*warning* the cruellest thing...[story]

Sitting on the soft, padded sofa, alone, she gazed out the window. The sky was a perfect blue and the sun was shining still even though it was mid-afternoon. The sound of the doorbell awoke her from her daydreaming and she hurried to answer it. There, standing tall like a grotesque statue stood a man who looked old enough to be her dad. Behind him she saw the sky turn from it’s striking blue, to a dull, stormy grey, the sun vanishing as if warning her that danger was ahead. He smiled a patronising smile, asked her how she was and if her daddy was home, she replied she was fine with an innocent smile and added that her daddy was still at work and wouldn’t be home for another few hours, nor would her mummy. He grinned at this information and watched as the smile slid off her face like water from a tap. Forcing his way in, she stood paralysed against the wall staring in utter disbelief. He closed the door behind him and advanced toward her, she recoiled from him and tried to run. He grabbed her hair and yanked on it. She fell to the floor and writhed in agony, some of her long flowing hair still clasped in his powerful fist. He looked down at her in disgust and lifted her bodily from the floor. She tried to scream but nothing came out, instead tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook her head, eyes closed, praying for him to go away. Her prayers remained unanswered though as he pressed ever closer to her fragile form now propped up against the stairs. He told her to go upstairs, but she didn’t move, just shook her head and mouthed ‘no’. Again he told her to go upstairs, sounding more commanding this time, but again her answer remained the same. At this point he grabbed her wrist and dragged her up the stairs, him leading and her trailing behind, losing her footing, wrist twisting madly in his palm trying to free herself from his grip. He threw her into her room and closed the door, trapping her. He told her that if she ran he would only make things more difficult for her and that he wasn’t trying to hurt her, just helping her grow up. He sank onto her bed and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her tightly, arms wrapped round her, gripping her tightly. He stroked her hair; heavy hands weighing down on her head making her feel dizzy. He scrunched her hair in his hands and smelt it, told her it smelled prettier than flowers and that she was a big girl to have such beautiful hair. He rocked her gently before she started to struggle against him, forcing herself to writhe and wriggle to try and free herself. This was the first time he hit her. A hard slap across the face to which she could only look shocked. He didn’t stop there though and soon she could feel her body bruising as he kicked and punched her to keep her quiet. She could taste blood; she wanted it to be over, she wanted her mum to come home, anything but this. Glancing at the childish bunnykins clock hanging on her wall, he stood up and sat her down. Bringing his face right up to hers so she could feel his putrid breath on her face, he made her swear that she wouldn’t tell anyone or he would get her family. Drawing a hand across his neck as if decapitating somebody he could not have made it plainer. He kissed her gently and headed towards the door. She lay down and curled up, listening carefully for the door to slam before dissolving into tears at what had just happened. That night she locked herself in the bathroom before bath time and looked at her body. It was black and blue from where he had kicked and punched her for trying to get away. She touched her arm and instantly knew she shouldn’t have. Her whole body was throbbing and with every heart beat a new wave of pain came over her to the point it made her wretch. Running a warm bath, she soaked herself in the bubbles, the warm water soothing the aches and pains in her muscles and relaxing her just enough for her to drift off into happier thoughts. When she clambered out of the bath she found herself holding onto the edge of the sink to steady her, as the dizziness was overwhelming. Towelling herself dry, she changed into her pyjamas and went and sat before the mirror to brush her long brown hair that she had once been so proud of, now it was just something from a nightmare and she wanted it cut off. It was a week before he returned, the weather again reflecting the danger of what was about to unfold. She tried not to let him in, but he overpowered her, telling more lies that he would get her family and that she didn’t want that. Again he dragged her upstairs, this time taking a fistful of her hair as she kept her arms out of the way. Laying her down on her bed, he stroked her, every inch of her still-bruised body. She told him to stop, that she didn’t like it, but again he slapped her and told her to shut up and carried on. Gently unbuttoning her skirt, he slid it from her trembling body. Lifting her rigid form onto his lap he took off her school jumper and blouse. She was numb, was not in control of her own emotions, tried to scream but every time received a slap until her bruises were once again throbbing painfully. He laid her down again, and she closed her eyes, she couldn’t stand the sight of him any longer. He kissed her. Every bit of her pale skin was covered in kisses from his rough lips. She squirmed, but knew she could not stop him, just prayed god would deliver her from this torture, but where was god? Though her eyes were clamped tightly shut and she was trying her best to ignore the sounds he made, she could not mistake the sound of a zipper. Carefully opening one eye she saw him take his trousers off, then his boxers, so he was now naked below the waist. She gasped, not wanting to take in the sight and felt herself heave, nausea washing over her. She closed her eyes tighter and prayed harder to god that she would not experience what was to happen next. She felt his hands on her waist, stroking her legs and her lower abdomen. She felt him slide her pants off her and kiss the tops of her legs. She could feel him shaking as he pressed ever nearer, great tears forming in her eyes, flowing down her cheeks, sobs caught in her throat, cries that would not come out, that remained unanswered. He straddled her, and she flinched. What happened next was pain beyond any she had ever experienced, like somebody had stabbed her over and over again and the knife was slowly ebbing deeper inside of her. She whimpered but he did not hear. His breathing was becoming faster, he was moaning, and she didn’t understand why, a numbness had taken over her and she couldn’t respond, couldn’t open her eyes or anything. If this was hell she wanted to know why she was here.