Year Two, Part Two
It’s been awhile since I wrote….it’s taken a few weeks to get over all the emotions that I had let out and they really disturb me. I’ll only be writing a little bit at a time every now and then.
The first thing I said to F was, “what the hell is all of this for?”.
He looked at me with that devilish grin and just ignored my question. I kept asking when his “family” was getting back and letting him know that I needed to get back to my family soon…and the more he ignored me, the more scared I got. He went up the basement stairs and grabbed some food from the kitchen, I walked around the basement and became familiar with it. So many happy people in the pictures on the walls, a big fireplace in the wall with a stuffed animal head hung above it, beautiful furniture and top of the line electronics everywhere. I didn’t belong here, I needed to get out. When F came back, he passed me some chips and headed for the tv. I was set back because he never wants to give me anything, let alone food because I was “such a disgusting whore”. I followed him to the tv and we watched The Shining (I still have flashbacks to these memories when I watch that movie). I stayed away from him and sat alone on the floor. No matter what I did, my fear of him grew stronger. I got up to use the bathroom and he jumped up demanding to know where I was going. He followed me to the bathroom and waited outside the door until I was done. Before I could finish washing my hands, he pulled me out of the bathroom and pushed me through the half open door to the bedroom. Locking the door behind him, he reached into the bag again and passed me a bottle of vodka instructing me to drink it. I had refused only to have him slap me seconds later, so I opened the bottle and took a small sip. It wasn’t good enough for him and he wanted more, so he held the bottle up to my mouth and held my head so I couldn’t back away. It burned so bad, I couldnt’ breathe, I couldn’t move, I could only choke back the alcohol and hope he’d let me stop soon. After almost a quarter of the bottle was gone, he let me go. I wanted to be sick, I wanted to be home with my family. I had started to cry but that pissed him off. F grabbed the torn sheets and tied them to the bed frame in each corner. I knew what was coming and I knew I couldn’t fight him off after drinking that vodka. After he was done with the sheets, he grabbed the last one and tied it around my head over my eyes. I started to panic and cry even more, begging him to stop and I’d do whatever he wanted me to. My pleading didn’t help matters, he called me a pathetic baby and I was so whiny that no one would ever want to be near me. He was going to forgive me because he “loved” me. I felt the bottle up to my mouth again and before he could hold my head in place, I turned and begged him not to make me drink so much again. I knew begging him not to drink it would only make him have me drink more, so I did the only thing I could think of. It worked.
The whole time I was drinking the vodka he kept telling me how useless I was and that he had a surprise for me. F said he knew I deserved something and this was going to be the last thing I would ever expect.
But I’d have to wait.
