My Worst Nightmare

My Worst Nightmare by Princess Sarah Akpu on ZenPens

Walking through the doors into the complete blackness of night; the cold winter air blows against my face and chills me to the bone. There is no light, no street lamps, no moon, just the soft red glow of my cars lights. I hear nothing except my soft footsteps in the snow. I feel completely alone. But deep in my soul I know someone else is there, watching me.

My heart rate soon matches my quickening pace, the distance between where I am and my car seems to only increase with every step I take. Walking faster and faster; feelings of anxiety increasing with every step I take. I stop only to open my door, but that one moment is all it takes.

The rough hands that had haunted my nightmares wrap around my neck and start to slowly close in on my windpipe. Tears began to trickle down my cheeks as he violently spins and slams me against my car. Terror and pain rack my body as I gasp for air, longing to scream, longing to fight back but I just stand there paralyzed with my eyes closed waiting, just waiting for him to take what he wants. Moments pass by like hours, with only the sound of my gasps to fill the air.

Slowly his grip loosens and brings his face within inches of mine and lowly whispers, “Open your eyes, I want you to look into my eyes.”

With every ounce of strength I close my eyes even tighter; I brace myself for his wrath. He removes his hand from my neck and a sharp pain crosses my cheek. The pain lingers but only for a second and the slow trickle of tears turns into a flowing river.

“Open your eyes!” he screams, spraying my face with spit and the smell of whisky and smoke. “You are more defiant than I remember. But that will change. I broke you once and I will do it again.” His hand then returns to my neck with urgency and begins to tighten. “Open your eyes or I will choke the life right out of your miserable body!”

I am unable to breath, gasping desperately for air that will never reach my lungs. What choice do I have, open my eyes and look at the face of the devil or keep them closed and die… a slow and painful death?

The feeling of the blood slowly leaving my face makes me feel bitterly cold, as the warmth of his hands slowly chokes the life out of me. Soon the pain becomes too much to bear; hesitantly I open my eyes and his hand loosens its grip. I am filled with relief as oxygen rushes to my lungs, but this relief will not last long. He looks deep into my eyes and I am filled with the urge to scream, to scream for someone to save me from this helish nightmare but I know no one would come.

So I remain silent. I immediately look down; terrified that he will see how scared I am, and afraid to give him power over me. The air is soon filled with the sound of his laughter, “I expected more of a fight but you’re just as weak as before. Now look at my face… I want to see those pretty blue eyes.”

I keep my eyes fixated on the ground unable to move. Paralyzed with the thought of what is to come. The cold feeling of metal moves against my cheek and towards my chin. Immediately I am filled with panic and my heart feels as though it may explode. He has a knife. He slowly tilts my head up with the tip of the knife.

“I said I want to see those pretty blue eyes.” I wanted to run, to fight back but I knew that I stood no chance so I lifted my face the rest of the way and looked into his eyes fighting back tears. “That’s a good girl,” he says with a wide grin on his face as he slowly takes a step away from me. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you; well not yet at least, we are going to have a little fun first.” He just stands there; looking me up and down.

And then it begins. A back hand against my face, the force from the strike makes me stumble backwards.

“Stand still you little bitch!” he screams as he steps forward punches me in my stomach. The pain is only momentary, but then the strikes increase, throwing punches and forceful slaps at me like I was a punching bag. With each blow that he gives, my body trembles with pain, and with one last punch my legs fail.

And I fall to my knees. The snow crunches under the impact of my falling. The ground around me is no longer white but painted scarlet with droplets of my blood. There is no break, no time for me to compose myself. He lifts me up by a clump of my hair and the silence is broken by my scream; and I regret it as soon as it leaves my lips.

With one swift and powerful motion he covers my mouth and is pushing me against the side of my car with all his weight. “Shut up you little whore!” he screams as he gets even closer to my face, slowly he moves his hands towards his pocked and I hear the soft click of his knife. I close my eyes, preparing for the worst… soon I felt the cold tip of the metal against my stomach, and as it inches upward, tears flooded down my face. The sound of tearing fabric and my sobs fill the air and soon my shirt is soon completely open.

The bitter cold of the wind touches me and leaves small bumps all over my skin. The feel of metal traces circles up my stomach towards my neck. “You have grown into quite the woman,” he says taking his time to slowly drag the blade over the swell of my breasts.

