Chapter 5

1.7K 44 3
                                    

Emma Hart POV

|||FLASHBACK/DREAM|||

My hearts pounds in my chest as I feel around the dark basement. I've been down here for several days, with no food or water.

"Please." I croak, my throat dry.

I hear footsteps, and feel two feelings. My first feeling is happiness. He's going to let me out of here.

My second feeling is dreading what is to come. He'd let me out...if I promise not to struggle.

I hear the basement door creak open, as light blinds my eyes. Soon, they adjust on the dark figure looming in the doorway.

"Say it." He says.

"I've been bad." I whisper.

That was only the first thing. Tears float down my cheeks as he holds out a bottle of water. I step forward and take it from him, drinking it slowly.

Relief from the water overwhelmed the fear of the future. I don't speak again until I have emptied the bottle.

"Thank you." I say, handing him the empty bottle.

"You'll get food afterwards." He says darkly, taking a step toward me.

I whimper and take a step back, begging him with my eyes not to do this to me.

It didn't work. It never does.

|||FLASHBACK/DREAM OVER|||

I thrash in my sleep, someone is touching my arm.

I scream, still partially in the dream, when someone touches my face.

I gasp and my eyes fly open. My hand quickly jumps to the hand, grabbing it tightly.

"Daddy p-" I begin, then I register who is with me. Detective Benson.

"Detective." I breathe, letting go of her hand.

She slowly draws it back as I wipe the tears from my eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks calmly, but I could see it into her eyes, the emotion.

I stare at her. I don't answer, just stare.

After a moment, she ducks her head. "No. Okay." She whispers to herself.

Soon, I speak.

"No one wants to know what he did to me. Because he's going to come waltzing through that door in..." I glance at the clock, looking to see when he gets off. "About 3 hours." I continue.

"He's going to have the loving father on. Worried about me. Thanking you. But he'll say that I shouldn't have done something. And when we get home?" I whisper, my voice breaks, and tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

"He'll tell me that I need to learn some respect." I choke. "And he'll beat me and rape me and sell me to his friends." I shout.

I gasp and slowly put my hand over my mouth.

She sighs. "How long has this been going on?" Olivia whispers, leaning down toward my hospital bed.

I shut my eyes, and allow a few tears to slip out. "5 years. He st-started on my t-tenth birthday." I whisper.

Olivia touches my hand, bringing it to her. She slides the blanket off my arm.

"And when did this start?" She asks me, gently tracing her finger over the scars I gave myself.

I sigh, looking at her. "I made 3 cuts every time..." I trail off.

"Did you count?" She says softly.

I nod. "I made over 300 cuts."

A/N: Hope you liked it! Sorry it took awhile >_< if you have any suggestions comment them! I love comments 😂

Abused and MisusedWhere stories live. Discover now