I'm Yours {Billy Loomis}

2. The Funeral

TW: Physical and Sexual Abuse/Rape

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One week later

"Come on, Elliott." My mothers, unfamiliar voice says from my bedroom doorway. I stand at my window, staring below at all of the people dressed in black in the garden.
They were here for my dads funeral.
"It's Ellie now, mom." I say with a hint of annoyance, my eyes not leaving the moving black shapes below.
She's really trying to act like a parent when I haven't even seen her in over ten years. She came running back the minute she heard of my dads death.
I wish she had just stayed away.
She left me with a monster.

"Hi, Mrs Willows," I hear Billy's soft voice from the doorway. "Can I speak with Ellie?" I hear my mother leave and go down the stairs, leaving Billy at the door.
"El, you have to come down at some point. It'll be worse if you don't."
"Will it?" I say, dully.
I hear his footsteps walk into my room and he puts his warm hands on either shoulder, spinning me around so I'm looking at him.
I stare him dead in the eyes.
I'm not crying anymore.
I'm done crying for that cunt.

Billy looks from my bruised neck, to my swollen lip, then to my black eye, all of which my dad had given me the night he died.
The night I killed him.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Please. For me." He says, leaning down a little so he's looking directly into my eyes.
"Fine." I sigh and roll my eyes.
I walk past him and make my way down the stairs, Billy following closely behind me.
I feel eyes on me, but I try to ignore them, looking straight ahead to where I'm going.

I walk through the hallway and into the dining room. This is the centre of the wake. There's a buffet of food on the dining room table.
I pick up a cocktail sausage and pop it into my mouth, looking back at the people staring at me as I do so. They don't hide their disgust or whispers.
"Hey, El. Cool party." Stu's goofy voice comes from the back doors. He hugs me round the shoulders, leaning his chin on the top of head and sways me from side to side. I laugh a little, and he ruffles my hair before grabbing a mini sausage roll.
Stu always knew how to make me smile. No matter what, he would always find some way to cheer me up.

"Hey babe." Steve Orth, my boyfriend of about half a year, puts his arm around my shoulders, and I flinch.
This earned a death glare from Billy. He was very protective of me.
Especially at the moment, and especially from him.

Sigmund Freud's theory about girls dating boys that were like their fathers happened to be right in this case.
When it wasn't my father beating me black and blue, it was Steve. I've been lying to Billy about it, but now that my fathers dead, I'm not going to be able to cover for him anymore. Although, I feel like Billy already knew he beat me too.

Sidney, Billy's girlfriend, and Randy, another one of our friends, had now come over.
Sidney gave me a small hug. She was nice enough, and didn't seem bothered by how close Billy and I were.
Randy was a strange one. We got along and he was friendly, but he was also kind of creepy. Sometimes he'd just stare at me, which seriously freaked me out.
My friends and I hung out, and my mom mingled with her old school friends, being particularly close with Sidney's mom, Maureen.

Later on, after everyone had left, I went upstairs to my room. I looked at myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath, not really knowing who I was looking at anymore.

I hear footsteps in the hallway, and look in the mirror to see Steve in the doorway, eyeing me up and down like I'm a piece of meat.
"Grief suits you." He said, with a hungry look in his eyes.
"Who said I'm grieving?" I stare blankly at his reflection in the mirror. He scoffs and walks towards me, closing the bedroom door behind him.
I tense up.
When he reaches me, he slides his arms around my waist and puts his chin on my shoulder, looking at my reflection.
"You know what might be fun?" He asks, smiling evilly at me through the mirror.
"My mom's downstairs, Steve." I say, rolling my eyes.
"She's not. She went out with Mrs Prescott." I clench my jaw, as he starts to kiss my neck.

"I'm not ready, Steve."
"You've kept me waiting long enough. Besides, now that your dad's dead, I can do whatever I want with you."
He moves his hands to the back of my dress, where he starts to unzip me. I feel his cold hands touch my bare back, making me flinch.
I turn to face him and fumble with the zip, as I try to do it back up.
"I said I didn't want to."
I see anger flash across Steve's face. He grabs my throat and smacks me against the mirror behind me. I wince in pain, the wounds and bruises from a week ago were still not healed.

"Fuck you Ellie! I've been waiting for months!" He spat at me, before throwing me onto my bed.
I try to get up but he's already on top of me. He pins my wrists down with his hands, as he straddles me. I try to kick my legs to get some kind of upper hand, but to no avail.
He has an evil smile plastered across his face. He starts to kiss me, roughly, moving down my face and jaw to my neck.
He moves my wrists so that he's holding both of them with one hand, as he starts to slide his other hand down my body.
I'm still unable to escape.
He puts his hand under my dress and reaches my underwear, moving it aside as he puts his cold fingers inside me.
It hurts.
Hot tears start streaming down the sides of my face, and I stop moving.
The sooner he does it, the sooner it'll be over. I think to myself, defeatedly.

"Please stop." I whisper, silent tears still falling.
He doesn't say anything, as he unbuttons his trousers.
Seeing an opportunity to escape, I quickly sit up and shove him off with all my might.
I rush to my bedroom door, deja vu settling in.

Before I can even make it to the stairs, Steve's on top of me, causing me to fall to the ground face first. He grabs my pony tail and yanks my head up from the floor.
"You just had to make it difficult, didn't you." He whispers aggressively into my ear, before slamming my face into the carpet.
I start to feel a warm liquid leaving my nose, and the pain is unreal.

I feel him lift my dress up over my behind, gripping it firmly. I hear the sound of fabric being moved, which I could only assume was him pulling his trousers and boxers down.
I start to crawl weakly, desperate to get away from him.
"Where do you think you're going?" His voice playful, but sinister, as he pins my weak body back down to the ground.
I feel him slide my underwear down so it's just above my knees.
I hear him spit, assuming into his hand to put on himself, and then he spits a second time before putting it on me.
Then I feel his hardness start to slide into me.
I yell out in pain, unable to move because of his weight on top of me.

He starts to thrust, but stops to the sound of keys at the door.
"Shit!" He whispers, and quickly pulls out of me. He does his trousers back up quickly and quietly, before pulling my underwear back up and pulling my dress back down over my behind.

"Elliott?" I can hear my mom call from downstairs.

"Get up!" He whispers, aggressively, dragging me up by my arm and wiping away the blood from my face. "Answer her, but don't you dare say a word!" I sniffle.
"Hi mom." My voice is shaky. Steve is staring directly at me, and I directly at him.
"How are you feeling?" She shouts from the hallway downstairs.
"Fine." I say shortly, and I hear her sigh. Me being blunt with her wasn't anything new since she'd come back. I heard her walk into the kitchen and start fiddling around.

"Clean yourself up." He looks at me in disgust, as he starts to sneak down the stairs.
As I start to go into the bathroom, I hear the door close behind him, quietly enough that my mom didn't hear.

I run the shower and step in, without taking my clothes off. I sit down underneath it and bring my knees to my chest. I hug them tightly and place my chin on my knees. I can feel the familiar warmth of tears streaming down my cheeks, as the water from the shower soaks my clothes.
What the fuck is wrong with me?