Doll (MikaYuu)

♦10♦ - Suffocation

One night ago, it took me until I had awaken from my subconsciousness to realize that I had been narcotized again. I laid on my bed in the dark, and someone had already begun to undo my clothes. It was too much energy to open my eyes, so I laid with them closed, hoping that I was asleep and unaware of my molestation.

That is when I realized that they would've never clothed me back.

I had woken up just as it had begun.

"Mikaela," she softly said, and I could feel her presence leaning over me.

No... Not you. Never you. Why you?!

"Please, open up for me," she whispered into my ear. I felt a tear slip from my eye. "It is me, you can trust me."

"No," I shakily whispered, shaking my head as she interlocked our fingers. "I cannot trust you."

She wrapped her arms around me, and I could not remove her from me because they dosed me with a temporary paralysis.

"Yes you can; I will not hurt you like the other women."

"I want no women touching me!" I yelled, finally feeling adrenaline give me a rush to snap back and weakly open my eyes. I nearly butted our heads, quickly turning away. I exhaled sharply, trying to move my numb legs.

She slapped me across my face, resulting in a surprised shout from me. "You need to discontinue your fussing. Do you do this with other women?"

I faced her with grimace, tears that I could not wipe away slipping from my eyes. "Do not ask me about how I've been molested."

Her curls were red at the time, draped around our heads, like the threatening walls of Hell as she tilted her head. "My love, I will not molest you. I will be sincere and devoted to you, and I will mend your forlorn isolation."

I shook my head, trying to struggle from her arms. The last root of my family who was cutting away my faith, lying to my face and planning to hurt me.

"Viníce," I begged, suffering from the hellish kisses she trailed up my neck. "Please, I will not tell... Let me be-"

She kissed my lips, having to hold me tightly through my objection. I tried to curl my lips into my mouth, but she had me good. I still cried, looking up to the dark ceiling pitifully. She began to undress me, sliding her clawed hands down my torso.

"God, please-" I whispered helplessly as she left my lips. She left kisses of mercilessness and wrongly conquest. I was in Hell, and one of his helpers was touching me. I wasn't religious, but I heard He gave faith. I was far too of a disgrace to receive help from him, but I held a pathetic hope within me.

My molestation was inevitable.

She entirely removed my shirt with haste, discarding it beside my paralyzed body. I did not want to be touched; I wanted my shirt of armor and closure. I wanted to hide forever, away somewhere I could hide my bare body and my mind. But I was in Hell, and everything was open for the taking.

"Mikaela," she said through a sensual voice that was a demon's hiss to me. "You shouldn't fear what is not to be feared."

I closed my eyes in disbelief and shook my head. "Shut up," I whispered, wishing I could move my ill hands to hide my face. She ignored my comment - or so I presumed. She just replied without having to use words - she continued to molest me.

I wanted to be saved. I could not, though. This was what I suffered through. I had to have done something to deserve this torture. Bad things cannot happen to good people, and I have been damned with the tricking thought of that. So was I bad? Where had I wronged? Where have I wronged so horribly that my own kin was tormenting me?