Before I could dwell on it more, the door opened and Erik stumbled inside, laughing. “Rosa.” He smiled; the bright light in the hallway almost blinded me as it shone right in my face. “Time to have some fun. Father has finally allowed me to have my way with you.”
His walk was wobbly as he stumbled again, and then he straightened up. He ripped open his shirt—this time a dark one—and pushed down his pants, and got out of them, toeing off his black leather shoes in the process. “Have to admit I wasn't into fucking you until you fought me a few hours ago.” He licked his lips, taking a huge sip from his whiskey bottle. “Can’t wait to finally break you.” He plunged onto the bed, spilling the bottle in the process. At once, the smell of expensive whiskey floated in the air, but the action only made him laugh louder. “Now I can lick it off you, along with your blood.”
Blood?
Bile rose in my throat once again, and for a second, I didn't even breathe. Just what did this sick man plan to do with me?
“Here you are,” he proclaimed, trailing his fingers over my lips as I wrapped my hand tightly around the knife, not caring if the sharp edges broke my skin. When Erik was about to pull the blanket away, I attacked him with the knife, aiming for his heart, but he managed to shift to the side, so I missed him.
“Fuck!” he cursed, and slapped my cheek with all his power. Just like in cartoons, tiny stars played in front of my eyes from the blow. Then he threw me on the floor and stood over me. “Thought you could kill me?” Kicking me hard in the stomach, he picked up the knife from the bed. The silver glistened from the moonlight slipping through the window. “You’ll learn to obey.”
My hands rested on my stomach as I fought nausea and dizziness. I tried to get up, but Erik kneeled swiftly and pinned down my hands so I wasn't able to do anything as he sat on my legs. “I wanted to be gentle with you this first night, just enjoy the blood of your virginity. But since you beg for it to be rough, so be it.”
The craziness in his eyes was impossible to miss. He was almost in some kind of trance, enjoying the fruits of his actions. He brought the knife closer to my face, and whispered, “Yes, blood and pain.” Chanting it, he ran the knife from my forehead to my left ear, and then the second cut went from my cheek to my right ear. My scream of terror was so loud I thought my throat would give up and I’d lose my voice.
Agonizing pain assaulted me. It seemed to come from everywhere as my skin burned under the silver knife, and my blood slowly dripped from the wounds. The soft touch of wind coming in through an open window only intensified the horrific feelings on the raw meat of my face. As though layers and layers of my skin were peeled down until nothing was left. The cuts were deep enough to cause permanent scars, but not deep enough for me to die from them. He leaned down and licked my forehead as I pushed and pushed at him, but he wouldn't move. His saliva was like salt on my wounds; the pain never seemed to defuse or go away. My body burned feverishly as some of the blood entered my mouth, the metallic taste of it paralyzing me.
Erik wouldn't stop hurting me. He opened the robe and squeezed my breasts brutally, while his knee pushed into my lady parts. He couldn't stop moaning in pleasure. Strength was slowly leaving me; pain, blood, and despair everywhere.
And then, for a fraction of a moment, my nana’s voice came to mind, when she’d take me out for an ice cream and give tips on how to handle boys who picked on me in school in an unkind way.
All men have one weakness.
Back then, I didn't understand what it was, but now I did. Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea, but no other options were available. So with everything left in me, I slammed my knee right into his erect penis. He cried out in agony, and I slid out from under him as my eyes searched for any kind of advantage in this fight while he palmed his dick, laughing. What could possibly be funny? The man was a lunatic.
The iron bedside lamp with a green, mushroom-shaped shade caught my attention.
Without thinking, I grabbed it, and with all my power, I smashed it right in the center of his head. He fell down, eyes closed, as blood spilled onto the white carpet from his skull, the kitchen knife still in his hands.
It might sound awful, but I didn't give a shit if he was dead or not. Wrapping the robe tighter around me, the adrenalin rush miraculously dissolving every ounce of pain, I took the knife coated in my blood and flew to the door.
The hallway was silent. Stretching widely with several doors on each side, the house reminded me more of the biker compounds I’d seen pictures of on the internet. The walls colored in dull whites and black were accompanied by green carpet, which had seen better days. The smell of alcohol, smoke, and something else, which I had a strong suspicion was sex, hung in the air. I fought not to cough.
My head spun, as the hallway tilted to the side in my vision. I grabbed the wall, leaning on it with my shoulder, while I willed my heart to slow down and calmly searched for a way out.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar male voice shouted, “Did you hear that? I heard some kind of noise.”
“Let’s check.”
The footsteps echoed loudly in the night. I searched for a place to hide and noticed a small opening in the last room in the right corner. As quietly as humanly possible, I tiptoed hastily, and once I reached it, I closed the door behind me and pressed my back against it. The smell in here was even worse, like urine and shit, and my bare feet could feel concrete under my toes.
However, I couldn't care less, because my eyes locked on something, a rectangular window, which surprisingly had no bars. Sheer curtains hung from a rod, making it difficult to see what was outside. I rushed forward to find out the ground was only a few inches away, as we were located on the first floor. The view opened onto a big green field and a small, narrow pathway, which led right into the scary-as-shit forest.
The voices from the hallway got louder and louder, so I snatched the curtains back, and with all my power, I pushed up on the window. It gave on the third try. The opening was small, but I managed to get through it and fell down on my knees painfully, silencing the cry of pain with my palm.
The grass was wet and itchy. Nothing but forest surrounded me, although the sound of the road could be heard in the distance.
“Fuck, the bitch escaped. Call Mark.” They started to scream through the night, so I wasted no time and darted away fast, running for my life. Despite my discomfort and weakness, I ran and ran. The bulbs switched on in the big stadium-like spotlights. The sounds of motorcycles and cars revving their engines and shouted instructions could be heard. “The bitch needs to stay alive. She can’t run for long.”
The words were enough for me to speed up. I hid in the forest, where several kinds of briars, thorns, and sharp things attached to my feet, creating blisters and wounds painful enough to make me want to stop, but I didn't have that luxury.
Dogs barking.
Guns firing.
Birds chirping and coyotes howling.
Go. Go. Go.
