Rowan14 #2
I couldn't see clearly, but I didn't need to see his face to feel the fury coming from him. It rolled off of him in waves, sharp and toxic. And then I heard the voice I knew too well, low and venomous and stripped of all its charm.
"I could make this quick if I wanted to. But you're not getting off that easy. I'm gonna make sure you feel every bit of it."
A flash of panic ripped through me. For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to do it again. Strip me down, take whatever he wanted, ruin me all over again. My limbs locked up as my brain screamed at me to move, do something to get him off of me.
His fist came down instead.
The first punch hit my ribs. The second came right after into my side and knocked the wind out of me completely. The third went for my face again, and I felt the wet crack of my lip splitting open. Blood flooded my mouth. The ringing in my ears swelled into a roar.
I couldn't keep track of the blows after that.
They came too fast and from too many angles.
My body jerked with every impact. I didn't even have the chance to register the pain before the next one landed.
I tried to breathe, but I could barely manage short, stuttering gasps and the occasional choked-off sound.
I had no space to think. I couldn't fight back. My mind kept scrambling to catch up, to understand what part of me was being hit, what direction it was coming from, what I could do to stop it. Every time I tried to push up or twist away, he knocked me back down.
My arms curled in instinctively to shield my face, my stomach, anything. But it didn't matter. He just kept going, over and over. Each blow blurred into the next until all I could feel was the dull, overwhelming weight of it.
I couldn't breathe. My vision swam. I didn't know where I was anymore. I only knew that I needed it to stop. I needed to disappear. I tried to curl in tighter to make myself a smaller target, but everything hurt too much. I couldn't move fast enough. The pain was everywhere, deep and dizzying.
My body gave in before my mind did. Every muscle went slack. I didn't mean to let go and stop fighting, but everything suddenly felt far away.
Finally, the blows stopped. The silence felt louder than the violence had. I didn't move. I couldn't move. I could barely tell where the floor ended and I began.
I heard him give a breathless huff. "God, you're a pain in the arse."
Then his weight lifted off me.
I didn't try to follow. I couldn't even get my lungs to work right. Every breath scraped raw on the way in, shallow and useless. My arms wouldn't move. My legs wouldn't move. My head spun so fast I thought the world might flip over. I couldn't tell what part of me hurt the worst.
Then I thought I heard ... water? Was that the tap running?
I blinked and forced my eyes open enough to catch blurry movement across the room.
It was tough to tell, but it looked like .
.. Marcus was standing at the sink. I saw the shape of him lean forward, his hands moving under the stream of water.
It took a minute to figure out he was rinsing the blood from his knuckles and checking the damage.
Like this was just another chore for him to finish.
I tried to move. Just an arm. A leg. Something. But when I turned my head, everything tilted sideways. The floor rolled underneath me, and my stomach churned with it.
Breathe... Move... Get up...
I couldn't.
I shut my eyes and tried to brace for whatever came next. But I heard footsteps before I could prepare.
My heart leapt into my throat. Panic flared hard and fast, but my body refused to cooperate. A second later, his hand closed around my arm, and he hauled me up to my feet.
The floor dropped out from under me. My ribs screamed.
My legs gave out immediately, but he dragged me up by sheer force.
I was too dazed to fight it. The movement knocked the breath out of my lungs.
Pain shot through me as the room tilted again.
Light smeared into streaks, and all I could do was hang there as he pulled me along.
He kicked open a door with a force that rattled the frame.
The bang of the knob hitting the wall made me flinch, but I didn't have time to think about it.
I was airborne for half a second, and then I landed on the bed with a jarring thud.
Pain flared through every inch of me as the bed springs groaned beneath me.
I tried to orient myself, but I didn't get the chance.
Marcus was already on me again. He straddled my hips and shoved a hand onto my chest to keep me pinned. The other shot straight for my throat, closing around it with crushing pressure. I gasped, but nothing came in.
There was no air. Just pain. Blinding, searing pain.
His hand didn't just cut off my breath. It pressed directly onto the bruises from the belt.
