Ruin

9. Trixie

NINE

TRIXIE

15 years old

It hurts today. So much more than yesterday.

I shouldn’t have fought him; I should have just let him do it. But no. I had to fight.

Now I have a black eye and a cut lip. What’s the reason for it? What excuses am I going to make up this time? I told the truth last week, and my dad shouted at me because the bitch told him I was acting out and wanted the attention. Bitch.

No one listens. What is the point of talking? I’m silenced when I talk, so I might as well stay silent.

I feel his lips on my shoulder, and his hand on my ass. “You get me hard so fast. I’m so happy you’re mine. I’ll never let anyone else have you.” I push his hand away from me, and he grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back, making me scream out in pain.

“Why can’t you learn?” I want to shout at him because no matter what, you will hurt me anyway. If I play his sick game, he will still hit me. If I don’t play, he hits me, slightly harder. So I might as well show him that I hate him touching me and I hate him talking to me.

I’m never going to cower down to him. I’ll fight every single time. I’ll take the fucking punches, the slaps to the face, the kicks to the stomach, but I will never lie there accepting what he is doing to me. Never. Not for him.

Three years ago, I made that promise to myself, and I still keep it. I’m never going to let him think he has won. He won’t win. One day, I’ll fight him and win. I just have to be strong until that day comes. Until then, I’ll take the beatings from him. There is nothing else I can do, so why bother.

School has been shit all morning. I got another stupid flower in my locker. I want to ask Declan if it’s him, because if it is, I don’t understand why he’s sending them to me. To mess with my head? But how? It’s such a delicate flower.It doesn’t seem like something he would send.

I’ve been watching people for a long time, and can read them well. However, Declan is so hard to read. He hides himself from the world, so you can’t tell what he’s thinking, or what he’s going to do next.

On Saturday, I never thought he would kick me out of his house. In the space of five minutes, everything changed in him. It was after he was on a call. His voice was a lot more sharp, hard, and angry.

But I didn’t fight him. I left. I was happy he said I could leave. Standing there naked in his room was horrible. I felt like I was in a fucking fish in a fishbowl. I’ve never felt so exposed, or so low in my life. Robert does things, but he never looks at my body like Declan did, and I didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was strange. With Declan, the knife should have scared me, but it didn’t. Why would something I use on myself every day scare me? Declan wasn’t going to kill me, that much I knew. Did I think he was going to fuck me with it? Fuck no. But that one object made me feel so much more than I thought it would have. It made me feel like, in some fucked up way, Declan understand the knife isn’t a fear for me.

It’s something I crave, to pierce my skin, and when he cuts me, I want to moan in pleasure because it gives me more pleasure than anything else ever has. Him fucking me with it is the best thing to happen to me, and I cried because he didn’t let me come, he didn’t let me finish. But it also makes me feel like a fucking freak because of how much I liked it.

In my head, I was hoping he would cut me more, wanting him to dig the tip of the knife into me.

What is wrong with me?

I see him laughing at the lunch table with his friends, and the only thing I can think about is whether he has a knife on him now. Would he use it on me again?

Fucking freak, that’s what I am, a fucking freak.

I hear a whistle and I look around to see who it is, but stupidly, I look at Declan first, because he seems to whistle at me when he wants my attention. Asshole. He nods, telling me to come over. I shake my head, but I do it anyway because I’m not in the mood for him to make me feel like shit today. Grabbing my bag, I walk over to him and his stupid friends.

I took another peek at the list last night, and if I go to his hockey practice, it knocks one hundred dollars off my debt. Something I might do. All I have to do is sit there and watch him skate up and down the rink. But then again it doesn’t say I have to watch, I can draw instead.

Standing next to him, he leans back in his chair and looks up at me with a smile. I wish I could slap it off his face.

“Did you finish what I asked you to draw?” he asks, and the color drains from my face. Shit. I thought he was fucking with me. I can’t show him what I’ve drawn. He won’t like it.

He holds out his hand for my sketchpad. I take it out of my bag, open it to the page I was drawing on, and place it in his hand.

He looks at the picture and bursts out laughing, a full on laugh which makes everyone in the cafeteria turn and look at us.

Great. Now every set of fucking eyes are on me now. Just what I don’t need.

I drew a dick and balls, his name inside the shaft. Because that’s what I think he is, a fucking dick.

Closing the pad, he shoves it into his bag. I kneel to take it out, but he grabs my wrist.

“I don’t think so.”

Oh fuck. His words send a chill through me. He has something planned. I remember his warning. If I don’t like it, I’ll find something to do, to you.

“Time for your punishment, I think,” he whispers in my ear.

