The Victim (Book #1)

Chapter 54

[[[[ A/N Trigger Warning (this whole book is essentially but here ya go) Reminder: This is a memory. ]]]]  

He had hit me, and I didn't know why, but it didn't matter at this point. All that mattered was that it hurt, and I was afraid it wouldn't stop. Even when the bruise faded and the fingerprints dulled, I could feel his hands on me. I could feel his fists coming at me. I could feel him, pressed behind me, suffocating me with his presence.

I was face down on my bed, but I didn't cry. I felt numb, like I wasn't in this world and nothing of it could affect me.

I could hear his footsteps and the creak of the stairs as he came up to see me again. What more was there to do?

I wanted to sit up and look presentable. I wanted to be perfect, so he wouldn't have a reason to hurt me. But instead I stayed lying flat on the bed as the door opened and he walked inside.

"Maya?" he asked.

I didn't answer. I felt a slap on the back of my thigh that had a sharp sting to it. I took a breath and then pushed my arms beneath me and rose to face him.

"What do you want?" I asked in a monotonous voice. He would think it was disrespect, but I knew the truth. I was empty.

The second slap came without warning. The expression on his face was blank; I couldn't read a single thing from his eyes or mouth or body. And then my face was turned away and he was lowering his palm with a smile. What are you smiling about? I wanted to scream.

I lifted my head to look at him once more, stifling the words that I silently yelled in my head.

"You will treat me with respect." He snarled.

"Yes, Sir." I replied automatically, without expression or tone.

"Good girl." He said, glancing around at my room, not thinking of another excuse to hit me for once.

"But-" I hissed out without thinking, as anger came flooding into my system. The numbness had reached a breaking point and although I felt nothing, I felt it passionately. There was nothing he could do to me that would hurt worse than the pain I lived with every day.

He could kill me, and I was sure that one day he would. But it didn't matter anymore. It was too late.

"But?" he asked, eyebrows raised as if he thought I didn't have it in me. I didn't think I had it in me either.

"I won't let this go on forever." I said. It was a threat, and I made sure he knew it.

Anger sparked like little fires in his blue eyes and he laughed a truly frightening laugh. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and a chill went through my body. I tried not to physically shudder, but my legs were vibrating, and my hands were quaking.

"I don't care if you don't believe me. One day, I'm going to hurt you. And it's going to be a lot worse than a little slap." I said before the hitting started again and my courage was drowned out in his laughter.