It's that time of year again. So close to my anniversary.
I can hear the rain crashing against the windows and pavement. The smell of stale beer and cheap liquor. The sound of people chattering away enjoying their lives out for a friendly drink. I remember thinking about work and what I would be doing the next day with my clients and how I was planning on helping them out with important documents. I remember thinking I couldn't wait to get home and watch a movie with Seb with a warm drink and dinner.
Then it happened. One spiked drink later and everything became a blur. I remember pushing his large hand off of me but that only made his grip tighter. My face then against a brick wall, wrists cut from the zip ties, unable to shout, unable to do anything with my weak body.
The smell of his car had a fresh smell of oil, so he clearly kept it in tip top shape so he'd never get pulled over. Every bump in the road made me feel like i was going to vomit, I don't handle any opiods well at all. I remember the hot tears burning into my cheeks as I was begging for Seb to call me and use the find my phone tracker to get me. His car also had the faint smell of booze, metal and cigarette smoke.
When I got to his home I remember the living room actually smelling decent and it was well kept. Barely lived in. Then I saw Ren, looking relieved but sad. He seemed excited though that I was another beastkin. Then the basement became my hell for a bit.
The feeling of the cold floor against me as I was burning up from the drink and drugs. I remember the smell of his sweat and breath, the smell of beer makes me vomit to this day. His big hands on my body, whenever I picture where he's touched and violated I feel like ripping off my skin and cutting off my ears and tail. He was always so fond of those.
I spotted the camera in the corner and now i can't bare to look at one, even when I take part in streams I never look at the camera. All I can picture is how many people watched me dangling onto life and dangling on to whatever sanity I had. How many of those assholes paid Strade to violate me, cut me open, burn me, scar me, watch me bleed. I only survived because I made him like me. That was the only way.
How many times he would gaslight me into saying he was doing this because he loved me. Bullshit. That isn't love. My chest scar hurts more than usual today and I suspect it'll only hurt more as we draw closer to the anniversary.
His laugh still echoes in my nightmares, the way he enjoyed seeing me in pain and crying. The way I never had a choice, it was all stripped away from me for his sick pleasure. My feet still ache from when he partially declawed me. I'm just grateful he kept my hands in tact.
I hate him. I hate him. I HATE HIM. I wish I had been the one to kill him. Now I'll never get that revenge my heart desires. But I know deep down, taking part in these streams I'm just as bad as him. But don't bad people deserve this sort of pain..? They've inflicted it on others so many times. It feels like justice.
My mind is so torn right now. I want nothing more than for everything just to go away. I want peace and happiness again.
But will it ever come...?