I consider, for one single second, the possibility that I might regret this. That she was fucked over just as I was.
But then I think of Sid Rain.
I think of her in that cage. In the darkness. Beating her head against the iron bars hoping to split her skull. Sleeping face down in her own piss because moving was too much of a burden, it cost too much precious energy. I imagine all the ways she might have wanted to kill herself. Did she ever try to use a bandana, like I did, to hang herself in a space that she couldn’t even sit up in? Did she ever find a sharp point of her crate to dig into her wrists? To bleed out, starving, and alone?
Did she ever have her hands bound so tightly, she suffered permanent damage?
What else did they do to her?
Did they rape her?
The moment of pity I feel for the girl beneath me is gone. She was fed. Clothed. She wasn’t the favored sister, but she was fucking cared for.
A manic smile curves my lips, because I know I’m not going to stop.
I’m naked as it is, as I’ve been for most of the near decade I’ve been in this house of horrors.
They all deserve to fucking burn.
I let go of her throat, reach for my cock between us as I turn to stare at her father.
He’s crying too, those dead eyes full of grief. All these years, I never saw a single fucking emotion on his face. Not until this moment.
“Yeah,” I taunt him, smiling as I push against her entrance and she whimpers, “you feel something now, fucker?”
The rain is the only thing that makes me feel alive these days, and tonight, it’s like a fucking tsunami. My hair is plastered down my back, running shirt stuck to my drenched skin, rainwater and sweat mingling in the black, soggy fabric. Fat, warm drops fall from the night sky relentlessly, and off in the distance, I hear thunder rumbling, see lightning spark above the canopy of the forest.
I know I should turn back, but I’ve been running until I can’t breathe lately and right now, I’m still fucking breathing.
A few nights here recently I’ve wished I’d stop altogether.
I splash through a puddle, my sneakers instantly soaked, water spattering up my exposed calves. It’s been too hot in North Carolina to wear pants even though it’s only April. I imagine the summer will be torture.
Especially if I’m still pregnant when it comes.
I shake my head trying to rid the thought, my wet ponytail whipping the side of my face as I do. Wiping my wrist over my brow, I blink, trying to clear my vision. It’s hard enough to see as it is on any given night in the dark woods behind my new home, and with a downpour like this, it’s nearly impossible.
Still, I don’t stop.
My heart is racing, chest heaving, and my calves start to ache, but I keep going, rain pelting every inch of me.
The constant onslaught is more than an attack. It’s a reminder.
I’m alive.
I can still feel.
Speeding up, the forest flies by in a blur and I have to duck around a low hanging branch at the last minute, nearly twisting my ankle in the process as my sneaker slips in the mud. But I correct myself and keep sprinting until I think I might fucking faint and white spots pop in front of my eyes.
I tip my head back and open my mouth, letting the water fall onto my tongue as I slow to a fast walk, my lungs near bursting, my pulse so loud I can hear it in my head, even past the storm.
Lightning strikes again as I close my mouth and dip my chin, my hands on my knees when I come to a stop.
The sparks illuminate the trees overhead, forking violently through the blue-black sky. But it illuminates something else too, and suddenly, I really can’t breathe.
I straighten, my hands in fists by my sides as I take a step back, fear crawling down my spine. The rain is so loud around me that I can’t hear my own voice when I shout, “Hello?”, wanting the figure I saw in that flash of light to know that I saw them.
There’s no response. Even if there had been, the storm would’ve drowned it out. Still, I have this strange feeling whoever it is isn’t here to fucking talk.