My heart pounded in my chest as I got closer to the devil sitting in the chair.
I held my breath but couldn't avoid smelling the rotten stench of beer and the icky fish snack he liked to eat.
"You're wasting my time,"
I bit down the anguished groan in my throat and finally settled in his lap, where he expected me to sit.
I felt dirty. Contaminated.
I could feel the disgust crawling up my skin, and I felt itchy.
"Good girl," he slurred drunkenly and began his assault on my lower back.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?"
His fingers felt nasty against the curve of my back, and I blinked back sobs of frustration.
I could see his friends around the room sporting different expressions.
Some seemed uncomfortable, some indifferent, and some seemed to be really enjoying the situation.
He tightened his grip on my waist, fingers digging into my skin through the long sweater I wore.
"You look just like your mother. You know"
He muttered against my neck before attaching his lips and sucking sloppily.
My fingers dug far enough into my palm to draw blood, but I sat still.
Disobedience only brought more pain.
He continued his assault on my neck before sliding his hands under my sweater to meet my bare skin.
I fought the urge to gag, and it was even harder to fight the tears welling up in my eyes.
I closed my eyes in burning shame.
Shame at being treated like this, and worse, in front of so many strangers with not a single one to help.
Humiliated pricked my soul, and I wished for nothing more than for the pain to end.
As suddenly as he started, though, he let go of me and pushed me out of his lap.
He was done with me.... for now.
I picked up my bag and made my way upstairs with careful steps.
My face blank, but my body slightly trembling.
I wouldn't cry. Not in front of HIM.
I managed to get into my room, avoiding the dirty stares of some of the men in the house and closed the door behind me.
I locked it, too, for good measure.
I knew it was futile, though.HE would get in if he wanted to. He had a key
I slid down the door, my face buried in my knees, and only then did I allow the tears to flow.
Not too loud, of course.
I couldn't have him storming up the stairs.
So, I sat there.
Muffling the sound of my broken sobs in the crook of my elbow.