Psychopath (EDITING)

17

what.

D-did he just say c-c-c-children?!

"W-w-woah, w-w-wait a secon—" I stuttered, trying to get my thoughts together. Stephan must have noticed my rising panic, as he shut my mouth with his hand, blocking any attempt I made at speaking. I can't believe this. This guy is nuts. No, not nuts, ballistic. 

"Sarah, please calm down. This is going to happen. You can't change it. And that's okay, baby. You'll love it. I'll make sure you love it." He winked at me, bringing his lips dangerously close to my quivering ones. My mind just froze, but my body kept shaking. He's way too close. I can see every nonexistent flaw on his face, and his deep penetrating eyes sunk into mine. If only he wasn't some psychopathic maniac. 

"G-get off of me!" I yelled while pushing his chest as hard as I could. He was not expecting my outburst, and didn't prepare for my sudden push, which left him falling backwards off of the side of the bed. Catching himself, Stephan looked at me with wide eyes. I don't where I got this sudden strength from, but as soon as I did it, I instantly regretted it. 

His eyes seemed to shift colour. His usually dark eyes seemed to get even darker. Duller. Furiously standing up, Stephan grabbed my arms and pushed me back on the bed. His nails were already digging into my wrists, harder than last time. He was acting like a rabid animal, like something crazy and manic. 

"Don't fucking push me, Sarah." He growled at me, spitting between words on my face. 

"I warned you before, Sarah—" His words seemed to slowly drown out. My thoughts were clouding my senses, making it hard to focus on whatever Stephan was yelling at me. 

I'm sick and tired of this. I hate this. First, my father. Then, my step father. Now, him. I'm tired of just letting these things happen to me. I need to be strong. I need to start doing something about all of this. I'm tired of being scared all the time.

"Stephan." I interrupted, totally forgetting that he was yelling at me. I don't care though. I need to be strong.

"Sarah, wha—" Stephan warned, looking confused by my indifference of him yelling at me.

"Get the fuck off. I'm not doing this. Listen, you fuck! Get off!! I'm not fucking carrying your baby you psychopath!!" I started to yelling, my body jumping and spazzing trying to get him away from me. I felt myself go hysteric, but I don't care. He needs to get off of me. I'm done with this bullshit.

"GET OFF!" I screamed at him, but he didn't move. He just held me down, letting my body vent all of my pent up frustration. He just watched me struggle. For what seemed like forever, I finally had to stop to catch my breath. My chest was heaving up and down, and my legs and arms hurt from struggling to break out of his hold. The whole time, as I kicked his legs, kneed him in the gut, yelled at him, he just did nothing. Like he just watching me. Observing me. Trying to figure me out. What is so hard to understand about me yelling let go, man. 

My whole body felt sore, and drained, but it wasn't until I stopped that I realized that he was barely putting any pressure on my wrists. His nails were digging into my skin at first, but now they were barely grazing them, just holding them. He seemed different too. I thought he would put up more of a fight, maybe yell back, maybe slap me like my step father did. I was preparing for it, based off of past experiences. But he didn't. 

"Are you done?" He whispered, looking at me in the eyes. The emotion in his eyes, I couldn't tell what it was, but it was different. He wasn't mad, but this new emotion, its terrifying and new. Weakly nodding, Stephan cautiously let go of my hands. The moment I felt free, I quickly scurried over to the back of the bed again. Bringing my knees close to my chest, I braced myself for his rage outburst. I knew it was coming. From what I was doing to him, he is probably trying to figure out the best way to unleash everything on me. Maybe he was going to yank me off this bed and beat me, maybe he was going to sexually assault me here, taking me by force. I don't know, my anxiety is rising as my thoughts kept filling up my sense of what was actually happening.

"Sarah.." Oh God, it's coming. He's pissed. He's going to kill me. I don't care. That was the first time I have ever stood up for myself. I need to be strong.

Closing my eyes, silence filled the room. No sound of movement, just the sound of his quiet breathing. Opening my eyes again, I saw that he hasn't moved from the edge of the bed. He looked sad, and somewhat concerned. Fuck, what is this?

"I'll leave you alone. But baby, I'm sorry but you're not changing my mind." And with that, he got up and left me alone. Overcome by confusion, I kept staring at the spot that he was sitting at. He's not going to hit me? Wait, he still wants to keep me here? Even after he saw me going insane? 

As soon as reality sunk in, I started sobbing. Loudly. I want to die. I'm so weak. The fuck was I thinking. I'm not strong. I'm just a piece of shit, just like what my step father always told me.

I cried that whole night. He never came back in and told me to shut up or hit me. He just left. I screamed, sobbed, hiccuped, gagged, and eventually I was able to pass out.