Cristiano's Craving

Forty Four

Rose

Breathless.

Why couldn't I breathe? I felt like my heart was attack me, beating so fiercely that I could feel every single pump. My head was pounding and my lungs were screaming for oxygen.

Oxygen.

Why did I need it so desperately all of a sudden?

I was trapped. My whole body was throbbing and there was an invisible hand over my mouth, stopping me from screaming out. It was him. He was pinning me down, his arms so strong that they could hold me down, kill me.

It was because I escaped. His coarse hands wrapped around my throat, tightening around it as he stopped me from receiving oxygen.

Black started to cover my vision, taking me deeper and deeper into the charcoal abyss.

I was falling further and further until. .

Someone grabbed me, pulling me so powerfully away from the darkness.

Gasping for air, everything came rushing at me. The bright light, the noise, the voices.

I clutched onto the dry clothing, my head so close to exploding. Everything was spinning, I could barely hear anything but abruptly, I started coughing, water splatting on the ground as it left my mouth and I panted, my chest hurting.

"Rose! Rose! Open your eyes, Rose!"

They opened, squinting in the bright light. I was spluttering, coughing so violently that water kept leaving my mouth. A warm hand wiped my eyes and I opened them finally, blinking a few times as they adjusted.

I breathed roughly as at last, my eyes met his. "Cris."

"Rose," he whispered breathlessly, his hands still cupping my face. "Are you okay? What the hell happened?"

I shut my eyes, sighing as I tried to regain my normal breathing pattern. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to compose myself. My eyes were stinging and I felt so sick. My stomach was doing summersaults, knotting in unimaginable ways.

"I'm fine. I just dozed off," I lied, a burning feeling in my chest.

"Rose, don't lie-"

"Please stop," I whispered, my voice so shaky and delicate. I turned my head, moving it away from his hands as I wrapped my arms around myself, covering my body. "Just stop."

My wet hand went to my lips.

A spark erupted in my abdomen as my breathing came more shallow and short. My mind was replaying the scene, over and over and over.

It was all I could think about; his dirty hands, his foul breath, his strong, smelly cologne, his disgusting tongue, his taunting words.

He kept pulling my hand away but I put it back, moving it backwards and towards in a swift motion, over and over.

"Stop, stop it, Rose!" He panicked, gripping my hands. "Rose!"

I froze.

What am I doing?

"I'm not insane," I firmly said, my eyes on the water. "I'm not insane," whispering almost to myself.

"What did he do to you, Rose?" His sympathetic voice asked, so soft and caring. "What did he do?"

I shook my head, holding back the tears as I squeezed my eyes closed.

"Did he ra-"

"No," I retorted quickly, meeting his eyes again. "No. .he. ." I sighed, realising our surroundings. "Can we just leave this bathroom, please? I feel sick."