The pain was unbearable, tearing me from the inside out, threating to consume me whole. I squeezed my eyes tight, biting me teeth down and closing my jaw to hold back the screams that was inching up my throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing me in pain.
"GET UP YOU WORTHLESS GIRL!" he screamed, sneering in my face while kicking me in my side and sending a cracking sound echoing in the empty house.
The tears leaked out, streaming down my face as the pain became excruciating, black spots starting to cover my sense of vision. "I ca- can't" the words coming out through clenched teeth as I was trying to bear against the aches and open wounds the man above me gave first hand that cover every inch of my body.
He grabbed a fist full of my hair and pushed me into the bedroom, tossing me onto the bed and locking the door behind him. He climbed in after me, laying his body on top of mine, pinning me down and crushing any chance of escape. His eyes held nothing but anger and disgust. The man I knew and grew up loving was gone and he wasn't coming back.
"No please, please don't do this," I pleaded, but I knew it was useless. In his eyes I was getting what I disserved.
"It's time to teach you a lesson girl," he pulled down my pants as well as ripping off the last layer that kept him from teaching this so called "lesson" causing sobs to rake my body, my eyes blurring with uncontrollable tears.
What happened next changed everything. The way my so called father thrust in and out of me, groaning and grunting not caring about the fact the one beneath him was his very own flesh and blood. To him I wasn't his daughter, not anymore.
How even when I'm alone I still feel like his hands are on me, running up and down my bare legs while shallowly breathing from behind me. The way he would smack me or worse when I tried to protest or get away. His lips, kissing along my throat and biting hard against my sensitive skin, drawing blood and leaving the marks of his teeth to scar my skin for the rest of my days.
Every time I close my eyes, attempting to catch even the slight ounce of sleep I'm haunted with the memories of what took place behind that door. How the man I was raised to always trust, to never fear, took my innocence. Violating me in the worst ways possible while changing the way I will forever look at him from that day on.
Forty-eight hours we where in that room, forty-eight hours of pure hell. A lot can happen in that short amount of time, for me, that was the longest most horrifying hours of my life.
It's been a total of two years since that day, and yes, I've learned my lesson.
YOU ARE READING
My Mute Mate
WerewolfI don't talk. As simple as that. Not a sentence. Not a word. Not a letter nor a sound. Not since that day, the day my life became a living hell.
