Chapter 44 (Kylie)
Ever been bashed, beaten? Or fallen off your bicycle and had yourself a good ole fashion fall?
Try all those things in one, and multiply it by thirty, that is how I'm feeling.
My skin on my left calf is burned, with the same mark on Beggars stomach, because they think it's fun marking us as the Famiglia slaves.
My scalp pains from the chunks of hair I had pulled out recently.
Blood clots are a normal for me now. So is the pain between my legs, as they rape me every hour. The throbbing in my ass as they fuck it until I bleed, taking turns, laughing as I scream. There are thirty three men, thirty three bastards that rape me, that hurt me.
Once they found out my name, the men treated me like a dog. I sleep on the cold floor in this abandoned place.
I am not sure where I am, or how long I have been here. I know that I am going to die.
I pray they kill me soon.
The current man in the room, is a sadistic fucker. I am huddled in the corner.
My stomach caving in from the hunger I now face. But it is dim to the pain that burns inside my womb, the constant ache between my legs.
He is standing by the door, pulling his chain that he keeps suspended from a hook in the wall.
"Ready for me little heiress." Everyday his words are the same.
Everyday my reply is the same, nothing, as I have been doing since they threw me in here with a welcoming party of sixteen.
I remember the numbers, their faces. It is the only thing keeping me sane.
I don't stare at him, no obedience is going to stop what is about to happen.
I tried it the first few times. How long have I been in here is a mystery.
It could be weeks but it feels longer. My old life seems like a dream, this is my normal.
This is my torment.
I think of Vincent, and whether he searches for me. Our story had just began and then another disaster struck.
Only this one will be my ending. I miss my family, but even that too is pointless.
The night we got to the dock Beggar told me, I was going to die, she asked me if I was ready.
I wish she was here, they took me away the next day. Since then I haven't seen her, but I wish I could see her to answer that question, to beg her to take my life. Lord knows I am ready to die.
He comes for me and I have no strength left in me to fight.
There is no hope, no end until death.
Lifting me up, I shiver in inexplicable fear, but I am so weak that I can't do anything but let it happen.
Tears don't come any longer, my body is too dehydrated.
My mouth is so dry, I suck on my tongue. It has a hole in it, that I'm sure is infected.
I hope it kills me. I pray the beating will be worse today, once this guy has his fill.
And the other man who will come after that one, I pray he will kick me harder so my insides can rapture and I can die.
He drops me down hard on the cemented dirty floor, the chains dangling from either side of me.
My knees at first protested the drop, but now it has happened so many times the pain is welcomed, it is what I know, what I am accustomed to.
My lifeless arms are lifted and the chains are wrapped around my chaffed wrist.
I wait on the floor, naked as I have been since they threw me in here.
Listening to his thirteen steps. That is how long it takes to get to the other side of the room.
I hear the familiar click of the floodlights before it comes on, he loves to use it. Because he is filming this.
Thirteen back, he lifts the chains until I am forced to get up on my weak feet, that are riddled with blisters from the shock stick I was beaten with not too long ago.
I don't know time, I don't count days. I know numbers, I know sequence.
I know that once I am righted to my feet he is going to hook my wrists with chains into the top of the doors hook.
He does that. My feet dangle like I am crucified.
My head hangs as his stinking breath touches my cheek.
He slips a condom on, takes my legs and wraps them around his hips and he rapes me.
Taking my dry, bruised and probably diseased cunt like he has.
The man has a big dick and it pains, oh fuck it pains.
I wish I can cry, I want to scream for my papa it's so sore.
He bites my neck, pinching a nerve and that too is so fucking agonizingly painful because he just bit the same place the last time he was in here.
It wasn't long ago.
My legs shake because they are so weak and my back screams in agony as my spine keeps getting bashed against the hard bump in the door. Oh gosh, please stop.
I want to yell, but who is going to hear me, who is listening to me.
I pass out at some stage and wake up on the floor chocking as another man is holding my jaw and shoving his cock in my mouth.
After I bit him the first time he beat me, it was so bad, then he raped my ass.
Now he holds my jaw until his dick is inside my mouth, then he takes his filthy sticky sour fingers and grips my teeth open while he shoves his cock down my throat. My infected, throbbing throat.
This is my life, this is me.
I am nothing but a hole to stick a dick in, flesh and bone to fuck up. I am nothing.
Kick, kick, punch, punch.
This is the guy, this bald skinny man that is currently beating me up, he could kill me, yes, please.
"You fucking bitch."
Pound, I fall on the floor, my forehead gets it hard.
Yes, kill me, hit me harder.
My head is dizzying, maybe I am going to die, I want to die now.
Please, hit me, boot kick in my face.
My head spins, the back of my scalp beating fast and swelling.
I can feel it.
Maybe he caused a hemorrhage on my brain.
Hit my head again. Hit me. Why isn't he hitting me?
I hear a noise somewhere, it's so loud. My ears can't handle it, what is that sound.
My mind is going blank, my eyes are fading away. I am going to die, is this what it feels like. Death, yes Beggar, yes, I am ready to die.¶¶¶¶¶¶¶☐☐☐☐