I stand up, and he licks his lips, tilting his head slightly. I can see him thinking, deciding what to make me do.

“Dance. Get on the table and dance.”

He scrolls through his phone like he’s already bored while I stare at him, wondering if he’s serious.

He slams his hand on the table to get my attention, it makes me flinch.

I hear a few of his friends snickering about how stupid I’m going to look. I bite on my lower lip as Stephanie chimes in about how ugly I am, how no one wants to watch me dance.

Fucking assholes. Judging me just because I wear what I want to wear, and don’t talk to anyone.

Right. These fuckers want to play? Then let’s play.

Today was not the best day to be wearing this outfit—a short skirt, stockings, but fuck it.

Declan wants everyone to see me dance?

I’m going to give them a show.

Are you sure?

“Let’s see it.” He gives me a wink.

I look over at everyone at the table and lock eyes with Stephanie, who is shooting daggers at me. She leans in closer to Declan, kisses his cheek, and whispers something to him. I get on the table, shaking my head when Declan puts his phone on the table, and the music starts.

Oh, this is the only song you could think of? I’m a slave for you, Britney Spears.

The beat kicks in, and I move my hips, not taking my eyes off Declan. My hand lifts above my head as I sway my hips from side to side. I trail my hands down my shoulders, sliding them down over my chest and down my sides. I grip the edges of my skirt, lifting it slightly to show off the tops of my stockings. Declan’s gaze drops to my thighs, and he smirks.

I spin around on the table, keeping the show going, giving him and the whole fucking school something to watch. Then I stop and drop to my knees in front of him, as if I’m about to crawl to him, but I freeze when I feel someone’s hand on my upper thigh.

I glance over my shoulder. One of the hockey players. Then I feel another hand.

As I whip my head back at Declan, his face is right in front of mine.

“Stop!” The demand makes me freeze on the spot. “Get down and leave.”

I sit back on my heels, my heart pounding. A few guys mutter how sexy my tattoos are, and they want a better look at them.

“You want to see them? Take a look.” I hear Declan say it, and I have no fucking idea what the fuck he means by that.

One of the players stands up and leans in closer, places his hand on my thigh. My body tenses.

“Let him look,” Declan demands.

The guy lifts my skirt slightly so he can see the skeleton hand holding a heart. The other hand on the tattoo holds nothing, because I have no idea what I want it to hold. Something I will get done later.

His fingers graze over the ink, moving higher.

This time I move.

I slam my forehead into his nose, sending a sharp, satisfying crack through the air.

I’m not letting some fucking asshole touch me just because Declan said he could.

“You fucking bitch!” the guy shouts, lunging at me.

Declan stops him.

“We don’t hit girls. There’s a line, and that’s fucking crossing it.” Declan growls, shoving him away from me.

I get off the table, and storm out of the cafeteria, not waiting for Declan to say another word. I wish he hadn’t stopped him. I would have loved to punch him in the face, get some of this rage out of my system.

Fucking assholes, all of them.

I still have English with Declan which is next period.

Thank god my day is almost finished. Then I can go anywhere, anywhere a man isn’t making me feel like I’m worthless.

* * *

Slamming my locker shut, I turn around and walk straight into Declan. He shoves me back against the lockers.

“Are you proud of the show you put on in there?”

I don’t answer. He asked for it, acting like I got on the table by choice.

“Next time you put on a show for anyone but me, I’ll break you so fucking hard you won’t want to leave your fucking bedroom, never mind your house.”

Can he hear my heart pounding in my chest, because fucking hell I can?

He slams his left hand into the lockers behind me, I jump, which only makes him laugh. He slams his books into my chest and walks off toward our English class. Looks like I’m carrying his books for him then. I’m sure that’s on the list.

As I walk toward class, I see people whispering to each other and pointing at me. Not surprising after that show. But when they glance down at their phones, my stomach clenches.

Did someone film it? Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? It’s fun for them.

But if it’s online, Robert will see it.

And that won’t be good for me.

Fuck.

What did I do?

In class, Declan drags my desk closer to his.

My watch vibrates on my wrist, it’s a message from Ash.

This is going around .

I can’t see the picture through the preview, so I pull my phone out of my bag and open it.

My entire body locks up. I think I’m having a heart attack.

My heart is hammering. My chest is tight.

I can’t breathe.

Fuck.

It’s a picture of me.

Sucking Declan’s dick.

Tears stain my cheeks. You can’t see him, just me.

Who the fuck took this photo? And why post it?

Do not cry. Do not cry.

You will not show anyone they’ve won.

Never again.

