throat. Jonah knelt on my thighs, reaching down to my feet and ignoring my cries of pain. He grasped my ankle with one hand, whilst grappling the heel of my t-bar dress shoes and wrenching with all his might. I screamed, my cry dissolving into loud sobs. He casually slapped me across the face, knocking my chin into the tiling of the floor, and my sobbing lessened as I tried not to incite more of his violence.

It was to no avail; he suddenly seemed to realise the shoes wouldn't come off without undoing the straps, and he reached for his trouser pocket. My cries turned into terrified gasps as he pulled out a pen-knife. At this close range I could smell the alchohol on his breath, and at that moment I really believed I was being punished by some higher being; Jonah was my hell, and there was nothing I could do.

I pressed my forehead against the tiling, squeezing my eyes shut and simultaneously gritting my teeth. The sobs still wracked my body, but I tried to keep my leg still as I knew what was to come..

My expectations were not lowered, as I felt the cold blade against my skin. A second later I felt the pain, as it cut across my flesh in Jonah's drunken attempt to take all items of clothing off me. The strap snapped before the blade went into muscle, and I gasped through my teeth as he grasped my other leg. Another casual blow that I hadn't realised was coming smashed my head once more into the doorframe, and as I rested my head on the tiles again, I felt a wetness leaking behind my ear down to my cheek; the latest knock had me bleeding, my hair soaking almost immediately.

I felt Jonah's pocket knife againt my ankle again, but this time it was stabbed in - either Jonah was too drunk the realise which way he pointed the blade, or he just liked to see me bleed. Regardless, I screamed through gritted teeth as I felt the knife point scrape against the ball of my ankle joint.