I find myself just wishing he would just get it over with, whether it be killing me or raping me, I just want him to be done with it. I become lost in thoughts as I did when I was a child … it was the only escape I had to get away from him. My thoughts are being interrupted by a sharp pain crossing my stomach; it is not a punch or a kick but a pain I have never experienced before and when I open my eyes I see his knife, coated with blood… with my blood. I immediately look at my stomach and the shallow cut that now lay horizontally on it, blood slowly leaking from it.

I am frozen from shock. After a few moments my hands reach to stop the bleeding but he restrains me. “Keep your hands by your sides or the next thing I cut will be your throat.” He slowly moves the knife back to my stomach, slowly cutting another horizontal line, this one deeper and more painful than the cut before.

There are no words to describe the intense pain that charges through every cell of my body but the only thing I can do is wince and let out soft sobs. I can feel the warm blood run down my stomach and legs and soon there is no white snow at all… just a deep red puddle of my blood. He drags the blade across my stomach nine times, each time the cuts get deeper and deeper and more painful.

After what feels like hours later, he leans towards my ear and whispers “One cut for every year that I wasted behind bars because of you, and every year I thought about my sweet revenge.” My body trembles from the pain, but I know the worst is yet to come. His hands reach towards my pants, my blood soaked pants dropped to the blood drenched ground with a splash.

I clench my eyes close, knowing what is about to happen but hoping that this is just a nightmare, and praying that soon I will wake up. I hear the sound of him fumbling with his belt.

Now is my chance, I take a step to the left. But before my foot touches the ground again I am immediately slammed back against the car, and he presses all his body weight against me. The pressure against my stomach makes me cry out, but his hand muffles my scream. What happens next is even worse, the pressure and the pain is too much for my body to take. After only a few moments I black out and fall to the ground. He is soon on top of me, continuing … faster and faster… I go in and out of consciousness, but I am disturbingly aware of what is going on. This monster has taken what he wants, he has taken my purity.

I awake lying on the blood soaked ground, covered in blood and sweat. What just happened finally hits me like a semi-truck and the only thing I can do is roll over on my side and vomit. As I lay there heaving and puking up everything that I had eaten that day, I see him standing there covered in my blood, the only thing I can hear is the sound of him fastening his belt and his laughter. My throat and eyes are burning, my head is light and my stomach aches; there is nothing I would like more than to have the sweet embrace of death; and with the amount of blood that I have lost, I may soon get what I want.

But suddenly his laughter stops, he starts to panic. “Whose there!” I hear a familiar voice scream out. He leans down and says, “I will be back for you… if you survive this.” As he places deep cuts on each of my legs and each of my arms.

The pain becomes too much and finally I break my silence. “HELP ME! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELP ME!” I screamed out with painful sobs. My eyes closed with the image of him running away and a familiar figure running towards me. The sound of footsteps end and I know he is standing above me, looking at my mangled body. The air is filled with the smell of vomit, blood and sweat. I feel the cold touch of his leather jacket as he attempts to shield my naked body from the falling snow and then he drops to his knees.

“Clarissa… it’s going to be okay, the ambulance is on its way.” He slowly lifts my head into his lap and caresses my cheek, “It’s going to be okay, you’re safe. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

And with that last sentence I lose all control; my body shook with emotion as I let out deep sobs and screams of pain. The snow falls around us as I cry and he just sits their holding my hand and touching my bruised and beaten face. And in the distance I hear the faint sounds of an ambulance.

The paramedic’s firm hands gently lift me off the ground, I feel his grip loosen on my hand, and with the last of my strength I squeeze his hand, hoping and praying he won’t let go. That he wouldn’t leave me alone. He seems to know what I mean; he gently squeezes my hand and follows me into the ambulance.

In the low light of the ambulance the paramedics hustle around me trying to bandage my wounds; but my eyes are fixed on him, and his eyes are fixed on me. His clothes are damp with blood vomit and melted snow… but he doesn’t seem to care. The look on his face is complete sadness and horror. I turn to look at my reflection in the window. My mangled body was unrecognizable, covered in cuts and bruises, swelling past recognition, and suddenly my body goes numb, my eyes become heavier and heavier and soon close all together. All I can see are the eyes that haunt my every nightmare.

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