The exact same place he'd crushed before.
Every nerve in my neck screamed. I clawed at his wrist, but my fingers scraped uselessly against his arm.
The world narrowed in seconds, tunnelled to the dim edges of his face above me and the raw, choking panic closing in around everything else.
The realisation hit with a dread so deep it stole what little air I had left.
He's going to kill me.
I kicked weakly. My legs pushed sluggishly against the sheets, trying to buck him off, but it was like pushing against solid stone. My chest heaved for air that wouldn't come.
He didn't let go.
My body faltered fast as the last of my strength bled out of me. The panic dulled and began to turn distant. This was too much. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't get out of this.
My hands dropped away from his wrist. My body went still beneath him. My mind screamed at me to hold on, but everything else... Everything else gave up. Hell, at this point, a part of me welcomed the release. I didn't have the strength to fight him anymore.
Then his hand suddenly lifted.
Air rushed back into my lungs so fast that I choked on it. Pain tore through my ribs, white-hot and immediate. It felt like my chest had cracked open, and I couldn't hold back a raw, tortured noise that I barely recognised as mine.
The weight lifted off of me as Marcus stood up.
I didn't wait to see what he'd do next. Every muscle screamed in protest as I rolled onto my side and curled into myself as tightly as I could.
A whimper escaped before I could stop it.
I couldn't breathe right. I couldn't see straight. Everything inside me felt torn loose.
His fingers clamped into my hair and yanked my head up. My vision swam, and for a second, all I could see was his face. Eyes cold, mouth twisted in contempt.
"I hope your little friend is the one who finds your body. That'll really fuck him up."
He let go just as suddenly and shoved my face into the pillow. I barely had the strength to wince. My cheek stayed pressed into the fabric, my breaths ragged and shallow against the cotton.
I heard him step away. A pause. Then a click.
The lock on the bedroom door.
Then the slam of it closed behind him.
A second later, the front door crashed shut.
He was gone.
Relief immediately took over, but it didn't last. The pain spiked just as fast, dragging it back down and leaving only the ache behind. Every breath hurt. Every inch of me pulsed in agony. My head spun so violently I thought I might throw up. For a long while, all I could do was stay still.
Somewhere behind the pain, the panic started to crawl back in. My thoughts wouldn't line up. They scattered and looped, but they all led back to the same thing over and over again.
Eli.
I should've told him the truth when he showed up at the school. Now I could only think about what would happen if he was in fact the one who found me dead.
I swallowed and tasted blood. Something about that cut through the spiral, and my mind latched onto a single thought.
No... I can't let that happen... I can't do that to him...
A thin sliver of clarity broke through the haze. Eli was supposed to come over, but he might not get here soon enough. I didn't know how long I'd been lying here. I didn't know how long I had left.
I needed to get to my phone. I needed to move.
God, this was going to hurt.
I braced one arm beneath me and forced my body to move. Every inch of me screamed. My chest felt like it was caving in, and my ribs flared with every breath, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. I had to. I just had to get upright. Just get to my phone. That was it.
I tried to shift my weight to swing my legs off the bed. The motion pulled something sharp through my chest and knocked the air out of me. My muscles were trembling, but I dragged myself until I was near the edge.
I tried to stand. Gravity took over instead.
My legs didn't even attempt to hold me up. I slid off the mattress and hit the floor with a heavy, graceless thud. I landed hard on my stomach, and the pain that shot through me was blinding. I couldn't even catch my breath to cry out.
I lay there, stunned, face pressed into the carpet and gasping like a fish out of water. My lungs burned. My vision blurred. Everything spun.
I needed to move. Just a little. I needed to try again.
But when I did, my arms gave out under me. My body wouldn't listen anymore. Between the pain and complete exhaustion, I had nothing left.
I closed my eyes. Eli was going to find me dead on the floor. I should've just let him in when he asked about Marcus. I should've trusted him. Like I always did.
This was going to tear him up. I didn't want him to find me this way. I didn't want this to be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.
I'm sorry, Eli...
That was the last thought I had before the dark pulled me under.