Hopeless? ~ Third Part of Loverboy.

Chapter 15. ~ Ashley.

Patrick stood up from the bed, and left me lying on it, as if the didn't care no more about me, as if I'm just a thing he can use whenever he wantes to. He pulled his pants up and took a cigarette from one of his pocket, he lit it up with the lighter and started smoking it. I just stayed there, unable to breathe, completely naked, feeling the cold penetrating my skin. Patrick came over and threw my clothes at me so I could cover myself up a little. Although I still felt weak, I could move slightly—I imagine it was because I was starting to detox and the drug was slowly leaving my organism—, so I could kinda put on the dress on on my own.

The images of the recent memory were repeating over and over in my head, and became they worse as time went on, like a snowball going down a mountain. I seemed to open my eyes and see things I knew that weren't real, and when this happened, I knew I really didn't want to do anything else with my life. 

I could only stare at the ceiling, erasing everyone and everything off my head, leaving my mind completely blank. It was the first time that I actually didn't think about anything else, there was just white noise in my head and I didn't seem to care. I looked at an specific point on the roof while my lungs went up and down. I was physically there, but my whole being was elsewhere. 

Soon, Patrick finished his cigarette and came and sat beside me. He stroked my cheek with the back of the palm of his hand. 

How to say, how to describe the incredible amount of disgust and revulsion I feel against this man?

—How are you feeling, princess? —He asked with his now uncomfortably hot breath that smelled like cigarettes. 

I said nothing. My eyes were fixed on the same point of the roof of the cabin. 

Patrick, at my lack of response, took my face in his hand, his fingers hurting on the inside of my cheeks. He forced me to see him. Still: I felt nothing, thought of nothing, I didn't care anymore. Any human feeling had drained out of my body, leaving me with an oddly uncomfortable, bitter peace which was full of agony and anxiety that I could barely sense.  

I breathed. 

—Answer to me when I ask you something. —He said and put his face close to mine, I felt his lips touching my nose. 

—I hate you so much... —I managed to whisper. 

Patrick instantly slapped my face. My ears were ringing and I felt how my cheek got warm around the shape of his hand.

—Why hate the person who did you a favor? —He said and laughed like I was an ungrateful person. 

What was this jerk talking about? Did he think that this is all a gift, a blessing or something like that, for me, or to other people who are sexually abused? Like him taking away everything that's left on me, my dignity, was something sent from heaven, a strange and twisted kind of spiritual blessing? If I belonged in hell then he had no right to have an afterlife. 

After a few seconds, hours or minutes—I couldn't say exactly, being here makes you lose your sense of time completely—Dionne appeared. My head was still hollow and I didn't care. She walked through the door smiling and seemed to be in a good mood, or maybe it was just the fact that she really loved to torture me. 

—Guys! How are you? —She said, sitting in one of the old wooden tables that was covered in cobwebs—. How did it go? 

Patrick said nothing and instead offered her a cigarette, which Dionne rejected. I bet he smiled his  perverted psychopath smile, but I can't tell since I was facing his back.  

Did she also thought that all that had happened was nothing more than a heavenly blessing? Didn't she even feela little sorry for doing this to another woman, a sister—although she hates me to death—, to another of her own species and gender? Haven't she even put herself on my shoes at least once since this all started? But I can't fool anyone, I knew deep down that I deserved it. 

Dionne then approached me. She bent down so that her face would be close to mine. She smiled, though she dind't show her teeth. 

—Guess who called me yesterday? —She asked. 

I didn't answer. I just keep my eyes always on the same place with the same emptiness. 

—Well, I know that inside that hollow head of yours —She touched my temple with her finger—, there are a few neurons left to at least hear what I'm saying. —She paused—. Your sweetheart called, wondering if we could meet up to drink something together.  

Nathan? And she thinks I care?

Maybe just a little, but still... 

—I think what I said the other day it's true, he got over you very fast. —I put my gaze on her, my eyes didn't read any expression—. Anyway, I had a wonderful idea. Since no one bothered to find out where you are actually, I thought maybe we can get much more out of this. —Dionne said and saw Patrick—. We could sell her, don't you think?

I couldn't see Patrick's reaction. 

—You know, in a brothel, and we'll keep the money; I know that they pay well. So we would have a monetary and emotional reward out of this thing. —Dionne announced excitedly—. Too bad she's no longer a virgin, they would have paid much better. 

Surprisingly, I saw it coming. The best ideas always come from the most twisted minds. 

I didn't feel it when Dionne suddenly got close to me, taking my face between her hands. —Oh darling, so many men are going to fuck you that at the end you will only become more of the dirty piece of meat you already are. 

If I could talk, I would have told Dionne to spit on me to give her words the final touch. 

—Just remember, darling —Dionne finished—, this is all your fault.

«I wonder what you taste like, the salt within your skin. Evil rages inside, now I'm hungry for blood again. The moon invites the madness, brings out the worst in me. I never meant to hurt anyone, I really thought that we were just having fun, but you put the gun in my hands, so now run.»