No matter how many times I tell myself that, the tears still escape. This was supposed to be the year I faded into the background. No one was supposed to notice me.

But no.

I had to be in the wrong place at the wrong fucking time.

My hands shake. My pulse races. I try to keep myself calm, but it’s not working.

Oh my God, what is happening? Why is this happening to me?

I feel Declan’s fingers on my cheek, wiping my tears away.

His breath is hot against my ear.

“Don’t you look like a pretty doll in this picture? My dick looks good in your mouth.”

I slap his hand away from me and turn to him.

Did you do this?

My question makes him laugh. “How could I take a picture of you sucking my dick? Wasn’t me. Had nothing to do with it. Didn’t even tell anyone to take a picture.”

It’s fucked up, but I don’t think he’s lying.

He leans back in the chair while I sit there, staring at my phone.

How long before Robert sees this?

He doesn’t know anyone from the school, so I might get lucky.

Please God, don’t let him see this picture.

But if it wasn’t Declan, then who the fuck took the picture?

Then it hits me.

There is only one person who hates me more than Declan.

Stephanie.

That bitch.

I close my eyes to shut off the voices around me.

The names they’re calling me are nothing new to me.

Slut. Whore.

Robert calls me worse every night.

They think their names will hurt me.

I tell myself they won’t.

I tell myself they can’t.

But then I see her.

Stephanie.

And I snap.

I grab Stephanie’s hair and slam her face into the desk. Once. Twice.

Her screams send a sick satisfaction through me.

Fucking bitch.

I throw her onto the floor and kick her in the stomach. Again. Again.

Then, I straddle her and I punch her face.

Once.

Twice.

Three Times.

“I’m coming to your house after school. Time to start this assignment.”

My eyes snap open.

Again he wipes my tears away. Again, I slap his hand away.

What? No. I can come to yours.

Robert will be home. And I have no idea what will happen if Declan’s there.

The only good thing is Robert won’t touch me while Declan is around. But Declan will touch me. And that will piss Robert off.

Fuck.

There is no way I can win this today.

Declan grins. “Oh, now I will definitely be coming. I’ve got practice, but I’ll come over after that.”

He leans in, and his lips graze my earlobe. “I might even get to play again.”

My stomach twists. My body tenses.

Declan in my house. I know Robert will be there.

The sour taste of fear rises in my throat,

Tonight is going to be a nightmare.

Maybe I’ll fight.

Maybe I’ll win.

Maybe I’ll knee Robert hard enough he won’t be able to rape me tonight.

He might hit me, but I’d take that over the alternative.

I’d take that over him .

* * *

Sza plays in my ears as I lay on the roof, smoking the last part of the joint I’ve been saving for a few days. I can never smoke the whole thing in one day. I know I shouldn’t smoke at all, but I still need it whenever Robert gets too close to me.

I need to forget what’s happening.

Forget how his disgusting hands feel on my skin.

Forget how sick I feel afterward.

Forget how I want all the pain to go away.

I didn’t see my dad’s car in the driveway. I knew Robert was planning to piss me off.

There’s always a part of me that always thinks I should tell someone – tell the police about him, but it wouldn’t change anything.

No one ever listens.

The bitch knows what her son does to me, and she will never stop him. Because she wants him to be happy. And I’m the reason he’s happy. The way he touches me, rapes me. She thinks that’s normal.

What kind of fucked up person thinks rape is fine?

I look down at my drawing. It’s one of my favorites. There are a few things I still need to do to it, but I can fix it a little later. Right now, just drawing this picture made me feel a little better.

Declan took my other sketchpad off me, and never gave it back. I don’t want him looking through it.

There are images in there that don’t exactly put me in the best light. But then again, I don’t care what he thinks about me.

I stare up at the bright blue sky, and the same thoughts circle through my head.

Would anyone miss me if I weren’t here tomorrow?

Can I survive another year of Robert raping me?

Is there anyone who would listen? Would it be easy to take my life?

I wipe the tear away from the corner of my eye. And the fact I can cry at the thought of ending my life means I don’t want to die.

Not yet. I don’t want my life to end yet. But I don’t know how much more fight I have left in me.

Robert. Now Declan.

How do I fight them both?

My eyes snap wide open when I feel hands on my thighs.

Declan.

He’s leaning over me, stealing one of my earbuds and slipping it into his ear.

That same hand reaches out to mine and takes the joint from me.

“You keep smoking this shit. One day you’ll fall, you might die.”

Oh, how I’ve thought about that moment before. I keep my face blank. He doesn’t need to know what’s going through my mind.

“If you plan on dying, please wait until I’ve had my fun with you.”

And there is it.

The reminder that I’m nothing to him.

