Beat The Love Out

1.6K 62 17
                                    

I got accustomed to the quiet hours of day where I would hear nothing but a distant chirp of birds. No one ever came close to where I was-of course, He had picked this spot especially for that reason. No one around to find me, no one around to hear my screams, no one around to save me. I was all alone, except for nights. Nights is when He would come to me. Quiet, eerie day turned into loud, painful nights.

I sort of gave up on moving around, instead just laying exactly the way He left me, until the next time He came. There was hardly any space to move. If I lay flat out, my head and feet would touch the walls. I lay back and stared at the flickering lights for hours. I hardly moved, only when I needed to pee.

I heard his truck rolling towards me. I didn't even flinch anymore. I just lay still, listening to the click of his heels on the ground. When it came closer, I could her the click of the metal stars on his cowboy boots spinning, the sound of metal against metal. I heard him open the door, toss down the ladder, and climb down.

In my peripheral, I saw his cowboy boots taking the rungs slowly, taunting me, lengthening my anxious terror. But fear, I didn't show fear anymore. I didn't show anything anymore. I just lay there.

I took it, took the hits, took the rape, with a stone-cold mask over my face. I hardly even blinked. It hurt like hell, and tears would pour out of my eyes, but other than that you wouldn't be able to tell by my face that I was hurting. When he would leave, then I would break down and scream. But now, for now, while he was here, I didn't react. I didn't want to give him that pleasure.

He walked towards me, and stood so his legs were sprawled out, my body between them. He sneered down at me, took his foot, and shoved the back of his boot against my face. The star cut into my cheek, and my eyes watered.

If I made it out of this, I'd have star-shaped scars all over my body. Just another addition to my numerous collection of scars. Not that I would make it out of this. There was no way in hell that I could escape. I knew it, He damn well knew it, and He loved it.

He grabbed my hair and pulled me up to face him, and I cringed slightly. "Hey! Hey bitch! Respond to me! What? You think you're so tough and strong? You think that my beatings aren't painful? What, you think you're strong enough? Think you can take them without batting a pretty little eyelash? Is that a challenge?" he yelled in my face.

I rolled my eyes to face him, took a deep breath, worked my jaw, and collected all the spit in my mouth....and then.................
I spat right on His face.

I put all my anger and despair into it, thinking of how He had ruined my life, taken me from Ronnie, and hit Ronnie with His car. Every insult He ever threw at me, I threw it back at Him, and it powered the spit, sending it sprawling all over His nose, spattering onto His cheek, dripping to His chin.

His face tensed up and He dropped me. I fell to the ground with a painful thud. He wiped his face and rubbed it on his pants. His face was hard for a second, and then He screamed in anger.

When He looked at me, the lighting cast ominous shadows, veiling His face. I swear His eyes looked like they were glowing with fiery hate. He turned his body towards me, and instinct told me to curl up into a ball. I really wish I had trusted and acted on my instinct, because having a protective layer covering my stomach would have been nice when he sent his foot full force into my gut. I bent over in pain and started coughing.

"How do you like me now bitch? Huh? Am I rough and tough enough for you now? Huh? Huh?" He yelled at me, and grabbed my hair, ripping my head up. He kicked my stomach again and again, holding my head up so I couldn't curl up or protect myself from His blows.

Then He kicked me and I threw up a liquid that burned my throat and made my mouth sour. I was throwing up my stomach acid because my stomach was empty. He kicked me again and I coughed and coughed, and then liquid was dribbling out of my lips and down my chin. He let me go and I bent over, coughing. When I looked down, I saw a pool of red had collected under where my mouth was. Blood.

My throat was raw and my mouth tasted like putrid, sour acid and metallic blood. My stomach was throbbing, and I couldn't even bear to shift my weight. But He wasn't done. He took off His clothes and kneeled over me. "How do you like me now, bitch?" He asked me, and then He pulled down my pants.

The pain of it all got to me, and I started sobbing, pathetic whimpers rolling out of my mouth like razor blades. He grinned at me, His eyes glowing with sick pleasure. "There you go, am I rough enough for you now?" He asked, grinning. He pulled off my shirt and clenched my chest in His broad hands, squeezing. I screamed in pain, tears making my face warm and wet.

"AM I ROUGH ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW?" He screamed at me, and slammed himself in me. My eyes closed in pain and I screamed and screamed, my voice raw and my body trembling.

"It hurts! It hurts! IT HURTS!" I screamed, sobbing and whimpering. He just kept pounding into me, squeezing and pinching my chest, digging His nails into my skin. "Damn right it hurts! You deserve it you slut!" He yelled at me, and slapped my face.

He wrapped his hands around my neck, closing my throat up until I couldn't scream, until I couldn't breathe. He strangled me as He raped me, and the water in my eyes started to burn, my mouth blaring open, desperate to get some air.

He finished, and He let my throat go. I gasped, taking deep breaths, but it hurt my lungs, hurt my throat. I whimpered and coughed, more blood dripping to the floor.

He laughed at me and got dressed, giving me one last kick and then leaving me.

I lay there naked, gasping, wondering what it would be like to be fucked by someone I actually loved, someone who could actually truly loved me, someone who treated me right. Someone...someone like Ronnie.

I started crying silently, tears pouring down my face, mixing with my blood and turning the ground next to my mouth pink. I gulped and touched my heart softly, feeling it beating hard beneath my ribcage. I could hear it echoing in my ear, loud and fast.

My heart was still beating, my lungs were still breathing, and I was still living. But for how long?

The Drug In Me (Ronnie Radke Love Story)Where stories live. Discover now