Breaking Her

Chapter 1: Being Her (Melissa)

Imagine feeling completely and utterly out of control. 

Like you've been grasping, holding onto the little petals on the vine with all your might to no avail, to no success. It's useless. Hope no longer lies on the pages of your mental dictionary and the world as you know it, turns into complete darkness.

Everyday is a constant battle as you continue to struggle, as you continue to feel as if you have no right when it comes to the placement of your arms, your legs, the strands of hair on your head, the panties you put on, your bottom, everything. Imagine feelings as if someone else owned you. As if someone else owned your body and everything that came with it. 

Imagine then, how you'd feel. Only then could you possibly come close to a slight grasp. A slight understanding as to why I did what I did even though I still had yet to understand it myself. 

My body twitches as it begins to drift into a deep sleep and I know what's to come. They're inevitable. Completely out of my fucking control. The nightmares that force darkness under my eyes. Nightmares that rip the relaxation I so desperately need completely out of my life.

Falling asleep had become a process for me, a gruesome, annoying process I was forced to undergo every night. One more twitch and ...

"Get off me! P-Please."

I kicked and continued kicking, trying to set myself free under his grip. I felt the contractions of my lungs as my breath shortened, as I fought with all my might to end the nightmare that pulverized my life.

Although the adrenaline aguishly pumped inside of my body, it wasn't long before I realized he was too strong and there was nothing I could do to get him off.

Nothing about this felt right.

The loud sounds coming from my Hello Kitty T.V. turned into words that I simply couldn't make out. Although all my focus was centered on paying attention to the words blaring from the mini T.V. in attempts to forget the atrocity in front of me, I couldn't make out a single word. The images displayed on them only began to sink into the room. Everything was out of reach and I had never felt more alone.

"Stay right there, Melissa. Don't you dare fucking move."

His voice echoed deeply almost as if they were shooting out from the depths of that darkest hells. The rope was chafing my skin and I knew that tugging on it would be useless. No matter how hard I tried to set myself free, I was bound to the headboard and my little legs barely made it past the middle of the bed. I was completely out of control. 

I couldn't help but wish my legs were just a little longer, that I'd finally hit my growth spurt like the rest of the kids in my class. At least I'd be able to kick him with more strength. Then maybe I'd stand a fighting chance against him.

As every second passed, the ambiance in the room only grew darker in comparison with his thoughts. I watched as he picked himself up from the bed and made his way towards my closet, reaching for the devilish bottle he always left on the top shelf.

My stomach caved in and I began to feel the bile rise my throat. The bottle was simple. Clear, round and with a normal little white cap that you'd find on any other practical bottle.  Except nothing about this bottle was practical. It was only the beginning of what I knew would be the fuel to a lifetime of night terrors.

I hated that fucking bottle. It only made it easy for him to use me. Easy for him to enter me. Something I never thought possible. The little bottle tortured me along with everything it signified. He always made sure to keep it in my closet for "easy access" as he would call it. I cringed at the thought.