Just something to play with when he gets bored.

I feel his hand moving up my skirt.

I didn’t change once I got home, so he has easy access if he wants it.

Slamming my hands onto his chest, trying to push him off me.

Robert cannot see him touching me.

But Declan is too strong.

“Now, now little Trixie, don’t fight.”

I freeze as something cold presses against my thigh.

My eyes snap to his, and I see a wicked glint in them. “Show me your bedroom. I wonder if you have a bat in there.”

Is he serious? Or just fucking with me? His voice is too flat to tell.

Something flickers in his eyes for a split second, almost as if he’s trying to hide a part of himself.

“I still get to have fun with you for not making my tattoo-”

I push at him again, trying to fight.

Because I did fucking dance for him.

But he stops me. “That was for laughs,” he says, finally getting off me. He stands up, looking down at my body.

“Did you get bored?” His eyes are on the tattoo on my leg which I colored in.

I do that a lot.

It’s fun to color them in.

I do this a lot, shockingly it relaxes me, and takes my mind off things going on in my head.

It’s either coloring my tattoos or sewing.

That’s probably the one thing I love more than drawing. Even more than designing my outfits.

How do I keep him out of my room?

If Robert hears him, I don’t know what will happen?

Before I can do anything, Declan is climbing through my bedroom window.

Shit.

I hurry after him, checking to make sure no one saw him.

Once inside, I rush to my Bluetooth speaker, and connect my phone. If I can drown out our voices, maybe, just maybe, I can control this situation.

I could ask Declan to be quiet.

But who am I kidding?

He’ll be loud just to piss me off.

When I turn, he’s standing in front of my two mannequins, the ones draped in my unfinished designs.

His fingers graze the fabric of one, then moves to the other, which is nothing more than pinned samples.

“What are you making?” he asks, finally turning to face me.

One is an outfit I designed, and the other I want to make a dress for winter formal, if I go.

Now, I don’t think I will go, but an idea came to me, and where else I can wear it? So, I thought fuck it I’ll sew it and see what happens.

“Show me the designs.” He stares at me, looks around the room. “No bats then?” I shake my head. Why the fuck does he think I have bats in my bedroom? “Do you have a secret drawer with blood in there?”

Fucking idiot. He thinks that because I dress like this, I have to be a vampire lover. I roll my eyes, and walk over to the mannequins. I’ll show him both the designs.

“I want this one changed.” He hands me the outfit I designed to wear to school, or whenever I go out. “We can talk about it later, and the dress. I want the split to be higher.” He points his finger to where he wants it to be. Yeah, I’m not doing that. It would be right at the top of my hip. Everything will be on show. That is not happening.

Taking the papers from him, I put them back. Before I can turn around, he pushes his body against mine, and I tense up when I feel the tip of his knife on my neck.

“You know, you smell so good.” I hear him breathe hard through his nose. Then he licks the side of my neck. It makes me close my eyes as he licks my neck again. “I want a taste.” His hand moves to the front of my panties, his hand cupping my pussy.

I try to place my hand on his chest, but Declan stops me. “No point saying please, I still want a taste.” He bites the side of my neck hard enough for me to push him away, but he pushes me hard into the wall. My face is stuck between the wall and his chest. As his hand rubs my pussy, he kicks my legs apart.

“I’m going to take a step back. You’re going to be a good little girl, and get on the bed, and spread your legs wide for me. Do you understand?” His voice is caressing my ear. I can barely hear him over the music in the room.

I don’t reply.

He wouldn’t hurt me in my own house, would he? “Answer me, I mean, I could think of other places I’ll suck you with my mouth. The roof would be a good place to start.”

I quickly nod my head to answer him, because he would make me go on the roof. And that can’t happen.

“Good girl, now get on the bed.” Declan steps back from me, and I take a moment to finally move over to my bed. “Remove the panties before you lie down.”

I stand at the end of the bed and take in a deep breath. Removing my panties, I bend down to get them from my feet, and as I do Declan slaps my ass hard enough for it to fucking sting.

“Lie down little Trixie.” I do as I’m told, and close my eyes.

Everyone has a happy place, a place they can go to when they are hurting, or when they want to run away from a situation.

My happy place is with my mom. I’m sitting on a stool with my mom, as she sews a new dress for herself. She tells me all the different ways to use the sewing machine, and you can make anything you want if you try hard enough. It was then I fell in love with sewing, and knew I was going to be a fashion designer. That’s my happy place. At least it was when life was good.

“I think I’ve eaten pussy twice in my life. But yours, there’s something about it. I got a small taste, and I’ve not stopped thinking about it.”

