Say you love me

Twelve

POV TIVELLY

Chapter name: dreaming of a murder

I wake up on Ables bed, completely naked, but there is no stinging in my private parts. He hasn't done anything sexual to me... that I know of. Other than that, my whole body is filled with piercing pain. Tears leak from my eyes as I lay in pain beside one of my sleeping abusers.

I carefully bring myself to a sitting position, every move I make causing me more pain. I silently stand to my feet, barely catching myself as my legs give out on me.

I lock the bathroom door behind me, avoiding the mirror as I gently place my naked body in the empty bathtub. I curl into a ball, letting harsh sobs shake my body, forcing me to gag.

I bring my cold fingers to my face to lightly find where bruising is without looking in a mirror. I can't see out of my right eye from being swollen shut. My face is tender on my cheek and chin—the back of my head throbs from being hit there twice today.

My whole body feels broken and tender, but my back got the worst of it. I hold gashes and welts on my back from the lashes I took.

"Why wasn't I able to die this time?" The lump in my throat making my words weaker.

After my long shower, I lay on my bed, forcing myself to try to sleep.

I stand exhaustedly beside Able's sleeping bed. I watch in loath as Able's chest moves up and down. Blood lust so strong I can feel it swimming in the air around my body.

I carefully climb onto his bed, trying to avoid waking him up. I sit beside his vulnerable unconscious body, grabbing a pillow beside him.

My mind goes blank as I force the pillow onto his face, pushing all of my weight onto him. He struggles under me, causing me to feel satisfied at the amount of power and control I have over him.

I watch in comfort as his hands claw at me, trying to get me off as he is suffocating under me.

My satisfaction Is short-lived as he unbalances me, throwing me onto the bed beside him. He rolls on top of me, holding my hands down with his. He struggles to catch his breath as he squeezes my wrists tightly.

"Why didn't you just let yourself die?" I ask with my chest heaving, watching him, unphased that I had tried to kill him.

He looks at me, his breathing calm as he smiles, letting out a small laugh, "You really are a treat. I felt scared for a bit there. I can see the anger in your eyes. You were really out to kill me." He seems amused as he lets my wrists go.

I get off his bed, walking towards the door to leave, "What would you have done if I died?" He asks.

"Cry tears of joy," I respond, closing his door behind me.

I stand in the middle of the dark hall, my will to live lost in the chaos of today. Now I live to die.

I take out my phone, scrolling through the few contacts I have before finding Bexley's name. I press the call button, placing my phone against my ear.

"Tive, it's four in the morning. Are you ok?" She ends the sentence with a tired yawn. "I need you to come down here... things are getting worse." My whisper trembles as my lip quivers.

"What happened?" I listen to her shuffle around, and then something clicks as if she's turning on a lamp. "They... are getting more... violent," I respond. Of course, she knows they hurt me. She grew up watching it, defending me even when it's no use.

The night she was thrown out is the only time I've ever seen Pheobe and Mary cry. They miss her, no doubt. She had defied Presley too much for him to handle. By that time, I was only fifteen, getting the worst beating of my life as she was seventeen, screaming at him and begging him not to kill me.