The Drug In Me (Ronnie Radke Love Story)

Punishment

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I staggered around, clutching my stomach as tears poured out of my eyes. What have I done? Did He see? If he did.......what if he kills Ronnie just because of that?!! What if he hurts Ronnie....kills him, because of me? I screamed and leaned against a tree.

I had wandered into the woods in my freak-out, and now I was lost. I knew it was probably best that I was here though. He would no doubt punish me for that, but how much? Could this be it for me? Could he be so mad at me that he finished it, finished me, in his blind rage?

I only hoped he would spare Ronnie from harm.

What would I do now? How could I protect Ronnie?

I think I knew the answer....
I would have to do everything He told me, all that He asked, everything He demanded.

I fell to the ground, dragging against the tree and getting scratched from the rough protruding bark. I would lose the last spec of control now.......I would finally be fully nothing, fully under his control. I couldn't even say I controlled anything anymore.

My hair was yanked upwards, and I clutched my head, screaming in pain. I was pulled to my feet, my hair pulling at my scalp. Some ripped right out, tearing out of my head.

"So, you want to whore around with that faggot of yours, hmm? Did you think I wouldn't know? Did you think that I wouldn't care? You, you're mine, MINE" he said into my ear, his malice leaking, pouring out of every word he said.

He slammed his lips on mine, tearing skin off with his angry bites. My lips bled, trickling down my chin as I cried. He pulled away and glared at me in disgust.

"I'm not good enough for you, huh whore? Want some more? You fucking slut, ungrateful little bitch" he growled, slamming my head against the tree. I squeaked, too scared to make louder noises. I don't think I could even produce something louder than a whisper through my sore lungs and raw throat.

"You like me now bitch? Huh? ANSWER ME WHORE!" he yelled, kicking me as I fell to the ground. I didn't answer, knowing that would only make it all the worse. I just whimpered pathetically. "Get up, get up slut!" he said, grabbing my arm painfully and yanking me up.

He just kept hitting me, tossing me around like a rag doll, slamming my head into the trees and making every part of me covered in bruises.

If I wasn't bleeding at one spot, I was bruised, if I wasn't bruised there, I was scratched, if I wasn't scratched there I was broken.

He slammed me face-first into a tree, twisting my left arm behind me painfully until I heard a pop. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, until I heard a series of cracks and intense pain spread from my ribs. I screamed and yelled as he slowly damaged every part of me. I would be as bloody, broken and bruised on the outside as I was on the inside now.

Then he grabbed a rock, and grinned at me. A tear rolled down my cheek as he said "night night little whore" and slammed it against my head.