I was not going to give him the satisfaction of see me cry. I wasn’t going to beg or cry. Somehow, a blindfold was better. This routine of binding and blindfolding me before torturing me had been going on for days...maybe even weeks. It was best that I didn’t see what was coming. I didn’t want to look at him either and I didn’t want him to see the tears or fear in my eyes.
And he was at it again. The kicks and punches....it was almost like clockwork. I switched off completely. There was no point in screaming and I knew I was going to die.
After an eternity of this, I felt him pick me up and throw me onto the bed. I knew then he was nearly done. After the beatings came the rape and once that was over, I knew he would be done for now.
Suddenly, the blindfold was ripped off and after a few moments, I saw into his dark eyes. He sneered at me, “Let’s make this more interesting....”
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H.L. Yates (joined over 12 years ago)
Aged 27, mildly dyspraxic but that will never stop me from writing :-)
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