14.

You feel groggy, like there’s a fine mist scattered in your line of vision when you open them. It dances around in the form of silver dots. You rub at your eyes with your hands but it ceases to clear so you gaze around blearily trying to figure out where you are and why you have no clothes on.

You vaguely remember eating potato waffles. Or was it fries and steak or greasy takeout or something as equally as random? There was definitely ice cream. You think it was apple pie flavour and there were chocolate sprinkles on top and sticky toffee sauce. You had some Pepsi crammed with ice because you were so thirsty. And then what?

You know that you recognise the room and your head finally stops spinning long enough for you to realise it’s Chester’s bedroom and you’re in his bed.

Naked.

Oh God.

You try to get up but you can’t move. The thing is when your hazy eyes manage to focus on your arms and legs they’re not met with any form of restraints. No ropes are tying you down; no handcuffs are holding you in place.

So why the fuck can’t you move?

You struggle some more but it’s no use. Your whole body feels like it’s been filled with weights that are pushing you down and keeping you firmly glued to the mattress beneath you. You panic and wriggle around but you’re soon out of breath and battling to keep your eyes open so you give in and stare at the ceiling as you try to catch your breath.

“You okay there?”

You jump when Chester sits down beside you and stares into your eyes.

“What… What have you done to me?” You ask, voice shaking.

“You were sleepy,” Chester smiles, “And you had such a fever. I thought you’d be cooler without your clothes on,” He pauses and presses the palm of his hand against your forehead, “Your temperature’s definitely gone down, that’s for sure.”

“Why can’t.. I move?” Your speech is slurred when the words finally come out of your mouth.

“You’re just groggy,” Chester brushes his fingers through your hair, “Just relax,” He smiles, “And drink this.”

You eye the glass suspiciously when he picks it up and presses it against your lips.

“It’s only water,” He tells you and you’re so thirsty that you allow him to pour some of the cold liquid into your mouth.

It doesn’t taste like water when you swallow it.

“That better?” He asks, placing the glass back onto the nightstand.

“Hmm,” You breathe out, “I feel dizzy.”

“Want me to hold you?”

You frown, “…”

“Come on,” Chester grins, sliding down beside you.

You feel like a rag doll when he pulls you into his arms and places a kiss to the top of your head but you can’t struggle or push him away like your mind is screaming at you to do. You can’t seem to function properly at all. Lying limp in his arms is just about all you are capable of.

“You go to sleep,” Chester tells you, his voice gentle when it rings in your ears.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the things I dream about,” You murmur, your eyes fluttering shut.

“What things?”

“Bad things,” Your voice croaks, “Like you hurting me.”

Chester just laughs.

+

Your senses are fine the next time you wake up. Your limbs are able to move and they do so with a sudden jolt as something, or more to the point, someone crashes inside you.

“No!”

“Fuck… You… God, finally woke up?” Is what Chester pants in your ear, his tongue warm as it dips along your lobe.

He has you pinned down on your stomach, hands clawing at your every inch as he fucks you senseless. And it hurts, oh fucking hell it hurts so much.

“Chester…”

Your voice is muffled as he grabs you by the head, pressing your face into the pillow with such force that you are suddenly very still; scared of what he’ll do to you if you dare to move. His elbow digs into the nape of your neck and his thrusts get deeper and more frenzied. You bite your tongue and try to take deep breaths through your nose.

Blood is all you can taste in your mouth. Blood is all you can feel trickling down the insides of your legs and soaking into the sheets beneath your body. Blood is all you can smell as your nose begins to bleed.

“Please…” You gasp out, Chester’s tight grip not relenting one bit.

Any minute now you’re going to black out. You can feel it, that dark cavernous pull of unconsciousness tugging relentlessly at your senses. You keep your eyes open, pleading with yourself to stay awake. You have to do this. You can’t let him…

“Fuck!”

It hurts when he spills his seed inside you. It burns and his final thrusts tear you apart. His clammy hands grope every inch of you like some hungry dog savaging a piece of meat. You twist and turn, gasping for air as you wrench yourself free from his grips.

“Morning,” He grins, brushing a hand through his hair.

You sit up, back away from him on the bed. You’re shaking to the point of near hysterics. There’s blood everywhere; on your hands; your stomach; between your legs. You scramble off the bed, feet hitting the bare wooden floorboards with a smack.

“What have you done to me?” You panic, “What the fuck have you done?”

Chester shrugs and gets up, brushing past you to pick up a carton of cigarettes from the nightstand. You stare in horror as he lights up a cigarette and takes a deep drag from it, blowing a grey cloud of smoke into your face. It makes you cough and splutter and you sink back down against the bed, rubbing furiously at your chest.

“Sorry,” Chester whispers, sitting down by your side.

“Please let me go,” You stare into his eyes, searching for any trace of him whatsoever but there’s nothing but spite staring back at you.

“Brad asked me to look after you. I’m not letting him down,” Chester’s voice trails off, “You can use the shower if you want?”

You get up and storm away, too weak and confused to argue and say ‘why thank you for being so kind and letting me wash away my own blood’. You slam the door to the en-suite and are just about to lock it when Chester’s hand pushes against the outside of it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” He smiles, shoving the door open and stepping inside the bathroom.

For a moment you just stand and stare at him as he sits down on a chair beside the radiator and places his cigarette between his thin lips.

“Well?” He glares at you.

“This can’t go on,” You stare at the floor, “Chester please just let me go home. I won’t tell Brad, I…”

“Nope.”

“Chester you have to let me go…”

“No. No. No,” He grins and blows smoke up toward the ceiling.

“What do I have to do to get through to you?” Your voice begins to tremble, “Chester I don’t love you anymore. I can’t be with you the way you want me to be… Can we just…”

“Hurry up. I want to use the shower too. Unless you want to share?” His eyes glint and a dirty laugh trickles from his lips.

“Please…”

“Oh change the record,” Chester snaps and you flinch the moment he gets to his feet, crosses over to the sink and stubs his cigarette out against the white porcelain.

“Get in,” He tells you, hand pointing to the shower cubicle.

“No,” You shake your head.

“Oh for fucks sake,” He sighs, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders.

You’re shoved in and immersed in hot water the moment Chester’s hands turn on the taps. It burns your skin and you’re left gasping for breath as he holds you under the violent onslaught of boiling hot water.

Panic is fast to rise from within, tumbling out of you in the form of a strangled cry. Strangled because Chester slams you against the slippery tiled wall and rapes you for the second time in an hour.

You admit it to yourself then.

Defeat.

+

TBC…