I don’t look at him, kneeling between my legs. I keep my eyes closed, but tense up when the tip of the knife hits the side of my eye as he wipes the tear away.

He leans closer and buries his lips into the hollow of my throat, then nibbles on my earlobe. I feel the tip of the knife moving down my body.

Declan licks down the side of my neck, across my jaw. He stands up and stops the knife on my thigh.

“Open your eyes. Let me see your tears.” The knife moves closer and closer to my pussy.

He taps it against my stud on my clit, then moves it toward my entrance. “Open them and look at me.” This time there is more of a hardness to his tone, and I do as I’m told.

The tip of the knife moves to my entrance, and the tip goes in. My hands grip my bed sheets, my body tenses up. His eyes are locked onto mine. There is a smile spreading over his lips as he removes the tip.

“Open your mouth,” he demands.

I open it and wait to see what he does. I thought he was going to make me suck his finger or something, but no. He brings the tip of the knife to my mouth. “Lick it. Taste yourself, see what I’m itching for.” I slip out my tongue and Declan moves the knife blade flat on my tongue.

He kneels between my legs, his hands on my thighs, opening them wider, and I pray he doesn’t take a good look at my legs, because he will see the cuts I’ve given myself. The scars are mostly under my tattoos. I do it there to make sure no one will see them.

Robert has never touched me with his mouth down there, so I never have to worry about him seeing anything.

I jolt when I feel Declan’s tongue on my clit, and a faint moan escapes my lips. “I wish you could talk, so you could scream my name.” Declan gets back to licking my clit. This is new, this is different. Oh God, this has never happened before.

He bites my clit, and I jolt, wanting to scream out, but I bite on my bottom lip as he continues to work his mouth on my pussy. The tip of his finger teases my entrance while he sucks on my clit. He doesn’t push his finger inside, but pulls it away from me.

Declan places his hand on my stomach and pushes down hard, a lot harder than I think he needs to. He looks up at me with a glimpse of an evil smile spreading over his lips. What is he doing?

The handle of the knife enters me, a lot deeper than last time. He tilts it up, making me arch my back off the bed, and I bite off my lower lip as the pleasure of it hits me hard. Declan lowers himself and starts licking my clit again. Fucking hell.

“Clench, hold the knife in your pussy.” Declan stands up, still holding the knife in place. “You drop it, then you’ll be on your knees sucking my dick.” He moves the knife a few more times in and out, up and down. “Hold it tight.”

I clench the muscles, not wanting to drop it. Tonight is already going to be horrible for me. I don’t need Declan fucking it up even more.

Declan stands straight, looking down at my pussy, smiling as he licks his lips.

“You taste so good. Wouldn’t mind it for dessert every night.” He slaps my clit, making a small moan escape. “Hold it.” He rubs my clit. I close my eyes tight, trying to focus on what’s happening to my body and trying so hard to hold the knife in place.

But it’s so difficult.

I need to come. Never have I felt like this. I’ve never felt so much pleasure. I don’t know if it’s because no one has touched me like that before. It’s new to me and I’m not sure I can keep still for much longer.

“You want to come?” Declan asks. I quickly nod, letting him know I do. All I want is to let this feeling inside of me come out. “If you open your eyes and then look at me. Then I’ll let you come.”

He doesn’t stop rubbing my clit, hard.

I open my eyes quickly, looking at him and waiting for him to let me come.

He nods.

I come so hard, and so fast, my body trembles as I hit the high of this moment. I hear the thud of the knife hitting the floor, but right now, I don’t even care.

Before I come back down to earth, I feel Declan’s lips on my pussy. He’s sucking on my clit, his tongue is at my entrance. He’s lapping it all up.

When I don’t feel his lips on me anymore, I close my eyes. Hopefully, he will leave me alone now.

Just when I thought he would step back from the bed, my body tenses up when I feel the tip of the blade on my skin close to my pussy. It’s the same place he cut me last time, and I feel the tip of the blade cutting my skin. He marks me once again.

I take a deep breath when Declan stands up and smiles, then leans in closer and wipes the tear away from the corner of my eye.

“I’m going to leave now through the window. You can open the front door, and we can study.” I shake my head a little. He picks the knife up and puts the handle into his mouth. “Mmm, so good. Now, why are you shaking your head?”

I’m not allowed to open the front door.

My reply makes him laugh. He licks the knife once more. “I don’t care. Just answer the door.”

Before I can say anything, he picks up my panties, puts them in his pocket and leaves out of the window.

Open the door for Declan, and have Robert have fun with me. Or let Robert answer the door and wait and see what Declan will do.

Fuck my life!