"Vincent, let go of me!" I shouted, tears pouring down my face. "Let go!"
He was shitface drunk and his bloody hands were all over me, only making the night's events more surreal and disgustingly vivid. I continued to sob hysterically, pushing and kicking his strong body that kept pulling me closer. He suddenly placed his hands on my cheeks, coating the skin in the blood of the people who had wronged him.
"I want you," he slurred, "right now."
I pushed harder against his chest, the flow of water falling from me, now, seeming to be a permanent stain on my cheeks. "No, stop! Vince, please. You'll hurt me."
"I want to." He grabbed my wrists.
"No!" I screamed, then kneed him in the stomach so he was doubled over and forgot about his hold on me.
But if I could learn to stop lying to myself, I would know he would never let that happen.
[extended summary inside]
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