FALLEN (NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON)

68.

I look for a way to escape this hell. Despite the late hour, I want to go see Edith tonight and tell her everything. She doesn't need to live in this game as well. Part of me doesn't want to tell her, because I don't want her to feel as betrayed as I feel right now, but I can't hold it all inside. I need to tell someone, someone who'll understand my pain. I feel so horribly blindsided.

Even though all the nerves in my body want me to rush out of here and run for the hills, I am glued to this couch, this big massive mahogany leather couch. Everything is so massive in this room, in this house, it makes me feel so little, so worthless and so meaningless.

"The simple idea to have that much power over somebody excited Marcel. He has always been my submissive, so to be dominant excited him. And the more you were submitting yourself to him, the more obsessed he became with you. I actually really thought it was all real at one point, but we both know he is too far out of your league. Why would a man like him even be interested in you? I mean look at you... and look at me. Why would you even think you stood a chance? You've been clever, I'll admit that, but it wasn't enough to persuade him."

She looks at me like she wants me to react. She seems almost disappointed that I don't. I shiver in fear, not knowing what is going to happen to me, if my life is in danger. Is she just psychotic, or is she going to kill me now that she has revealed everything?

The realisation that I don't know the extent of her madness frightens me more than the actual betrayal. I clear my throat, getting ready and gathering the courage to ask to leave, but at the same time, she leans in and takes the manuscript in front of her.

"Would you like me to read what he wrote about you?" She asks me rhetorically, opening up the story at a random page.

She reads quickly through the page and doesn't find the content hurtful enough, so she turns the page to find the precise words that will end me. She doesn't know how hurt I have been before. She doesn't know that I'm used to be this broken. She hasn't been abused by Steeve and all of his friends on multiple occasions and had to suck it up. I've already been told the harshest truths about my looks, my weight and my intelligence. I've sunken into the deepest lows already... I guess I've gotten used to this pain, it doesn't scare me anymore. But the betrayal still hurts... I really thought he understood my pain, this pain, just as I wanted to help him with his. I was wrong.

"Gypsy - he named you Gypsy in this story - enters the room silently, but I could hear her steps through her flat. The weight of her curves making each step my way echo in the silence I so dearly loved to keep. I knew at that moment I had to get used to the noise her voice made, it was making me cringe at times. She has this cute and yet deplorable need to always ask questions. She wants to get to know me like a kid dissects a frog in biology classes. She wants to see my heart and that sickens me. She tries to make me talk like I'm a dictionary. She wants to ride my body like a highway, and that's the pure ecstasy she brings me. She is nothing to me than a toy I have the pleasure to corrupt. She has an innocence that tortures me with pure desire. Becoming the only thing on her mind obsesses me to a point that her weight, her looks or her personality don't matter. She is nothing more to me than a project to show how dominant and powerful I can be. I can own her to a point where she can forget who she is. I can be the only thing on her mind in a way that she'll want... no... NEED to pleasure me in any way I desire. It's so exciting to know how she loses it so easily the second I touch her... The second I murmur to her ear... The second I undress her... She isn't pretty, but the way she forgets who she is to let me be the only thing on her mind is a fucking masterpiece."

Kate stops reading at the sight of my right hand lifted in the air, begging her to stop. Not only has this been heartbreaking to know he has ever thought that of me, or only thinks that of me after everything we've shared... But what hurts me the most is his choice of word... masterpiece. For his mum and I, we used this word as a praise for him, to bring him back to his roots, the man he was before Kate. So the sad part is that he uses the same word to describe Kate's work on him and I as a masterpiece. And it isn't! It's sick!