bitter Chocolat: a victim's interlude
Before you begin this next installment, have you read bitter Chocolat: kismet?
"I don't want to die."
He laughs as he moves over me. I beg and plead with him to let me go, but he just smiles. Sick to my stomach I throw up on him. My revulsion must anger him because he slaps me hard. He doesn't stop moving. My eyes water profusely and I can barely see his face. A reprieve of sorts. I lay there whimpering and do my best to detach from what is happening, what he's doing to my body. Finally he grunts, and releases.
"Can I go now?"
He gets up and grabs a towel to clean himself off and another to wipe up the vomit. Afterwards, he checks the shackles around my wrists and heads upstairs. I begin to cry as soon as he shuts the door. I sob so long and hard that eventually, I cry myself to sleep.
An hour or so passes.
I wake up disoriented to the sound of loud crashes and bangs. For a second, I almost forget where I am. I remember his earlier assault and start to panic. This, however, is nothing compared to the fear from hearing his shout.
I don't know what's louder, his stomping or my heartbeat. I sense that he is heading my way and count the seconds before he hits the stairs. Instinctively I know that it is now or never.
"HELLLLLP! HELLLLLLLP! Somebody please, HEEEELLLLP ME." I scream over and over again.
I shout even louder when I hear him opening the door to the basement. My bellowing doesn't seem to bother him. Completely nude, he descends slowly and smirks when I come into view.
"Please. Please don't kill me, I'll do anything you want."
It dawns on me that this is the second time that he's laughed at me.
"You will do anything and everything that I want. Then, I'll kill you." His evil, all the more apparent.
This time I cry in front of him. I wonder what I did to deserve this. I'm a good friend. A good daughter. A good sister. I work hard. I'm there for people when they need me. I'm hysterical and I can't stop crying.
As he heads in my direction I brace myself for a second assault that never comes. Well, what never came was the kind of assault from before. He had something new planned.
He walks to an area behind me. I stop crying so I can hear him better. I hear the clanking of metal as he moves around. Suddenly, I feel a pinch in my neck. He drugs me with some kind of paralyzing agent. Once it sets in I can't move; but I can feel, see, and experience everything around me.
Next, as he kneels over me, I see the glint from the knife in his hand. He slashes at my abdomen and breaks skin. My blood pools but at this point, I can no longer scream. I feel the pain in every nerve, from each swipe, but he's just getting started.
I lose count of all the cuts he makes as I die inside.
A phone rings in the distance.
He pauses, wipes off a bit, and dashes upstairs to answer the call. In the meantime, I turn my eyes downward to my body and just stare.
I've never seen that much blood before.
For someone who is barely 125 pounds soaking wet, who knew I could bleed this much and not be dead. It's only a matter of time though. I can feel the life ebbing out of me and I'm cold. The hysteria must really be setting in because now I think about my little sister. She'll be so disappointed when I don't make it home over break. I swore I'd take her rock-climbing for the first time. Looks like I'm about to break that promise. If I'm lucky, I'll be dead before he returns. I'm sorry Cici. Maybe someone heard my screams from earlier. Who knows, I might get saved but right now I'm very sleepy. My eyes droop and I decide to take another nap. What I didn't know was that my next breath was my last.
By the time she closed her eyes, she was gone.
…TO BE CONTINUED.
bitter Chocolat (2017)